That Prince Is A Girl The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

EMERIEL

Arkeita was right.

They had to find a way to escape this wretched, hellish place.

The thought pounded relentlessly through Emeriel’s head as he witnessed the lords molesting his sister. He fought back tears, his hands curling into tight fists.

Bile rose to his throat as he observed the way they manhandled Ackeira.

He had to keep his feet planted on the floor, resisting the urge to storim towards them in an attempt to save his sister. Such an act would likely result in both of them being executed.

Once again. Ackeira had risked everything, putting herself in harm’s way to protect him. To keep him from harm’s way.

When would Emeriel have the opportunity to repay her? To truly save her?

Why did his courageous sister always bear the burden of sacrifice while he cowered in fear like a craven?

Emeriel gripped his tunic, squeezing it tightly. “I am so sorry, Keira,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Grand Lord Ottai seemed indifferent, merely observing the entertainment with a detached amusement, his feast spread before him.

Meanwhile, Grand Lord Vladya remained engrossed in his writings, his attention solely focused on the scroll in front of him

Unlike the other lords who indulged in food, drink, and pleasures, Vladya abstained, his expression inscrutable.

A sudden movement at the corner of Emeriel’s eye caught his attention. A lord approached, undoubtedly intending to “inspect him.

Instinctively, Emeriel took a step back. But was that too suspicious? He halted

The lord drew nearer, locking eyes with Emeriel. Handsome and youthful, he bore the typical Urekai appearance. Circling him like a predator, the lord stopped in front of Emerie He reached around to cup Emeriel’s backside.

“Soft,” the lord muttered, furrowing his brows. “Too soft”

Then, the lord’s hand slipped beneath Emeriel’s tunic, encountering the bindings that concealed his true identity. The lord froze.

Emeriel held his breath. Their eyes locked. While confusion clourled the lord’s gaze, Emeriel’s was filled with panic. Gradually, understanding dawned in the lord’s gaze, realizing that the person before him was not truly a man.

“Please, I beg of you, my lord, do not expose me, Emericl blurted out, desperation tinging his words. “I implore you. Please help me

The lord tilted his head to the side, deep in thought. His hand inside Emeriel’s clothing moved further, finally discovering

banded breasts.

her

Surprise flickered across his features, and he fixed Emeriel with a piercing gaze.

“Please, my lord, I will the anything please, Emeriel pleaded, hihody tremilling with anxiety.

A moment hung suspended between them.

Eventually, the lord withdrew his hand and took a step back. Rond the Moors, atop Vacant Hill, you shall find my abole overlooking the winding Serpent’s Creek. Seek me out before the third night.”

With those words, the lord departed, leaving Emeriel in crippli relief and a surge of apprehension.

What had he done?

As Grand Lord Vladya composed his response to the letter from Azrael, the werewolf king, he found himself struggling to concentrate.

It was an unfamiliar experience. He had never experienced such difficulty before.

Azrael was an ally, and the content of the letter concerned a trade agreement between their realms. That alone should have demanded his undivided attention.

However, his mind waivered to concentrate, Wandering. Distracted.

I wish to strip for you, your majesty.”

Anger surged through his veins as the words echoed in his mind. The fact that such words affected him to the extent where he felt like a taut string, vibrating with suppressed rage, infuriated him greatly