Page 127 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

He straightened and met Zaiper’s gaze. "Yes, my Lord?"

"If I desire to end a human's life without summoning them, as I intend to avoid any connection between their demise and myself, how might I bring this individual into my presence?" Zaiper inquired in a bored tone.

Razarr pondered the question. "May I ask a question, Your Highness?" Zaiper gestured for him to proceed. "Could this human be the human prince?"

Zaiper displayed no surprise at Razarr's knowledge. The male had an uncanny understanding of his thoughts, which Zaiper found appealing. "Indeed, it could be."

"In that case," Razarr proposed, "permit me to eliminate him discreetly and bury him in Blackstone. No one would ever trace it back to you."

"A commendable idea," Zaiper acknowledged. "However, I am intrigued to observe the boy more closely. I wish to uncover what makes him tick. Besides, that charming little backside of his..." Zaiper tilted his head to the side, his words trailing off. "Daemonikai's beast had the boy once, and for some reason, it’s fixating. I want to mount him, too. I need to understand what the fuss is all about, before I dispose of him."

Razarr remained stoic, offering no visible reaction, but Zaiper knew the wheels were turning in his mind. Zaiper allowed him the time to think; after all, Razarr had a capable head attached to his shoulders.

Eventually, Razarr broke the silence. "You could summon his sister. It is no secret how close the siblings are. If we bring the sister here, the boy will undoubtedly come running."

Zaiper mulled over the idea, his interest piqued. "Go on."

"We shall go to the southern wings and forcefully bring the girl to Greyrock. Outsiders need only know that you requested the princess's presence. I will dispatch a slave to inform the boy that his sister has been forcibly taken. This news will surely prompt the boy to come rushing to his sister's aid. Once he sets foot in Greyrock, his fate will be sealed.” He paused. “With Grand Lord Vladya away and Grand Lord Ottai preoccupied with his ailing bondmate, no one will be able to save him. Once the prince arrives, you may release the princess,” Razarr concluded. “What are your thoughts, my Lord?"

"I must admit, Razarr, that you are a genius," Zaiper commended. "Secure the princess, and the prince shall undoubtedly follow. Why had this plan not occurred to me before?"

Drawing closer to Razarr, Zaiper slid his hand behind the male's neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss born out of sheer happiness.

A soft whine escaped Razarr, his composure crumbling into desire as he melted into Zaiper's embrace. The grand Lord kissed him fervently. Thoroughly. Zaiper explored his mouth with hunger, until the scent of Razarr's arousal filled the air.

Relinquishing the embrace, Zaiper stepped back, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "You have served me well, Razarr. Vladya is slated to return in two days' time. Therefore, tomorrow, we shall set our plan in motion. I want that princess brought to me, do you understand?"

"Um, I—I..." Razarr blinked repeatedly, attempting to clear his head.

Zaiper watched, amusement dancing in his gaze. He enjoyed seeing his formidable head soldier, usually so composed, reduced to a flustered and intoxicated state because of him.

"Yes, m-my Lord," Razarr finally managed to stammer.

Zaiper turned to face the window, his voice resonating with determination. "Tomorrow shall mark Emeriel's final day in this world. I shall ensure it, without a doubt."

Aekeira heaved a sigh of relief as she finished her tasks for the day. Every muscle ached; the water drums were heavy even when only half-full, and her hands were raw from hauling the rough new well-ropes. As she returned the last chipped bucket to the dusty gloom of the storage shed, a prickle of unease crawled down her spine at the sight of the slavemaster who often targeted her.

The slavemaster, a bull of a man whose beady eyes always seemed to find her, stalked toward her, his heavy boots kicking up a cloud of dust.

"What are you doing, idling around and dragging your feet, slave? Have you finished your duties?" His sneer twisted his already cruel mouth, his tone laced with contempt.

"Yes, Master Tyke," Aekeira replied meekly, keeping her gaze lowered. It was safer not to meet his eyes.

"Well, there is still more to be done. I want you to clean the water storage areas and the wells to minimize contamination.” His voice held a new, oily note, a threat veiled as a command.

Aekeira thought of the work she had promised to assist Em with, as she was planting new flowers that day. Her hesitation was a heartbeat too long.

The slavemaster's face mottled an ugly red, rage twisting his features. "How dare you stand there silently? I gave you an order!"

"Y-yes, of course, Master," Aekeira stammered, spinning around to hasten to her designated duty spot.

But the slavemaster was not willing to let her off so easily. "Stop right there! Five lashes of the whip for your blatant disobedience!"

"But, Master, I did not—"

"Ten lashes! One of you slaves fetch me the whip!" the slavemaster bellowed, and a nearby slave scuttled off, returning moments later with a sturdy whip, handing it over to the slavemaster. The leather gleamed darkly in the harsh sunlight.

Aekeira’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird against its cage. Oh stars, what had she done to deserve this?

---