Page 14 of The Princess In A 'Prince' Disguise

"H-help me," Prince Emeriel cried, his voice strained. Fresh tears filled his eyes. "Somebody... please help me."

Right. Amie had almost forgotten about his pain.

"Are you sick? How do you feel? Should I fetch the healer?" she asked, turning towards the door.

"No, don't call anyone! No one... can... see... me like this," he panted, hand gripping his engorged nipples… "I hurt everywhere. I don't know what's wrong with me."

At only nineteen years old, the other slaves often made fun of Amie, saying she wasn’t too smart.

Which was probably why she found it difficult to fully comprehend what Prince Emeriel was saying.I need to inform Madam Livia.

"Hang in there, I'll be back!" Amie exclaimed before swiftly running off.

Emeriel panted through another painful spasm in his belly, which radiated down to his intimate parts.

Despite the fear of someone discovering his secret and Amie's intention to seek help, he couldn't summon the energy to panic.

The pain was too much, rendering him too uncomfortable to focus on anything else.

I can’t take this anymore!

Emeriel adjusted himself onto his back, spread his legs, and pressed a finger firmly against the swollen nub between his legs throbbing intensely.

Pleasure tingled down his spine.

Oh? Interesting.

He repeated the motion, crying out as the pleasure intensified.

Soon, Emeriel was rubbing his oversensitive clit, unable to stifle his moans as his back arched off the bed.

He played with his feminine part, listening to his aching body, repeating every act that made him feel good.

Before long, an orgasm washed over him, drowning out the pain.

Yes, so good. So good.

Emeriel's body finally relaxed. The pain dulled, and for the first time since he left the forbidden chamber, his foggy mind cleared slightly.

What will I do about Amie?

He rose and cleaned himself up as best he could. The basin was now empty, and he needed to wash.

Grimacing, Emeriel put on his soiled clothes, then hoisted the sturdy wooden bucket with a firm grip and headed out of the chamber to find the well.

The night air was alive, far from the hush of silence one might expect. The harsh commands of the slavemasters punctuated the darkness, their relentless pursuit of productivity never ceasing, even under the cloak of night.

They drove their slaves mercilessly, the sound of clanking chains mingling with the distant, sorrowful groans echoing in the air.

Navigating with cautious steps, Emeriel found the hidden route that descended into the bowels of the compound, leading to the backyard. There, he filled the bucket with water.

But upon re-entering the fortress, and their chambers, it dawned on Emeriel.

Aekeira's voice. It was gone.

Panic gripped his heart.Could my sister be dead?

I need to clean up quickly and go to her!

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