Page 56 of The Slave in A Princess Disguise

After a refreshing dip in the nearby stream, they retreated to Emeriel's chambers, the air thick with the scent of lavender and chamomile.

"I am off to Lord Herod's," Emeriel said, standing patiently as Aekeira secured her chest binds. "I promised to assist with his ledgers."

"Very well," Aekeira tightened the knots. "Just remember to return early. Madam Livia wishes to inspect all the slaves tonight."

"Ouch!" Emeriel winced as a knot pulled too tight.

"Sorry," Aekeira murmured, adjusting the bind. "Is it better now?"

Emeriel nodded, a hint of discomfort still etched on her face. Even with the adjustment, her breasts still ached. Remembering what the grand king had done to them, her cheeks flushed.

Clearing her throat, she asked, "Have you seen Hansel since that night?"

"Yes, thankfully. Turns out he ran for help after those... those men took me. But by the time he returned…” she shook her head.

"I still find it difficult to believe Lord Vladya saved you," Emeriel said, her voice hushed with awe. "He killed all those men to protect you."

Aekeira scoffed. "I doubt it was solely for my sake. His beast is nearly out of control. He likely sought the thrill of the kill."

"Oh, please. He spared your life, did he not? Lord Vladya may be intense, but I believe he possesses a tenderness for you, though he would never admit it"

"You speak nonsense, dear sister," Aekeira retorted, her disbelief evident. She finished securing the bind and took a step back, critically surveying her work. "There. All done."

Emeriel beamed with gratitude and embraced her. But, as Aekeira returned the gesture, an inexplicable wave of revulsion washed over her, causing her to instinctively recoil.

Her sister's touch felt... wrong. Unsettling. What was once comforting now stirred an unfamiliar unease within her.

"Em?" Aekeira's voice was a gentle murmur against her shoulder. "You just stiffened. Are you well?"

Emeriel nodded, quickly pulling away from the hug. “Just a little sore from all the work."

The discomfort lingered as she made her way to Lord Herod's estate. Upon her arrival, the guards, who typically offered polite nods, now openly stared at her. Their gazes lingered a moment too long.

One soldier even inhaled sharply as she passed, his nostrils flaring.

Entering the study, Emeriel found Lord Herod hunched over the familiar massive worktable filled with parchment scrolls, leather-bound books, and a steaming goblet of tea.

As he raised his eyes and caught sight of her, his face brightened."Emeriel, you're here."

"Greetings, My Lord," she replied with a respectful bow.

"Spare me the formalities and get over here," he dismissed, adjusting his spectacle. Lord Herod peered at a scroll. "These figures refuse to align. I know not if it is my own error, but I want you to take a look at—" He paused abruptly, his head snapping up. "Emeriel, your scent..."

She stopped short before him. "What's wrong? I'm on suppressants today."

"You are?" Lord Herod's nose twitched, his nostrils flaring. "It's not working then, because I can smell you. A lot." He paused, a look of confusion crossing his face. "And you smell... different. I cannot quite place it, but there's something new."

"Really?" Emeriel frowned. "Maybe I miscalculated the dosage today or something."

Lord Herod's eyes narrowed. "Or your heat cycle is here."

Emeriel scoffed, shaking her head vehemently. "Please do not even joke about something like that, My Lord. I feel fine. I've had mini-heats before, and I can definitely tell you that I'm not in heat right now. I’m not feeling anything like that." She leaned forward, her eyes scanning the scroll before him, desperately seeking a distraction. "I need to look at these records carefully."

Hours passed as Lord Herod observed with growing concern as Emeriel flitted about the study like a moth caught in a lantern’s glow.

She paced, she perched on the cushions, and she paced once more, her brow furrowed in concentration, as she clutched a stack of parchments in her shaky hands.

"You could try rotating crops, My Lord," she suggested, her voice clipped and focused. "Planting legumes in one season and grains in the next could potentially replenish the soil."

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