บททั้งหมดของ Enslaved Princess of the Lycan King: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

HERAI paced back and forth near the entrance of the slave quarters, my heart beating with a mix of worry and anticipation. I scanned the shadows around me, hoping no one was watching my every move. My eyes kept darting towards the entrance, waiting for Pam to show up.What if someone saw me? What if they knew what I was up to? The consequences would be disastrous. I couldn't afford to be caught. Or have the news related to King Zahir. I heard footsteps approaching, and I tensed up, ready to bolt if necessary. But there were only a few slaves passing by, and they gave a curtsey and then went on their way. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding.Where was Pam? I checked my pocket watch; she was already ten minutes late. Did someone find out about our arrangement? I waited, pacing back and forth, checking the shadows, and praying that Pam would show up soon.As I kept a lookout for anyone watching, I saw Pam step out of the slave quarters. She looked around cautiously, making s

SERAFINAVallie's sister didn't need to say more and I was already out of the storage room, and without hesitation, I sprinted as fast as I could to get there. Vallie's sister followed behind me as we raced towards the quarters. Dahlia, joined in at our quick pace. My heart was pounding as I anticipated the worst-case scenario for Vallie As we approached the quarters, my mind was swirling with different possibilities as to what might have happened. The conditions for the slaves were already squalid, so the thought of a child suffering in such conditions was unbearable. Surely, it must be exhaustion or lack of food causing her harm. The system here was cruel, and it didn't spare anyone, especially not children.As we arrived, I rushed into the room, scanning the area to find the young girl. The room was large, and it took me a moment to notice that the other slaves had huddled together on the other side of the room. My heart racing, I pushed my way through the crowd, desperate to see

SERAFINAHera stormed in, her eyes blazing with anger."What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice sharp and cold.I turned to her, feeling a sense of panic rise within me. I knew that I had to tread carefully, or I could end up in serious trouble. "It's Valle.," I said quickly, my voice shaking slightly. "She's sick, and the physician is trying to help her."Hera's eyes narrowed as she looked at me, suspicion etched on her face. "What do you mean, sick?" she asked sharply. "Is she contagious?"I shook my head quickly. "No, Mistress," I said, my voice urgent. "It's not contagious. She's been poisoned, and the physician is doing everything she can to save her."Hera's expression was icy and unyielding. "I don't care, Serafina," she said coldly. "You broke the rules, and worse, you threatened a royal physician into doing the same thing. What were you thinking?""Please you have to understand," I said urgently as the queen walked into the physician's room, her eyes blazing with anger

HERA I couldn't sit still. My mind was in turmoil ever since I received a letter from Lord Timothee. I paced around my room, clutching his words tightly in my hand. I weighed the gravity of his expectations. His words echoed in my mind, each sentence piercing through my thoughts like a dagger. I could feel the weight of his expectations pressing upon me – he knew that only when Serafina was gone would he have the opportunity to get the King out of the way with my help. That alone was a reminder of the dangerous game I had played.I carefully unfolded the letter, the crisp parchment revealing Lord Timothee's elegant handwriting. His words held a sense of urgency which matched the gravity of our plans. Every word seemed to come alive, reminding me of the immense responsibility I held, and had messed up somehow. "Hera,I trust this letter finds you well. I write to inquire about the progress of our plan concerning the young Princess slave Serafina. Has the potion been successfully adm

SERAFINA I sat there, contemplating the game of checkers laid out before me. How could something so simple and seemingly trivial be the source of such defeat for the slave girls? I had anticipated a challenge, a test of skill or strategy, but instead, I found myself facing a mere game of checkers. I couldn't help but wonder why so many had failed at it.Granted, luck played a role, but surely, someone among the multitude of girls should have been able to play and win. It was a game of chance, but it also required a sharp intellect and strategic thinking. I had encountered similar mind games back at the palace, and they posed no challenge for me. So why were the slave girls consistently defeated?And then it dawned on me. The answer was rooted in their upbringing and circumstances. I had been born and bred in the palace, raised as a princess before being forced into slavery. My education and exposure to intellectual pursuits were extensive. But these girls, they had spent their entire