19. THE AGONY OF TWO SISTERS.
Chapter nineteen
THE AGONY OF TWO SISTERS.
Emeriel found himself with no other choice but to reluctantly close his mouth around the repulsive member.
His stomach churned, and he gagged, coming dangerously close to throwing up, especially when that phallus hit the back of his throat.
A commotion broke out in the distance. The sounds of breaking objects and male voices shouting curses filled the air.
"Motherfuckers! They are fighting again," Master Boris cursed, pulling away from Emeriel.
Hastily, he fixed his pants, muttering angry curses under his breath. "This is not over," he hissed at Emeriel before he turned and stormed off.
Emeriel had never felt such relief. He glared at the door as he wiped his mouth clean.
The door swung open, and Amie entered. "Are you alright, Prince Emeriel?"
"Could you please not call me that?" Emeriel snapped angrily.
"Sorry," Amie lowered her head, chagrined. "It's a habit, and I'll w-work on it."
"Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's not your fault. It's just..." Emeriel shook his head, his shaking hand smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes.
"It's alright, I understand. I'm not even of royal lineage, and yet sometimes I feel that anger too. After they hurt you, force themselves upon you, you try to plead, but they laugh. Because you're a plaything, you're not supposed to beg." Amie's voice cracked a bit. "After that feeling of utter helplessness comes the anger. All-consuming. Overwhelming."
She understands.
The fact that someone understood brought tears to Emeriel's eyes. Impulsively, he pulled Amie into a hug, and the girl's arms wrapped around him. "I'm sorry. And thank you, Amie."
"It's alright, Prin—Emeriel. It's alright. I understand more than you think," the girl muttered.
When Emeriel withdrew from the embrace, he tried to hide his fear. Back in Navia, he was not so easily overcome by fear.
Perhaps it was because, although Navia was equally dreadful, it was somewhat better. There, he could fight. He could defend himself. But here, he was as physically weak as his circumstances.
Struggling to quell the fear inside him, he ran his hands through his disheveled hair. That was a close call. Too close.
Emeriel swallowed tightly. He was so tired.
All of a sudden, the urge to see Aekiera became a living thing inside him. He needed to see his sister. To ensure she was alright.
When their day's work finally came to an end, Emeriel and Amie walked together into the fortress. They parted ways in the slaves's quarters, and Emeriel set off to find his sister.
Although Aekiera had been assigned to work within the fortress, her status as the beast's sex slave remained unchanged. Therefore, she still had her chambers in the main area.
Emeriel opened the door to her bedchamber to find Aekiera in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. Her head snapped toward the door when it opened, and relief filled her eyes.
"Em!" she exclaimed, rushing towards him. Emeriel met her halfway, and they embraced passionately.
"I've been worried sick. It's been over a week." Emeriel pulled back and scrutinized his elder sister, searching for any signs of bruises or harm.
"I've been worried too, Em. I've tried to make a conscious effort to visit, but I always end up so exhausted by the end of the long days that I fall asleep as soon as my head touches the bed." Aekiera looked guilty, but Emeriel understood. Most days were like that for him as well.
"How are you doing, Keira? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Fetching water and emptying basins have their advantages. They keep you so busy that the slavemasters don't get the chance to act on whatever wicked thoughts they have. It's an advantage that comes in handy." Aekiera settled back into her chair, and Emeriel stood behind her, taking the brush from her. Then gently ran it through her blond locks.
"I'm glad to hear that."
"What about you, Em? I loathe the fact that they do not assign you a specific duty. They constantly change your tasks. It would be better if you had a consistent role, even if it meant enduring some stress. You would be at less risk of working for wicked slavemasters if you only interacted with a few of them," Aekeira expressed her concern. "Perhaps the cellar would be best."
"Not the cellar," Emeriel countered fast. Too fast.
Aekeira turned her head sharply. "What is wrong? Has anyone... Have those masters been cruel to you?"
Emeriel hesitated. But it was always hard lying to Aekiera. "Not both. One of them has…has taken an interest in me."
His sister froze, dread pooling in her eyes, worry replacing tiredness. "Oh, dear lord..."
"You need not worry," Emeriel was quick to add. Saddened by those looks, he aimed to make her feel better. "He has not acted on his desires yet. I reminded him that I belong to a grand lord, and it made him cautious."
"Nothing can make them cautious, Em. You do not have to lie to me. I understand I cannot always protect you, but it breaks my heart to think that after everything you went through with the beast not long ago, some useless master is onto you again." Aekeira's sorrowful eyes burned with anger. "Perhaps I should poison him."
Emeriel was so startled that for a whole minute, he was unable to form words. "No! Do not do that. Have you forgotten the consequences of killing a master!? You would be whipped, tortured. Burned alive!"
"One has to get caught first." Aekeira squared her shoulder stubbornly.
"Nothing remains hidden under the sun. Aside from their investigations, these people are Urekai, not humans. They possess heightened senses and numerous magical artifacts that could rival even the mages. You would be caught," Emeriel pleaded.
If they began to kill every slavemaster who mistreated them, how many would they have to kill? It would become an endless cycle of violence. How long would it take before their own humanity faded away and they turned into monsters?
"We are slaves, Aekeira," Emeriel spoke softly, his voice filled with resignation as he continued to untangle her hair with the brush. "This is our fate."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"That is usually my line, Em. I am usually the one speaking of despair and acceptance," Aekeira's voice cracked. "You were always the one offering encouraging words, saying all that nonsense about faith and hope."
“Yes,” Emeriel conceded. But when one has a secret so burdening, when one's body undergoes weird changes, has been brutally mounted by a feral beast, roughly handled, and lashed with a thorned whip, one is bound to feel so exhausted.
"I am just so tired, Keira," he kept his voice steady and light. His sister must not know how much he was breaking inside.
However, Aekeira, always perceptive, rose again, turned, and pulled him into another heartwarming embrace. Emeriel went easily, hugging her tightly as he breathed in her familiar scent.
Aekeira always smelled like their mother. It was soothing.
Until Aekeira's hand pressed against his back, unintentionally applying pressure to his wound, sending a sharp pang of pain through his body. Emeriel jerked, crying out in pain.
His sister pulled away, her brows furrowed, "What is the matter?"
"It's nothing. Do not worry about it."
But Aekeira refused to let it go. She untucked his shirt from his pants and raised it, her eyes scanning his body intently.
"It’s not nothing," Aekeira insisted, gently pulling his shirt over his head. Proceeding to remove his other two shirts until the chest-binds were exposed. She gasped, taking a step back.
"You were wh-whipped?"
"It was not too severe. Besides, it is already healing. Madam Livia said it will be completely gone by next week."
A tear escaped Aekeira's eyes. "You w-were whipped?"
Emeriel closed the distance between them, his arm enveloping Aekeira, speaking in a soothing tone, "Do not let it trouble you, Aekeira. You have endured far worse—"
"Yes, men have forced themselves upon me. Some I had to cooperate with willingly to avoid incurring King Orestus's wrath. Most times, they only take their pleasure without inflicting violent harm upon me. I am either in pain or numb to it. But none of them ever whipped me, Em."
"You downplay it for my sake, sister. I was there too, remember? I know what it feels like. I would not argue with you on it, but I only want you to be strong for me as well. Just as I have always been strong for you," he pleaded, fighting back his own tears. "Especially on a night like this when I'm finding it so hard to keep being strong, Kiera."
"I am deeply sorry, Em. I am here for you," Aekeira's voice trembled as she began to weep outrightly, her arms holding Emeriel tenderly. "I never wanted this fate for you. Perhaps you are right. Maybe we should escape."
"Aekeira—"
"We will never know until we try! I hate this! I hate that we have to go through all of this, and we are so helpless to stop it! I despise it!" Aekeira cried out with fervor, sorrowfully.
"I live in fear every day, uncertain when I will be sent to please the beast again. It has been weeks, so it will happen soon enough.” Her tears soaked Emeriel's shoulder. “The ceremony for the presentation of new slaves is imminent. We will be passed around to so many males we will lose count of those who violate our bodies. They will strip you, and your secret will be revealed. What will happen then? What will they do to you? I live in fear every day, Em."
Silent tears streamed down Emeriel's face.
"We have no one here, Em. We cannot rely on miracles. What awaits us? Will we live like this forever? It t-tears me apart to contemplate such a fate." Aekeira wept, sobs choking her throat. "This is all my fault. I should have never prayed to leave Navia. This is not what I meant when I said those prayers, Em. At least in Navia, you were safe. We did not have to live in fear of... everything . This is a fate worse than Navia."
In the embrace of the night's silence, they cried together.
Aekeira’s tears flowed unchecked, her face swollen and eyes red. She took hold of Emeriel's hands, her grip firm. "Let us escape. One day. Let us try."