EPISODE 8: THE KING’S TOUCH, THE MISTRESS’S CURSE
1187 Words
Edric obeyed the king’s orders without hesitation. He wrapped Aurelia in a white sheet and carried her out of the royal chambers. She lay limp in his arms, lost in deep, exhausted sleep, utterly unaware of her surroundings.
As he made his way toward the servant’s quarters, he turned a corner—and there she was.
Elaria.
Her sharp gaze fell on them immediately. At first, curiosity flickered across her face, but when she took a closer look, her brows shot up in suspicion.
“What happened to her?” she demanded, striding toward them, her voice edged with intrigue.
“She had a session,” Edric answered simply.
A slow smile spread across Elaria’s face. The mere thought of Aurelia suffering filled her with delight. She wanted the princess to drown in misery—to feel every ounce of pain her family had inflicted upon them.
And no amount of suffering would ever be enough.
“She passed out?” she mused, her excitement barely contained. “Which one was it? The Whip? The Strip Session? Crawl and Torture? Devil’s Session?” She listed the cruel punishments eagerly, as if reciting a cherished poem.
But Edric’s next words wiped the amusement right off her face.
“It wasn’t any of those, Mistress.”
Her smile faltered. She took a closer look at Aurelia—still wrapped in that pristine white sheet. No blood. No bruises. Not a single mark of torture.
Frowning, she reached out, her fingers tugging at the sheet, searching for evidence. But Edric, for the first time, took a subtle step back, shielding the sleeping woman.
“She’s sleeping,” he said, his voice polite yet firm. “The king ordered that she not be disturbed.”
That made Elaria pause. Her lips curled in disbelief.
“The king gave such an order?”
“I do not question the king’s decisions, Mistress Elaria”, Edric replied, his tone carefully neutral.
Elaria’s confusion darkened into something else. Suspicion.
“The king took pleasure from her?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
Edric hesitated before giving a single nod.
A flicker of jealousy passed through her, but she masked it with indifference. “And who finished for him?” she pressed. “Surely not her?”
“I did,” Edric answered.
Elaria exhaled, relieved. If anyone had to take care of the king’s needs, she would rather it be Edric than that wretched slave. She knew Kaelen had no interest in men, not in that way—she and Edric both understood that.
But something still didn’t add up.
She scrutinized Edric again, her sharp gaze peeling away at his carefully controlled expression.
“If she served him, then why does she look like this?” she asked, voice laced with suspicion.
Edric hesitated before finally giving her the answer she wasn’t prepared for.
“The king rewarded her for being good.”
A beat of silence.
Then, the weight of his words settled in.
Elaria’s expression twisted in disbelief. “He gave her pleasure?” The very thought was enough to make her stomach churn.
Edric shrugged. “It was a pleasure session. She fell asleep on his bed.”
Elaria could barely choke out her next words.
“On. His. Bed?”
Jealousy burned through her like wildfire. Kaelen had never allowed her to sleep in his bed. Never. She had shared his body, his passion, his hatred—but not his bed.
So why was this slave different?
Her hands curled into fists.
Edric, ever the silent observer, said nothing. He almost reminded her that Kaelen had suffered just as much as she had. That her pain wasn’t unique. But he bit back the words—Elaria wouldn’t listen.
Her voice came out in a furious hiss. “Where is the king?”
“In his chambers,” Edric answered calmly. “Although, I doubt he’ll appreciate being distur—”
Elaria didn’t wait to hear the rest.
With anger burning in her chest, she stormed away, her mind racing.
She needed to put an end to this.
And she knew exactly how.
Edric continued his journey and finally arrived at Aurelia’s small chamber. Just as he reached for the door, it swung open.
Mira stood there, her eyes landing on the motionless figure in Edric’s arms.
And then—she burst into tears.
“He k-killed her?” Her voice trembled with horror.
The king had taken the lives of many slaves before. Their deaths meant nothing. They were animals, unworthy of grief. That was the law of King Kaelen’s Cone.
And many others before him.
“She’s not dead,” Edric reassured her. “She’s just sleeping.”
He stepped inside and carefully laid Aurelia down on the bed.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she shifted slightly, curling into the warmth of the sheets, still lost in deep slumber.
Mira’s relief was instant. “Thank you,” she breathed, bowing her head repeatedly. “Thank you so much, sir.”
Edric felt a rare moment of embarrassment. He had known Mira since his own days in captivity. He had watched her endure, watched her suffer—yet even now, she remained unfailingly kind.
“You’re welcome, Miss.” He nodded.
Mira’s face turned bright red. “I’m not a ‘Miss,’ sir. I’m no girl of privilege.”
Edric only nodded again before excusing himself.
Once he was gone, Mira turned her attention back to Aurelia.
She watched her carefully—each steady rise and fall of her chest. Alive. Breathing. Safe.
For now.
Elaria stormed toward the king’s chamber, her rage only growing.
But for the first time, the guards at his door didn’t move aside.
“Step aside,” she commanded.
They bowed their heads. “We apologize, Mistress, but the king is engaged in an important matter. He has ordered that he is not to be disturbed.”
Her jaw clenched. She was being denied entry?
“I dare you to lay a single filthy finger on me,” she snapped.
She shoved past them and threw open the doors—only to freeze.
A messenger stood in the center of the room, reading from a long scroll. King Kaelen sat behind his desk, listening intently.
They both turned at her sudden intrusion.
Kaelen’s expression darkened, his sharp gaze cutting through her.
“Elaria”.
One word. A warning.
Her throat went dry. “M-my king, I didn’t realize you were in the middle of something important…”
Kaelen’s mouth flattened in irritation. “Get out.”
The dismissal was absolute.
Shame flooded her as she turned and hurried from the room, barely keeping her head held high.
Aurelia had gotten under her skin—so much so that she had acted without thinking.
But she would not make that mistake again.
A slow, wicked smile curved her lips.
The king had already given her permission to punish Aurelia however she pleased.
And she intended to take full advantage of it.
All she had to do…
Was get the little slave alone.
- Writer
