Chapter 49:
Makenna’s POV:
I returned to my house, poured myself a glass of icy water, and downed it in one swift gulp. The cool liquid brought a semblance of calm.
As I reflected on the day’s events, irritation gnawed at me.
Bryan had subjected me to relentless torment, leaving me utterly drained. I could do nothing but endure his cruelty. On top of that, the other sex slaves and Kristina seemed determined to make my life even more unbearable.
I’d barely managed to survive dealing with Bryan, the degenerate. Now, others had joined the fray, further entangling me in a web of trouble.
The image of Kristina’s smirk and the nervous expression of one of her followers earlier left me seething. The veins in the back of my hand bulged as I gripped the water glass with a tight fist.
I was convinced that Kristina was behind the incident.
But I had no proof. The staff might have already been bribed by her, ensuring the matter would remain unresolved.
Even with evidence, I knew it would be futile. Would the king really punish the future queen over a sex slave?
That was a distant dream.
Even if I had met my end in the gym, nothing would change.
The thought of it filled me with frustration. Surviving in this perilous place as a lowly sex slave was a Herculean task.
But within moments, my resolve hardened once more.
Kristina had nearly been the end of me this time. Next time, she would surely escalate her cruelty. I couldn’t just sit idly by. I had to act, or else her aggression would only grow.
My mind also lingered on Frank and Jessica’s betrayal and ruthlessness.
My heart grew cold and steely. I vowed to make those who had wronged me pay dearly. It was the only reason I dared to navigate this treacherous palace.
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No matter the challenges ahead, I had to persevere. Defeat was not an option.
The night sped by, and with dawn came my usual routine of training.
Before I reached the training area, I noticed a crowd gathered, their voices raised in agitation. It seemed something was amiss.
As I drew closer, my frown deepened.
In the center of the throng, Alice sat on the ground in despair. A soldier, with a stern expression, kicked her and commanded, “This is Prince Bryan’s order. You better strip and follow through with the punishment. Don’t make us do it ourselves.”
My heart sank. I recalled the punishment for the loser of the competition yesterday.
Bryan had taken me, the victor, away. Alice, having lost, was now destined to run through the palace in the nude as her punishment.
Alice was overwhelmed, her cries piercing the air. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, “I don’t want this… Please, spare me. Can you ask Prince Bryan for mercy? Please!”
Her sobs echoed through the crowd, and their eyes softened with sympathy.
Unable to bear her suffering, I felt a pang of compassion.
The punishment was unbearably humiliating. Even as sex slaves, we had our dignity and self-respect.
In a sudden moment of clarity, Alice spotted me amidst the crowd. Her eyes lit up with hope. She lunged toward me, her desperation palpable.
“Please, Makenna,” she implored, her voice trembling.
She fell to her knees, clutching the hem of my trousers. “Please… You’re close to Prince Bryan. Can you intercede for me? I promise I won’t oppose you again, I swear it!”
