I left my grandfather's room with my legs trembling and my ass still burning from everything that had just happened. Valthor's cum slowly dripped down my thighs, and the taste of my own cum on Esther's face still lingered in my mouth. I closed the door behind me and leaned against the hallway wall for a second, breathing hard. My little sister had just betrayed me in the most humiliating way possible, and I… I had cum like a dog while she kicked my cock.
I felt dirty. Broken. Aroused.
I walked to my room as fast as I could, avoiding the servants I passed. The moment I closed the door, I tore off my clothes in a hurry. The pink lingerie was soaked and disgusting. I threw it into a corner as if it burned and put on clean prince's clothes: an immaculate white shirt, dark pants, and the light cape with the royal emblem. I looked at myself in the mirror. On the outside, I once again looked like the heir to the throne. On the inside, I was still the same dog who had just licked his sister's pussy full of his grandfather's cum.
I sat on the bed for a moment, trying to calm down. The image of Esther laughing while she kicked me was still fresh. "We're going to be Grandpa's slaves," she had said. And I… I had accepted it.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.
"Allen… can I come in?"
It was Elyra.
I opened the door. She was there, still in her white saint's robe, her silver-white hair loose and shining. She smiled at me with that pure tenderness that always made me feel like there was still something good in me.
"I came back earlier than I thought," she said softly. "Do you want to get something to eat? I'm starving after the blessing."
I nodded, forcing a smile.
"Sure. Let's go."
We walked together down the hallways toward the small dining room we used when we wanted to be alone. Elyra stayed by my side, her hand brushing mine from time to time. We talked about simple things: how her morning at the church headquarters had gone, about a memory from when we were kids and hid in the kitchen to steal sweets. Her voice was soft, warm, and for a few minutes I almost managed to forget everything that had happened that morning.
We reached the dining room. The servants served us quickly and then withdrew. We were left alone, but several guards patrolled the outer hallway. Every time they passed near the open door, their eyes fixed on Elyra without any shame.
One of them, a tall man with a short beard, looked her up and down and whispered something to his companion. I caught only fragments:
"…the Saint has even better tits than Aiz…"
"…when the prince isn't looking, we're going to use her just like the fiancée…"
"…look how they're outlined under the robe… I bet she's wet just from us looking…"
They laughed quietly and kept walking.
Elyra said nothing. But I saw how her breathing quickened a little. Her cheeks flushed with a faint blush. She crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table and squeezed her thighs discreetly, as if trying to control something that was awakening inside her. She didn't look at me. She only smiled more, leaning slightly forward to take a grape, making the fabric of her robe cling a little tighter to her large breasts.
It was a small movement. Almost innocent.
But she did it on purpose.
I felt a knot in my stomach and at the same time my small cock jumped inside my pants. The potion was doing its work, even if she didn't fully know it yet.
We kept talking. Elyra told me more about her life in the church, about how she missed the simple days when we were just friends. I told her about memories of the garden, about how her laughter had always been my favorite place. The conversation flowed naturally, beautifully, filled with that sweet nostalgia that made me feel like I could still save something.
At one point, Elyra leaned forward a little more to serve me tea. Her robe opened slightly at the neckline. Two guards passing at that exact moment stopped for a second longer than necessary, devouring her with their eyes. One of them openly licked his lips.
Elyra noticed. Her pupils dilated a little. She lowered her gaze, but she didn't cover herself. On the contrary, she stayed like that a few seconds longer than necessary before straightening up, as if she enjoyed knowing they were looking.
She said nothing. She only smiled at me with that same tenderness and continued talking as if nothing had happened.
I was burning inside. Guilt. Arousal. Fear. All mixed together.
When we finished eating, we stood up. Elyra walked beside me down the hallway. The guards kept looking at her. She knew it. And little by little, very slowly, she began to provoke them in an almost imperceptible way: a slightly more pronounced sway of her hips, a gesture of brushing her hair aside that revealed more of her neck, a quick glance toward them before returning to me.
We reached a quieter section of the hallway. Elyra stopped and looked at me.
"Allen…" she whispered.
She stepped closer. Her blue eyes shone. She placed a hand on my chest and stood on her tiptoes.
She gave me a small, soft, innocent kiss… right on the lips. Just a warm, brief touch, but full of affection and something more that still had no name.
She pulled back a little, blushing, and smiled.
"Thank you for breakfast," she said softly. "It makes me very happy to be with you."