OLDER SISTER SITTING ON YOUNGER BROTHER'S ABDOMEN
-Crash
"....!!!!"
The sound of a window breaking echoed through the area.
However, the Arabian Royal Guard, known for their ironclad protection of the royal family, remained motionless outside the door.
This was true for everyone except Fihir, the loyal hound and henchman of the reckless prince.
Fihir had once experienced the thrilling brink of death, his life and family's fate hanging in the balance due to the prince's well-being.
At the mere sound of a window shattering, Fihir reacted overly sensitively, dashing towards the door.
However, he was promptly intercepted by the Arabian Royal Guard, who approached him, foaming at the mouth with determination to stop him.
"أمير!!!!
(Prince!!!)"
"لا تقلق. تشامبرلين بيهير.
((Do not worry, Steward Fihir.)"
"I am worried!!"
"Don't you know, Steward? Who is inside the prince's room."
"That's exactly why I'm concerned!!"
The wellbeing of the reckless prince was not only a concern for Fihir but also for the royal guards.
However, the guards were confident.
The noblewoman in the prince's room was an exalted figure, who, until a few years before she left for studies in the French Empire, had visited every morning.
They believed that she wouldn't cause any trouble to the prince's health now, as she hadn't in the past.
Of course, even the Arabian Royal Guard couldn't ignore her high status.
But for Fihir, the prince's loyal servant, such beliefs were insignificant.
'Nonsense! You don't understand how wild these two madcaps can get. Besides, she hasn't been in the palace for years due to her studies in the French Empire. Her past visits are just that – the past. How can you predict their current madness?!'
As the sound of breaking windows continued, Fihir couldn't hold back anymore.
Ignoring the royal guards, he attempted to rush in.
"Just wait a little longer...."
"Move! I must go in right now!"
The situation became awkward for the guards as Steward Fihir, outranking them, insisted on entering.
It was the voice of another distinguished woman, attending the noblewoman, that halted him.
"Stop, Steward Fihir."
"...M,my daughter!!"
***
"What's that noise outside?"
"Don't pay attention to the sounds of the lowly commoners. Focus on me, won't you, Mansur?"
"Who do you think you are?"
"...You bastard."
Seemingly offended by my words, the girl began to press down on my abdomen with her hips, moving up and down.
The problem was that her ample chest and hips made no impact on me.
In fact, it was rather stimulating.
'What's this? A beauty rivaling a celebrity is riding on me and rubbing her hips? Are women's hips always this soft?'
-Throb
-Throb
Her green eyes staring at me seemed to possess a mystical power to draw men in.
The girl, exuding sexual allure, looked as if she was about to beg to be devoured by me.
But the haughty expression of the blonde seductress irked me somehow. Reluctantly, I stared back at her.
"..."
"..."
Frankly, this situation felt unreal to me.
I, who couldn't even look women in the eye, was now gazing intently at this stunning beauty.
It was more comfortable to think it was a dream...
But was this really just a dream?
Lost in this dream-like scenario, I finally managed to sit up and look around.
Then I realized.
I was not the trifecta of woes - impotent, orphaned, and only high-school educated - Jin Tae Baek Seonwoo, but Mansur bin Faisal of the Arabian Royal House.
"...So it's not a dream?"
"What dream are you talking about?"
"Nothing. Just that a pretty girl is climbing on my abdomen and shaking her hips like a worn-out harlot in a sensual scene-"
-Slap!!
For a moment, I thought I saw stars in the sky.
As anyone would know, this was because my brain was jolted by a slap from the pretty girl on my abdomen.
But this blonde minx had the audacity to be defiant.
"Choke!!"
"A harlot, you say?! You really know no bounds with your words, do you?!"
"To slap someone for that..."
As my mind wavered, I could see it.
The girl, her face flushed red, rubbing her hips and plump lower body against me, and looking at me with heated eyes in this unbelievable situation.
"But it's too provocative."
"Provocative?! And when did I shake my hips?!!"
"....You are doing it right now.... with your plump lower body on my abdomen."
"Kyaaaa!! Shut up!! Lower body, you say!!"
-Slap
-Slap
For my careless words, I received a couple of slaps on my cheek from the blonde mixed-race girl.
'Even though I am the son of the Sultan...'
-Slap
-Slap
***
A fierce physical struggle that lasted about a minute left me brimming with a sense of inferiority.
'I was utterly overpowered, but it couldn't be helped.'
'The difference in physical prowess between myself and the girl, who boasted a sensuous figure, was just too great, given my lack of exercise.'
'And how could a true man strike a woman? Right. I definitely didn't lose.'
'I just let it happen... It must be that way.... Damn it!!! Even so, being bested by a woman?!'
Inferiority from my male-dominant beliefs!
The humiliation of being defeated by a woman!
The frustration of being the Sultan's son yet having no one to protect me in this cursed situation! An innate sense of inferiority!
Thanks to Fihir, who burst through the door, I was finally able to escape the girl's clutches.
'Ah, Fihir! You've finally come to rescue me?!'
My henchman and loyal dog, Fihir...
For some reason, I felt an urge to keep him close.
Of course, my shallow gratitude disappeared as soon as I saw the Middle Eastern beauty who entered with Fihir.
'Purple eyes and silver hair, with an explosive figure even in a suit! Damn, she's hot! I want her... want to have her. How does one even go about that?'
As I sneakily glanced at Sheika, the blonde harlot's aide and Fihir's daughter, pondering these thoughts, Fihir relayed the entire story and identity of the girl who had beaten me.
"So... you're saying she's my older sister by one year?"
"Yes."
"Crazy! Even if she's an older sister, is it okay to beat up her brother like this?!!"
"T, that's... I'm sorry."
"...."
"How could I have known you lost your memory?"
Yasmin, my sister who seemed to adore Yas, looked at Fihir and me with a haughty expression, crossing her legs while seated on an elegant chair.
And I instinctively felt it.
There was no affection for family in Yasmin's gaze towards me.
'So, am I really the notorious prince? A complete disaster of a family?'
Of course, I was unaware.
Yasmin, my sister, reigning in the Middle East, filled with the notion that royalty must not show weakness, was internally breaking down.
'Oh no! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! Ahhhhh'
-cry
-cry
However, clueless as I was, I continued to press her.
Yes, I am trash.
"You didn't know I was hurt?! You really had no idea that your brother nearly got assassinated at a construction site?!"
"Assassination?!!"
"Well, that's not confirmed. Anyway, you didn't know?! That the palace was in turmoil, your own family!"
"....."
"You're not really my family, are you?"
-Kugugugung
-Kugugugung
Yasmin was speechless at my words.
The once defiant expression on her face seemed to wither away…
Somehow, the pain from the slaps I received earlier seemed to fade.
Unaware that she had hurriedly returned from the French Empire as soon as she heard I was injured.
The more I think about it, the more I seem like the bad guy, right?
Looking at me with such thoughts were Fihir and Sheika.
'Bad guy.'
'Complete jerk. How can he say such things after our princess rushed here by plane?'
The only one who seemed to worry about me was Yasmin.
'Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!'
Worry... right?