An Ambush
Inside the carriage, Klyde quickly grabbed Vanessa’s arm and checked on the welt that had risen there due to the whip and frowned. The redness against her fair skin made him want to kill the spoiled bratty lady!
“Where else did she hit you?”
Vanessa tried to extract her arm from the prince’s grip, ashamed to tell him. It was her calf. But since she could not answer, Prince Klyde did exactly what she feared; he bent down and pulled up her skirt to see for himself.
Blushing like a tomato, Vanessa squealed and tried to push down the hem, protesting, “Master!”
The temperature in the carriage seemed to drop, and as the prince moved back angrily, Vanessa quickly straightened her askew clothing and tried to change the subject.
“Are we not going back to the palace?” She asked with curiosity.