?Chapter 672:


    Alice frowned, falling into thought.


    The silence stretched between us until her eyes lit up with a spark of inspiration. “What if Martin became your servant?”


    I blinked, taken aback. “My… servant?”


    She nodded eagerly, leaning closer. “Think about it. If Martin’s your servant, he’d be with you most of the time. You’d have a front-row seat to anything Antoni might try. Plus, if Antoni came up with some excuse to mess with Martin, you’d have the authority to intervene.”


    Her idea was clever, but it raised its ownplications.


    “But how would that even work?” I asked, frowning. “I’m still a sex ve myself, Alice. That’s my status here. Besides, people already see Evie as my maid. Having another servant would be… conspicuous, don’t you think?”


    Alice mulled it over, her brow creasing in frustration. After a long pause, she sighed and shook her head. “You’re right. It’d draw too much attention. Damn it! I guess I don’t have the perfect solution either. But don’t stress. We’ll figure something out. One step at a time.”


    As our conversation wound down, Evelyn entered the room with her signature poise, her every movement exuding grace.


    She stopped in front of the group, her serene voice slicing through the murmurs. “Today’s training will focus on core strengthening exercises.”


    Makenna’s POV:


    The moment those words left Evelyn’s lips, the room dissolved into a hum of restless chatter.


    One of the younger women raised a hesitant hand, her cheeks flushed red. “Miss Nixon, what… what’s the point of practicing this?”


    Evelyn responded with her usual practiced warmth, her gaze sweeping across the room like a nurturing mother addressing her brood. “You must understand,” she began softly, “a tight vagina is what brings the princesfort. Only when they are pleased can we hope to earn their affection. And here, in this pce, their affection determines whether we live well.”


    Mσr? υpdαt?s ín Gαlnσv?ls.cσm


    Her reasoning struck a sour chord within me, and I fought the urge to grimace.


    Affection? I had already stopped craving their affection. The very thought of seeking their approval turned my stomach, let alone enduring this humiliating charade of training.


    As Evelyn continued speaking, I tried—and failed—to think of an excuse to leave. My mind floundered, desperate for an escape route, but no clever solution presented itself.


    Soon, Evelyn led us to an adjacent room,rger and even more unsettling than thest.


    She gestured toward a pile of clothing stacked neatly in the corner. “Everyone,” she said with measured calm, “change into these bodysuits. Quickly now.”


    I stepped forward hesitantly, my fingers brushing the fabric. The moment I lifted one, my face burned red. The bodysuit was ludicrously revealing—crafted from silky material withce trimmings, it seemed designed to leave as little to the imagination as possible. The open-back design and strategically cut panels made it clear this wasn’t mere exercise attire. It was bait. How could anyone wear this?


    Mortified, I struggled to form words of protest, but before I could, Alice shot up. “This is so perverted! I refuse to wear this!”


    Evelyn remained as calm as a still pond. “You must understand. This is all for the princes. Without their affection, you have no ce here. Is that what you want?”


    Alice was speechless. She bit her lip, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, but she didn’t answer. None of us did.


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