The Crown Princess’s Chaste Training

※ This novel contains elements such as coercive relationships, which may not appeal to all readers. Please consider this before reading this novel.

Nikolai Horn.

The Crown Prince, the most beautiful man in the empire, the hero of the nation, a madman, a s*xual deviant, a womanizer, and an unpredictable beast who never seeks the same woman twice.

The woman he chose as his wife was the pure and innocent Elizaveta Diker.

“Let me make one thing clear, Diker. I don’t like you.”

Everyone predicted it. That savage, beautiful beast would quickly tire of the pitiful Elizaveta and discard her within two days.

But defying all expectations, Nikolai declared himself Elizaveta’s devoted servant.

“Tie me up. Spit on me and kick me, my beloved Elizaveta.”

Nikolai, who promised to introduce his virtuous wife to “pleasures,” transformed from a beast who violently tugged her hair and thrust his hips into her, to a dog who moaned obscenely at her feet.

He especially enjoyed role-playing. A pr*stitute, a war slave, a stepfather, or sometimes a stepson—each role was filthier than the last.

“Sob… Is this really supposed to feel good, Your Highness? Sob…”

Terrified by the man’s insane antics, Elizaveta cried every night. She couldn’t complain to her parents back home or confide in her friends at the imperial palace.

Yet, over time, Elizaveta found herself succumbing to Nikolai’s sadistic and perverse training, perfectly tailored to his twisted desires.

“Shut up and shake that vulgar c*ck of yours, Your Highness.”

* * *

Elizaveta stumbled upon Nikolai dressed in priestly robes in the secret garden of the imperial palace.

“Is today the day you’re indulging in the role of a holy servant of God, Your Highness?”

“…?”

“Your acting has improved quite a bit. Have you prepared yourself to be whipped by my firm and fiery lower body?”

“No, I don’t want to be whipped.”

Nikolai gripped her hand roughly, his strength intensifying.

“You’re truly… a pervert.”

Elizaveta whispered softly, impressed by the perfection of his role-playing.

“It’s not because I’m a pervert, but because I desire you so much.”

* * *

The sultry breathing, the massive build, the rippling muscles clinging to his skin—all of these were identical between Nikolai and Benedict. There was not a single difference between the two, except for one thing: a small mark on their g*nitals that appeared after puberty.

Elizaveta was the only person who had seen both of their c*cks. Thus, she was the only one who could tell them apart.