Rough hands pressed my arms above my head, securing me to the plank. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly powerless as the reality of my situation sank in. The eerily quiet courtyard, once a haven of tranquility, had turned into a public stage of humiliation and punishment broken only by the soft murmurs of servants who prepared to carry out their master’s punishment, as well as those who stood around to watch.
Lord Zacharia watched impassively as he nodded to the servant who stood ready with a flogging whip. “Let her feel the weight of her actions!” he declared, his voice resonating with authority and a hint of regret.
I glared up at him, my eyes burning with furious resolve. “This isn’t justice, it’s cruelty!” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Ignoring my comment, he gave a final nod. The whip came down with a sharp thwack, its impact sending a jolt of pain through my back. I clenched my teeth, refusing to give them thesatisfaction of hearing me cry out. Each subsequent strike was a test of my will.
Through the haze of pain, I caught glimpses of the blue sky above and the neatly trimmed hedges that surrounded me—a surreal backdrop to the brutality I was being forced to endure. The contrast between the serene setting and the violent act was disorienting, each lash a stark reminder of the harsh realities of the world into which I had been thrust.
Despite the overwhelming urge to break down, I held onto my defiance, each breath a silent vow of resistance. The punishment would end, but my resolve to survive and fight back would not be so easily extinguished.
Sweat trickled down my face and warm blood spilled down my back; I lost count of how many lashes I’d received. Black speckles edged my vision and I started to lose consciousness. How much longer would this ordeal continue? Did he plan to kill me? Would Damien come and save me? What about Klaus?
When did I start thinking I needed a savior?
Hell, I wasn’t too proud to admit I sort of needed one right about now.
I flinched with each strike until the skin of my back was numb from the pain. Then I just laid there with my face pressed against the scratchy board, gazing at the blue sky and trying to pretend I was anywhere but here. Looking at Lord Zacharia would only tarnish the memories of my real father, so I kept my eyes off his awful form.
“Father, stop!” When I heard Jacob’s shout, I sighed in relief, thankful someone had come to rescue me. “Father, please!”
The flogging paused for a moment. I heard the servants’ heavy breathing from their exertions hitting me.
“Last night was not her fault, Father!” Jacob pleaded. “Prince Julian assaulted her! While I know we are not allowed to lay afinger on royalty, what was she supposed to do, Father? Let him take her innocence?”
I snorted, but it sounded like more of a rasping cough because I was fairly certain I was dying on that plank. Innocent? Me? Even Arya had long since lost her innocence. But I wasn’t about to burst anyone’s bubble.
“She should have asked for help,” Lord Zacharia stiffly countered.
“How?” Jacob asked. “How could she? No one would dare go against a prince, much less a Drakonar, which you well know! Punishing her isn’t right, Father. You have always been partial to Arya, but since returning home I’ve seen a marked difference. What changed?”
I craned my head slightly and saw Gianna leaning against a column, watching from a distance with a satisfied smirk. She was clearly enjoying my punishment. Maybe Lord Zacharia’s sudden indifference toward Arya had something to do with Gianna. She had a way of convincing people, that was for sure. And it didn’t help that Arya was a fuckin’ she-devil. Arya’s bad reputation would be the death of me.
I chuckled painfully and winced from the movement. “It seems,” I croaked, “that our dear father has anewfavorite daughter.” I tilted my head toward Gianna.
“Arya!” Lord Zacharia gasped as if he couldn’t believe what I just said.
“Don’t bother, Jacob,” I muttered. “If this was their plan, they’ll find whatever excuse they can to beat me.”
“What?” Jacob murmured. “Is this true, Father?”
“No! It is not! Howdareyou make such assumptions, Arya!” Lord Zacharia shouted. “Get her up!” he commanded the servants. Two of them lifted me off the plank and my head lolled forward, unable to support its weight. “Take her to her room.She is not to leave her room unless I say so!” the lord of the house commanded.
“She needs a healer!” Jacob demanded.
I lifted my head just in time to see Lord Zacharia nod in agreement, then the two servants dragged me toward my room. I passed out before we got there.
17
CAT
Ilay on my bed face down as Maeve used a pair of scissors to cut away the back of my dress, which was glued to the weeping lashes crisscrossed over my flesh. Jacob turned his back to us so he wouldn’t see my exposed skin, but he refused to leave my room until he knew the extent of the damage.
Trying to control my racing heart and the pain that still coursed through me was difficult, and I breathed in through my mouth and out through my nose in a steady, deep rhythm. Some of the blood had dried and stuck to my clothes, so with each pull, I groaned and fought the urge to scream. Maeve paused and winced every time.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” I gasped, out of breath. “It’s okay,” I repeated. “It’s not your fault.”
