Page 12 of Ash and Roses

Confusion twists my face. “Which Marked? None have debts.”

This is the way it’s always been. For every Marked I spare, I’d take twenty lashes on their behalf. That was the cost of a Marked, and had been since the day I’d intervened with Jade’s execution when I was seven years old. I think the lashes were meant to deter me from interfering again, to teach me a lesson about the King’s authority, but I couldn’t bear to see another die on the post. In the last fifteen years, there have only been twelve successful executions, and most of those were because they occurred when I was confined to my bed, healing from another lashing. In all that time, forty-three people became Marked, and I’d received twenty lashes for each of them.

“A Marked has been freed. He may have saved your life, but there is a blood debt to be paid.”

So there was a cost to free a Marked, too. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. I want to ask if my life means so little to him, but with a whip in the Commander’s hand, this is far from the time to be mouthing off. Instead, I brace myself for the first blow. When it comes, I clench my fists tighter over the fabric of my dress and bite down hard on my lip. The Commander is skilled, and each new lash bites deeper into my flesh than the one before it as old scars split open. The nerves in my back sing a horrible tune that only I can hear, but my jaw remains shut. No cries will come from me this night because, if all the other lashings were justified, this one is not.

When it’s over, only a single tear escapes my eye and runs down a flushed cheek. “May I go, Father?” I pant, my voice not my own.

“You may.”

Someone moves to help me, but I shake off their hands and climb shakily to my feet. “I’m fine,” I snap. They can help me once I’m out of this room, but not a moment before.

My legs are shaky and staying upright is a challenge, but Gods willing, I will make it to that door. The maid walks alongside me, her hands hovering helplessly. She pulls the door open and I all but throw myself through it. As soon as I’m out of eyesight, my knees buckle and she has to catch me before I hit the floor.

“My Lady,” she says, and I feel the sudden urge to slap her for using the title. I don’t, of course, because not only is that misplaced anger, but I don’t have the strength.

“I’m fine,” I say again, though softer this time. “Help me to my room.”

The walk feels impossibly long, and when we finally reach the hall, I can hear Teagan’s sobs from within. I muster the strength to enter the room on my own and hobble to her side. She lies on her stomach, atop the very bed that led to her pain. I flop down beside her. This is nothing new to me, but it is for her.

“Teagan,” I breathe, taking her hand tightly in mine. Her face is tear-streaked and her eyes are red and unfocused. “I’m so sorry.”

“Abby,” she sobs in answer and squeezes my hand. I know what she’s feeling now. Not because I feel it too, but because I remember my first flogging. It’s a shock to realize that the worst pain is not the lashing itself, but the burning that comes after. Flesh is not meant to be torn, and the damaged nerves burn like fire held against the skin.

“It’ll be okay,” I assure her. “It will pass. Just try to breathe through it.” I take my own advice, because the fire is coming to life now atop my back as well. My nerves are not healed from the last time, so they will be extra angry tonight.

“How many did he give you?” She forces the words out through small gasps. She’s losing the battle to shock.

“That doesn’t matter. You need to slow your breathing.”

She takes a breath to placate me, but it gets caught in her throat. “How many?”

I sigh. Telling her won’t help, but neither will ignoring her. “Thirty. Ten for sneaking out, and twenty for Jade.”

She squeezes my hand tighter. “I didn’t… I didn’t know it was like this.” It’s hard for her to speak now, so I know the pain is reaching its peak. The girls around us move in a flurry to prepare the salve that will lessen the burning, but it takes time. Judging by the smells, I suspect there’s only a few minutes left before some relief will find us.

“Try not to think about it.”

Her face presses deep into the bedding. “It hurts.”

“I know. It will stop.”

I feel a hand touch one of my gashes, and the sudden burst of pain turns quickly to a faint stinging numbness. “Do her first,” I bark, shocked that the maids would start with me. Teagan is deeper in this than I am.

“My Lady, your lashes are worse and—”

“I don’t care! Do Teagan first!”

They must obey because, save for that one small spot, pain continues to radiate through me. After a few agonizing minutes, Teagan relaxes beside me. When the stinging coolness returns to my back, I loosen my grip on her and let myself sink into the bedding. It will be hard to sleep, if not impossible, but now is the best time to try. Soon, the numbing will wear off and the fire will return. I don’t know how Jade and the other Marked made it through lashings far worse than this. They would have been given no salves or tinctures to ease pain and speed healing. Those that managed to stave off infection would have suffered days in this condition with no one to hold their hands. At least Teagan was always there for me, and this time, I can be there for her.

CHAPTERSIX

ABBY

The following days were a blur of pain. Confined to my bed, with Teagan on a cot beside me, all we could do was lie on our stomachs and teeter between light sleep and agonizing wakefulness. Once our wounds had closed and only a stiff rawness remained, the blur turned to perpetual boredom. This was always the hardest part for me. I wasn’t made to be imprisoned behind stone walls, unable to even look out from a window. The longer I had to rest, the greater the anxiety grew within me. Most instances after a lashing, I would spend a week like this and relied on Teagan to tell me of the goings-on within the palace. I would lose myself in her stories and songs, and imagine myself living them.

But now? Teagan can’t be my lifeline. When she’d recovered enough to move around, she all but disappeared. The few times I had seen her, the smile on her face was forced and the light in her eyes had dimmed. Whatever spark had glowed so brightly within her has gone dark, and there’s no telling if she’ll ever recover from this. It’s been four days since I’ve seen her last. Of course I haven’t reported her absence to anyone, though I’m growing worried.

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