Page 89 of Vicious Princess
“You can’t solve every insult with blood,” Dad said with a disappointed sigh.
I was maybe ten. Blood on my knuckles. The older girl I’d fought had been twice my size, but I’d knocked her flat.
Mom crouched beside me. “If your anger drives you, it’ll destroy you.”
I shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter.
Dad said, “This is serious, Phoenix. If you can’t control your temper, someone else will control it for you. You won’t like how that ends.”
My foul temper finally caught up with me.
To my surprise, Ezkai Gavriel doesn’t take us to the administration. Instead, he takes us towards a dark stone stairway that leads somewhere into the basement. A couple of times, we almost slip on the moist stone, but Ezkai Gavriel keeps us upright.
At the bottom of the first staircase, he takes the left turn into a narrow, dimly lit corridor that has four iron doors on each side. Finally, his steps halt, and we can catch a breath.
“Time for another valuable lesson,” he says, voice cold. “Whenever an Ezkai disobeys one of the Ezkai laws we swearto follow once we join the Order, they don’t get expelled or executed. They are brought here to be taught a lesson. Solitary confinement for an extended period of time is often enough to correct any behavior and turn a rebel into a duty-bound soldier once again. You see, once you join the Order, it’s for life. You two have the pleasure to experience it before you even get the chance to join the Order.”
My heart drops when he lets go of my neck.
The instructor opens the first door and turns to me. Inside the cell, it’s dark. Not a single window or piece of furniture. Only a copper chamber pot in the corner.
“Not so brave anymore, Wildarrow? All the laughs and anger gone?” Ezkai Gavriel mocks me.
I swallow the ball in my throat, lift my chin, and brace myself for the punishment.
Only when the door of my solitary cell closes behind my back and I’m enveloped by cold darkness do I let myself fall apart.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Darkness swallows me whole.
No bed. No warmth. No light.
I sit. I wait.
First, I count heartbeats.
Then breaths.
Then hours.
Then nothing.
My skin itches like it’s trying to peel itself off. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood just to feel something.
Silence settles like dust on my chest.
And thentheycome.
Not Ezkai Gavriel. Not the Order.
Them.
Dad’s face, slack in death. Blood spreading across his tunic like spilled wine. A blade in my hand.
My sisters scream as the blade I hold goes in.
Their eyes are wide. Not with pain—with confusion.
