Page 77 of Frozen Hearts and Death Magic

He pulled her hand, then pressed something hot on it. A butter knife. It was getting hotter and hotter—and burning her.

Leah felt Venard restraining her other hand. She tried to pull the hand being burned, but the prince’s grip was too strong.

“Stop! Please!”

Celia glared at her. “Say what you did.”

“No—” She couldn’t stand the pain anymore. “I wrote a code. Stop.”

The woman nodded to Cassius, who removed the knife, but kept holding her hand. She needed to put something cold on it, as she felt it burning.

“What code?” the woman asked.

Leah felt the knife close to her skin. “Slightly bigger letters. I just want to go home, that’s all.” Tears were pricking down her eyes. Tears for the pain, for the hope lost, for her fear, and yet she was trying to hold them back. “Let me put something cold on my hand.”

Celia frowned. “Oh. You think you can demand anything?”

“Please!”

The woman now eyed her with disgust. “Girl. You don’t get to ask anything. And you don’t get to choose where to go. You’re married now. Your choices are no longer your own.”

Leah kept her face neutral, as if she were indeed listening and paying attention, as if any of that made any sense.

Celia then looked at the note carefully. No, no, no. Now Leah would never again be able to use that code for her parents. The woman shook her head. “I’m in danger? Danger of what? You’re being well treated here. You must have been really spoiled if you can’t stand some mild scolding. You want to upset your parents, is that what you want? You want to break our alliance? Do you realize what it would entail? Or are you still a little child, unaware of your responsibilities?”

Anger. So much anger bubbling up inside her. And yet anything she did would only make them hurt her even more. “I meant no offense.”

“No offense! You wanted to lie to your parents that you’re being mistreated. For what? Missing your dolls?”

“Missing not being burned.”

“Cassius.”

Oh, no. He pressed the knife against the back of her wrist. It didn’t burn as much yet.

“Will you hold your tongue?” Celia asked.

“Yes.”

The woman nodded, and the prince lifted the knife.

The woman shook her head. “Just a little scolding. You know why? To put you in line. To make you a good wife, a good queen, a good mother.”

Oh, yes, being inflicted physical punishment would make her a wonderful mother. But they wanted her to be humble, so she was going to act humble. “I understand.”

“Do you? Really?”

“Yes. I’m starting to understand.”

“Let’s hope that’s the case. I think you need to cool off a little. Guards!” The two men walked in. “Escort her to the calming room.” She turned to Cassius. “Take her.”

Leah didn’t resist or complain or anything. They grabbed her two arms, blindfolded her, and took her away. Her hand was throbbing. She felt that they took the lifting cage again, and descended—a lot. When the blindfold was removed, she was in a room with white walls, floor, and ceiling, some faint sunlight coming from a small, high, round window.

They closed the door and left her there. Alone. This was some kind of cell. Not as bad as she had expected. Nowhere to sit or lie down other than the floor, but at least she wasn’t anywhere near those princes or that woman. Those princes. Her dear husband and alleged “friend” hadn’t said a word during the whole ordeal. He’d probably have burned her hand had his grandmother asked him to. Leah wished she could tell that to her mother, tell her that it wasn’t always possible to make it work.

But more than yelling at her mother, she wanted to see her again, wanted a hug. Leah had to return home. The issue was how. It wasn’t going to be easy. But there had to be a way.

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