Page 16 of A Beautifully Crafted Lie

Four.

Five.

Dharlah swallows, looking away as she rises and walks out of the room. I’ve won.

Six…

I won’t let them break me. I won’t scream.

Losing count of the lashes dealt, I slump to the side as my strength fails me.

“Beg for forgiveness!” my governess commands, but I won’t. I refuse to give her the satisfaction. I won’t be made weak, not by them. I won’t break.

The next round of lashes fades in a blur, and the world around me is drowned in darkness. Everything turns black. Everything is quiet except for the rush of blood behind my ears, pounding in my head. And then it’s all gone.

NINE

BRYNDIS ASHGLO

Known to be one of the deadliest plants in existence, it is highly toxic and should be handled with care. In lower doses, Deadly Nightshade can sedate those who ingest it to an extent where inner turmoil settles.

The Herbal Healer’s Handbook by Agnes O’Connell

It hurts.

Every inch of my body hurts. Every piece of torn skin, every stiff muscle.

Hurts.

I don’t want to move, not even as an icy breeze blows over my body, nipping at my exposed skin. With my dress still pulled down around my hips, I feel cold, yet so numb inside that I don’t shiver. Instead, I remain on the floor, mourning my miserable existence. A warm tear spills from the inner corner of my eye and rolls over the bridge of my nose to flood the other. Next time, I’ll fight. Damn the repercussions. Next time…

Tick, tick, tick.

I ignore the sound.

A moment of silence passes.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tap, tap, tap.

Something knocks against my silver ring, sending vibrations up my index finger. Against my will, I force my eyes open. The room is dark, cast in shades of blue and black. Moonlight spears into my room from the open window.

Tap, tap, tap.

My eyes finally focus on a raven standing beside my hand. I pull away from its beak and wince. The movement is too sudden, too much. A burning, like fire across my skin, causes sweat to bead on my brow. Feathers rustle as three more ravens land beside their friend, sending four sideways glances my way.

“Go away,” I croak, tucking my hand underneath me and squeezing my eyes shut. I don’t have the energy to chase them away or the willpower to try. Their guttural rattles are like foreign gossip, bringing my blood to a boil.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tick, tick, tick.

Tick, tick, tick, and more wings flap. My room swims with the sound of wind whistling through feathers, blowing my hair from my face.

“Just bloody let me be!” I scream. Pain, deeper than flesh, tears its way through my chest, my throat, my stomach, pinning me to the floor. My lungs tighten. My breathing grows shallow. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!

“Go away!” I cry out, and it’s enough to break the walls holding my tears at bay. Like a crack in a dam, I allow white hot tears to stream down my face as I push myself upright to sit cross-legged beside my bed. Dried blood streaks my exposed ribs like war paint. My nipples bead under the caress of the cool breeze.