CHAPTER 15 - Punishment
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Talia knelt at the center of it all, her frail figure trembling as tears streaked her cheeks. Her mousy brown hair hung in damp, disheveled strands, and her faded green dress crumpled around her.
My hand clenched tightly around Raincatcher's hilt at the sight before me. I sheathed my dagger at my waist to stop myself from committing treason.
Three shadows loomed over the frightened girl — the Nightshades. At their forefront stood Isolde Flarewyn. A black cloak lined with gleaming bronze draped over her shoulders, mirroring the opulence of her gown.
"I will not allow His Majesty to be so brazenly insulted," she sneered, green eyes narrowed.
"The only insult here is you!" Virella's voice rang out. She stepped between the Nightshades and Talia, a lioness shielding her cub.
"And how, pray tell, is Lady Isolde to blame?" another Nightshade asked mockingly.
Bronwyn Blacksteel stood nearby, a whip already in hand, and black eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. Her gown billowed around her, dark and fluid, while golden plates were artfully incorporated as both armor and ornament.
She had been a formidable foe in my first life, a woman whose knightly lineage lent her brute strength and a talent for warfare.
Yet, she was also the easiest to overthrow among the three — the woman I replaced as Nightshade in my first life.
Virella squared her shoulders.
"Shall I list Lady Isolde's transgressions in alphabetical order?" she retorted.
I stepped into the fray before Virella's words could turn too sharp.
"You're all overstepping your authority," I called out.
All three Nightshades turned to face me.
Cerys Palewynd, the silent specter among them, regarded me with empty blue eyes.
"With the emperor gone," she said, her voice as soft as snow, "the Nightshades hold the highest authority. Lady Talia is accused of conspiring against His Majesty."
I surveyed the scene carefully. Though Talia cried her eyes out, there were no marks on her. The Nightshades had no proof... yet. If they did, Talia would already be bleeding.
"And what exactly has she done?" I asked.
Isolde tossed a handkerchief at my feet, its edges fluttering like a dead leaf. The embroidered unicorn in its center was unmistakable.
"She dared to stitch this," Isolde spat, her tone venomous.
I stared down at the cloth, my mind working to find the supposed crime, but it eluded me. The unicorn, pure and white amidst a tapestry of wildflowers, was flawless. If anything, my mutilated canary was a greater act of treason.
Isolde's lips twisted into a predatory smile.
"The crest of Flynmoore's fallen kingdom, stitched so brazenly," she sneered, turning to Talia as if ready to devour her. "Tell me, Lady Talia, did you think we wouldn't notice your little tribute to your rebellious forebears?"
Talia's voice broke as she sobbed.
"I never intended to resemble Flynmoore's crest. It's just a unicorn..."
"Just a unicorn?" Bronwyn mocked, coiling the whip around her hand like a promise. "You dare claim innocence?"
Virella's laugh rang coldly through the clearing.
"I suppose growing up in a family of brothers has left certain gaps in your education, Lady Bronwyn," she interjected, toying with a curly lock of hair.
"Flynmoore's crest featured a golden unicorn, not a white one.
Unless... is it perhaps not your education that's lacking, but your eyesight?
You are rather seasoned for a concubine, after all. "
Bronwyn's grip on the whip tightened, but before she could speak, I took my turn.
"The white unicorn is a symbol of the Celestial Mare," I pointed out. "Talia thoughtfully stitched it as a token of good luck for His Majesty's hunt."
"What a convenient tale," Isolde said.
I narrowed my eyes.
"What did you stitch for His Majesty?"
"A red snake," she replied, her smile stretching wide.
"Fitting," I scoffed, stepping closer. "Though isn't it the symbol of another land?
Bludverdii has a crimson serpent crest, if I'm not mistaken.
You have ties to that queendom, do you not?
Your red hair is proof enough. And while the emperor has yet to conquer the southern lands, I imagine the Bludverdii queendom would be no exception to his ambitions. "
Isolde's grin only widened, triumph glinting in her green eyes.
"Perhaps if His Majesty favored you, Princess, you would understand," she giggled. "His mother, the first Empress, was from Bludverdii. Just as I. This handkerchief was to honor her."
I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat.
Sylvos had never spoken to me of his mother. I knew little of her, only whispers and rumors. After her untimely death, a princess of Flynmoore replaced her as empress.
I forced the unease from my expression.
"Well, since it seems matters have been cleared up, you'll excuse us as Lady Talia and I return to the Clover tent. The journey here has left me... rather weary."
I moved toward my trembling friend, but Cerys' soft voice cut through the silence, sharp and precise.
"We are gathered because of rumors of her conspiring against His Majesty," she said, her eyes devoid of light. "Not a handkerchief."
"What rumors?" I asked, my voice steady despite the sudden chill creeping up my spine.
Cerys' eyes flickered to something behind me, and my blood turned to frost as I turned to follow her gaze.
"We found something," one of the guards announced, striding forward. They knelt, presenting a small, weathered sack to Isolde.
The red-haired woman grinned, her fingers brushing over the sack before she peered inside.
"There's your proof," she laughed, tossing the sack to me with cruel ease.
I caught it, my hands steady even as dread coiled in my stomach. I opened the bag and stared inside. Thinly diced mushrooms, their dark caps glistening.
"A servant saw her picking mushrooms in the woods yesterday," Bronwyn spoke up, flicking her dark braid over her shoulder. "We have reason to believe she would use them to poison His Majesty as revenge for her treacherous bloodline."
Are they truly this foolish?
"His Majesty is—" I cut myself off, my throat tightening.
I had almost told them Sylvos was immune to poison. This had only come to light later in my life. At this point, the harem wasn't aware of that fact. If I revealed it now... it would make me look incredibly suspicious.
I glanced at Raincatcher by my side, wondering if I had wasted one of my lives for such a secret.
"His Majesty is... someone who listens to reason," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "I'm sure Lady Talia could explain herself, if given the chance."
The crowd turned, all eyes now on the frail woman, her sobs still echoing in the air.
"They aren't poisonous," she gasped, looking up. "They're a common snack from Flynmoore... They're all over these woods. I was feeding the birds this morning..."
I crossed my arms, turning to the nightshades.
"See? A reasonable explanation."
"If it's not poisonous, Lady Talia..." Cerys' voice was a whisper, but it carried through the crowd like a death sentence. "Then eat it."
A warning pounded in my chest.
"Of course!" Talia said. "I can prove they are harmless!"
My blood froze.
A guard moved to take the sack from me, but I angled it away from him, my grip tightening. I could feel Cerys' eyes on me — indifferent and cold.
Then... So briefly it might not have been real at all... A small, unsettling smile touched the corner of the pale woman's lips.
It made every hair on my body stand on end.
I glanced down at the mushrooms again, my mind spinning. I remembered Talia feeding the birds this morning — those mushrooms had been dark brown. And these... these were brown, but with a redder tint. And more importantly, they glistened... Too fresh to have been gathered yesterday.
My heart dropped.
The mushrooms have been switched, I realized with sudden clarity.
But Talia already confessed to owning these mushrooms... and there had been witnesses.
If I handed her this bag now, she would see the difference and try to explain that. But nobody would believe her. They'd think she was only scared of consuming the poison. Either that or she would realize her position and take her chances by eating it anyways.
Deny to eat and face the death penalty... or eat and die regardless...
Her options were both dead ends.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
Talia had no second chances. If she died here, there would be no saving her.
But for me, this... this was a risk I could take. I could survive and save my friend. Or I could succumb and try again.
"I'll eat them," I said as I drew a piece from the bag and brought it to my lips.
The Nightshades grinned like they won.
"Very well, be on with it," Isolde said, her voice honeyed with malice. "And do make sure to swallow. I'll check if you don't."
"Raine, they're harmless," Talia assured, her voice trembling but earnest. "I had some myself. Don't worry."
I glanced at her, a soft smile playing on my lips.
Poor, naive girl... This harem will devour someone like you whole.
Just like it did me.
I bit into the mushroom.
Its bitter, dry texture scraped against my tongue, and I forced it down, swallowing hard to keep the bile down. The second bite was worse — a faint burn accompanied by an acrid aftertaste. A wave of dizziness crept in, subtle but insidious, wrapping its tendrils around my thoughts.
My hands began to tremble, and I curled them into fists, nails digging into my palms. I steadied myself with sheer force of will, schooling my face into calm indifference.
Poison, no doubt...
"Harmless," I said, not an ounce of concern on my face. "Satisfied?"
Isolde's lips curled in a smug smile.
"Not quite. If you're unaffected, then we'll know Lady Talia isn't guilty of conspiring against His Majesty. But if you start showing symptoms..." She trailed off, her voice low and ominous. "Then we'll have our proof."
Bronwyn barked a command, and the guards grabbed my arms before I could respond. I twisted weakly in their grasp, but the poison was sapping my strength. The ground beneath me tilted slightly, and I gritted my teeth to keep from collapsing outright. I couldn't let them see how weak I felt.
"You'll remain tied where we can watch you," Isolde declared, gesturing toward one of the wooden posts standing ominously nearby. "If you falter, we'll petition for Lady Talia's immediate execution."
"That's absurd!" Virella snapped, stepping forward. "If His Majesty were here—"
"But he isn't," Cerys interrupted, her voice soft and detached. "And we are."
The guards dragged me to the post, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my head from lolling. Blood pooled on my tongue, sharp and metallic, but it kept me present. They tied me tightly, the rough rope biting into my skin.
"It's fine, Lady Virella," I said, remaining composed despite the way my stomach started burning. "Before long, I shall walk free of this with nothing but aching wrists."
"Yes, Lady Virella," Isolde mocked. "Instead of the Princess, start praying for Lady Talia. Guards, tie her as well."
My eyes widened.
"Let her go!" I snapped. "Nothing has been proven!"
Talia's cries came weak and broken as they dragged her forward. Her thin wrists were bound against the rough wooden post beside mine, the rope biting into her flesh.
Bronwyn stepped forward, her whip uncoiling like a viper, the leather slithering against the ground while its golden pommel glinted in the sunlight.
"Please, please, I didn't—"
Talia's desperate sobs were silenced as the first crack of the whip split the air. It struck her back with a sickening snap, her cry shattering like glass across the camp.
"Enough pleading," Bronwyn laughed. "This is merely punishment for your family's treason."
Virella lunged forward, but the guards seized her, holding her back.
"You'll all regret this!" she growled, her voice trembling with barely restrained wrath. "This punishment exceeds your authority. When His Majesty hears of this—"
"When His Majesty hears of this," Isolde interrupted, her tone smooth and confident, "he'll thank us for rooting out treachery in his court. You believe he'd offer a kinder fate? Then you're more naive than I thought."
The weight of her words struck me like a blow. Deep down, I knew she spoke the truth.
After all, there was no mercy shown to me either.
Not in any life.
Virella wrenched herself free of the guards, her glare burning like molten steel.
"Go on then," she hissed. "But I'll remember every lash, every scream. And I'll ensure each one is repaid in kind."
The whip cracked again, carving another crimson stripe into Talia's trembling back. Her torn dress hung in tatters, the green fabric falling away to expose raw, bloodied skin. Her agonized cries tore through the clearing, each one clawing at my soul.
My fingers dug into the splintered wood of my own post, nails breaking against the rough surface. This fury was the only thing keeping me grounded as poison sapped my strength, my vision swimming.
If I showed sickness now... Talia was as good as dead.
Bronwyn struck again, and I bit down hard on my lip. I wanted to scream, to fight, to rip them apart.
But I was powerless here.
Just like I had been in my first life.
Nothing had changed. Nothing at all.
I closed my eyes against the horror, letting the storm inside me rage as I made a vow.
Before this is over... Before Sylvos crumbles with his empire... I will make the Nightshades pay. Isolde. Bronwyn. Cerys. All of them. I'd carve their suffering tenfold for this.
When I opened my eyes, they lifted to the sky. A vulture circled high above, its black wings cutting through the haze like an omen of death. I fixed my gaze on the bird as Talia's screams tore through me — each one another nail driven into the coffin of my restraint.
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Hours bled into darkness, and nightfall settled over the camp.
Lanterns flickered weakly among the tents, their light casting long, wavering shadows. The music was subdued, each note hesitant while laughter echoed brittle and hollow. Ever since the screams had stopped, the air had felt haunted.
I clung to consciousness with grim determination, afraid that I would vomit in my sleep.
A clammy sweat clung to my brow, the chill sinking deep into my bones.
The feverish ache I had endured before seemed merciful compared to this.
Every breath was a struggle, every swallow a desperate attempt to keep the bile at bay.
But it was getting harder. My pulse faltered, each beat growing weaker.
After surviving the vylnir, was this how it would end?
Death by poison?
Poison I ate knowingly, no less.
A bitter laugh escaped my chapped lips, rasping like the scrape of metal on stone.
What else could I do? Let my friend die?
If I just had a bit more authority, maybe the outcome would've been different... But I was no one here. Just a Clover.
"Rainey... Please..." Ryn's voice reached me from nearby, his desperation cutting through the fog clouding my mind. "Admit it's poison and get a cure. For once, stop being so stubborn."
I couldn't see him, but his voice had been my tether to reality through these hours of damnation. My gaze drifted upward, and a grim smile pulled at my lips as I caught sight of the vulture still circling above.
Was it waiting for me to fall? Sensing the last feeble beats of my heart?
"Please, Rainey." Ryn's voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Fight for this life. I'm begging you... fight. I can't help you again. This is it. I swear."
I shook my head faintly, my voice silenced by the guards lingering nearby.
I wished I could see him. Was he crouched beside me? Was he holding me? What color were those strange eyes this time? A furious green? A somber blue? Or perhaps that rare shade of violet?
My breath came out ragged while I forced my head to turn. Tears burned hot down my cheeks as my gaze fell on Talia. Her fragile form hung limp against the post, her bloodied back a grotesque canvas of torn flesh. The shredded remnants of her dress clung to her like a cruel afterthought.
Some of her blood had splattered onto me during her hundred lashes. Blood that would probably never wash away.
"Are you even alive, Talia?" I whispered hoarsely.
I had called her name earlier, but no answer came. Her silence echoed louder than her screams had.
My thoughts drifted to Virella. She had been dragged away hours ago, her fate as uncertain as our own. I could only hope she was safe, that her fiery resolve had kept her from sharing in this horror.
Just as my head lolled forward, ready to betray me, a sudden commotion shattered the oppressive quiet. The camp stirred, voices rising, and I weakly lifted my head to see the crowd moving toward the clearing's edge like a wave drawn to the shore.
I craned my neck, my strength failing, but caught a fleeting glimpse of Emperor Sylvos astride his steed.
He was here...
Whether to be my saving grace or my undoing, I had no idea.
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