Chapter 368: Cruelty Behind Closed Doors

Content Warning: This Chapter contains scenes of physical and emotional abuse, including threats of harm and violence.

Chapter 367: Cruelty Behind Closed Doors

Lyria’s POV

"That would not be sufficient punishment," the Queen said, her voice carrying a note of quiet satisfaction.

Jacinta’s eyes brightened. I was quite certain she had been waiting for precisely those words.

"We should also ensure that the spawn’s mother receives no treatment for the entire week," she suggested.

My breath caught.

My hands began to tremble.

I tried to stop them, curling my fingers into fists at my sides, but the shaking only travelled further up my arms. I could feel it in my shoulders now, betraying the terror I was desperately trying to conceal.

The Queen watched me with a smile.

"That is true," she said. "It would certainly cause some considerable distress."

She paused, as though the thought genuinely required deliberation.

"However, a week seems rather inadequate. Two weeks seems more fitting."

I stared at her.

Two weeks.

My mother was already weak. She depended upon the treatment she received. Without it, even a few days could leave her exhausted and ill beyond recovery. Two weeks without her medicine. Two weeks without the herbs and treatment that kept her stable. Two weeks during which I would have no means to help her, no money to buy alternatives, no way to reach her without the risk of making things considerably worse.

I did not allow any of it to show on my face.

I could not.

The Queen reached out and placed two fingers beneath my chin.

I stiffened at once. The thought of removing those fingers by force filled me briefly and completely before I pushed it aside.

She tilted my face upward until I had no choice but to meet her eyes. Blue, like Lucian’s, yet entirely unlike his. His were warm. These were not.

"I also have a surprise for you," she said, and my stomach tightened further. "Though it shall come in two days’ time. I am quite certain you shall find it memorable."

I said nothing.

I could only imagine what the surprise might be. More punishment, perhaps. It would not be the first time something was dressed in pleasant language and delivered as a blow.

She released me.

I lowered my head immediately.

A maid approached with a fresh napkin, and the Queen accepted it without looking at the girl, wiping her fingers slowly and deliberately, as though the act of touching me had left something unpleasant upon her hand.

Then she tossed the napkin toward me.

It landed at my feet.

"I should very much like to punish you physically," she said, almost thoughtfully, as though she were considering the merits of a particular wine. "Though I know well enough that such punishments do not wound you nearly as deeply as those inflicted upon your mother."

My hands curled tighter in the folds of my gown.

"But even so—"

The doors opened.

Elara stepped into the chamber.

I frowned.

She had not been summoned with me. There was no reason for her to be here, no instruction that would have brought her to this room at this hour. I had barely begun to form the thought when the Queen moved.

She crossed the distance between herself and Elara in several measured steps.

Then she struck her.

The sound cracked through the chamber.

My eyes widened.

Elara staggered half a step, her head dropping low.

The Queen struck her again.

And again.

And again.

Each blow was delivered with frightening precision, the sharp sound of it echoing against the walls and the ceiling and the polished floor.

I stood frozen.

I could barely breathe.

Elara did not raise her hands to defend herself. She did not step back. She did not make a sound. One did not oppose the Queen. One did not defend oneself when the Queen chose to deliver punishment. Those were simply the rules of this palace, understood by everyone within it, spoken by no one.

She simply endured it.

The Queen finally stopped.

She flexed her fingers once, deliberately, then held out her hand without turning.

"Napkin."

A maid hurried forward at once.

The Queen wiped her palm with the same careful deliberateness she had shown before, then discarded the cloth without looking at where it fell — it landed on Elara, who did not flinch.

"Do your duty properly," the Queen said to her.

Elara lowered her head further.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Her voice was quiet and entirely composed.

Jacinta gave a soft chuckle from where she sat, watching the proceedings with the particular ease of someone who found others’ suffering a wholly agreeable way to pass the time.

The Queen returned to her seat.

She settled herself with the same unhurried grace she brought to everything, adjusted the fall of her sleeve, and then waved one hand.

"That will be all," she said. "Both of you may leave."

I bowed.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

I turned toward the doors.

Every step felt heavier than the last. My mind was still struggling to process what had occurred.

I reached the doors but then I heard a voice.

"Spawn." Jacinta said.

I stopped.

I turned, only slightly, and before I had fully completed the movement I felt something strike my shoulder.

Heat spread instantly through the fabric of my gown.

A cry escaped me before I could stop it.

Tea.

Scalding tea had soaked through the gown and burned the skin beneath it. I stumbled backward, clutching at the fabric, my breath coming short and fast against the pain.

"Surely you are fond of tea, are you not?" Jacinta asked pleasantly, laughter threading through her voice. "Hot tea especially. Why then are you in such a hurry to leave?"

I looked at her.

I kept my face blank even as my eyes stung and the burn spread across my shoulder and I wanted very badly to say several things I had no intention of saying aloud.

The Queen sighed faintly.

"That is quite enough, Your Highness."

Jacinta pouted.

"Yes, Mother."

She glanced down at the jug still in her hand, as though only just remembering it was there.

Then she released it.

The jug struck my feet and shattered against the floor, and the pain was immediate. I kept my expression where it was. I had already given them more than I wished to. I would not give them further satisfaction.

Jacinta looked at the broken pieces on the floor, then up at me.

"Oops," she said.

Her expression made it entirely clear the word was decorative.

She stepped closer, dropping her voice to just above a whisper.

"Next time," she said, "you will remember your place."

I bowed.

"Yes, Y-your Highness."

Jacinta smiled.

Then she stepped aside.

I turned toward the door and walked out quietly.

Elara, who had left before me, was waiting immediately outside. Her arm came around my waist at once and I leaned into her without a word as we began moving toward my chamber.