Defiant Surrogate 13
"Guande" Veronica calls, her voice shrill.
At once, a set of guards rush down the hallway toward us, their tiles in their hand. One has a sword tied to his belt. Another, a whip.
Veronica continues to glare at me, even as a smug smile curves her lips. Pointing straight at me, she commands. This slave has offended me. I demand retribution. Take her out and torture her for this insolence" Her arrogance makes her laugh until she realizes that the guards aren't making any moves against me.
I'm still holding Caleb's coffee. Glancing down at it, I say, "King Caleb ordered this from me. I should deliver it."
Veronica smacks the mug straight out of my hand. It smashes into the wall and then drips down to the ground. That's the second mug today. I silently apologize to whoever has to clean that up
Looking back at Veronica, I now see her for the bully she truly i With none of the guards moving against me, I feel emboldened, maybe more than I should be.
"I'll need to get more now." I start to turn.
See how she mocks me!" Veronica blares. "Do something already, gods dammit!"
One of the guards, a younger man will acne on his chin steps forward. He's slighter than the other guards, but his gun makes ne stop in my tracks. He's still much taller than me.
To the other guards, he says, "I saw this slave arguing with the King earlier. She's likely fallen out of favor..."
"She never had any favor," Veronica snaps. "Take her to the whipping post. I want to see her pretty back riddled with blood."
"At once, ma'am," the young guard says. Stepping forward, he shoulders his gun, but grabs me roughly. His gloves have metal claws on the ends. The tips cut into my skin, keeping me from running, but not from struggling.
I really don't want to be whipped.
The guard, young as he is, is still stronger than me. He drags me along without much effort.
The other guards do not move an inch, not helping, but not stopping this either.
"Cowards" Veronica scoffs at them. She follows along behind the young guard and me.
The guard drags me through some hallways I've never been and then out a doorway into the outside. I squeeze my eyes shut, the sudden sunshine burning my eyes. At the same time, I fiercely shiver, the biting winter cold prickling into all of my bare skin.
The sidewalk by the door is uneven. Given my blindness, I can't see the step and stumble. The guard continues holding me. though he makes no effort to save me from falling.
I do, knocking my head off the sidewalk. I must have scraped it. Blood starts dripping down the side of my face.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
Behind us, Veronica laughs. "Do it again. Throw her to the ground."
The guard doesn't. He just keeps moving forward, dragging me along. Eventually, we reach a pit in the courtyard. There's sand on the ground, with a few raised pillars jutting up like the devil's fingers from the dirt. Chains dangle from the each of the pillars.
tops
of
The guard drags me into the pit then unceremoniously throws me down into the dirt. I roll, collecting sand in unseemly
places My may up drags cathing on a rock and breaks free
Immediately. I try to cover myself. I don't know how many people on me exposed.
Looking around, I can see we are gathering quite the crowd. Gods, servants, slaves, and harem members all stop to peer into the p and to me, low and pitiful, dirty on the ground
"Chain her to a pillar, Veronica says. "Someone bring me a whip Looking around, she seems pleased by the gatherin
look your fill, everyone. See what happens to the slave that dares disrespect the King's favorite
I want to scream from the top of my lungs that I never had any balzy with Caleb or anyone else, but at this point, I doubt would do any good Veronica would likely see it as a sign of my continued insolence.
Not wanting to be whipped, though, I have to think of another way to save myself
I search over the crowd, looking for any sympathetic face. I find nothing but dispassion, boredom, and worse still excitement. For some, this is entertainment.
I shiver again, this time not just from the cold. What kind of hell have I found myself take to, where public torture and mockery makes for an afternoon's viewing pleasure?
Tears well in my eyes. I want to go home. I want Samuel and his arms. I'd even take the way things were, compared to this. Give me my attic, and my terrible sister.
I've been whipped before, beaten. But never in public. Never like this.
on shaky legs. I push myself upright. If she wants to whip me, she's going to have to overpower me first. I'm not going to willingly turn my back.
Because I'm facing her, she cannot see before I do, when Caleb and Tristan step out into the courtyard. She has no way of knowing how his gaze sweeps over the view, how it snags on me, topless and dirty, and how it narrows then on her. She continues to smirk at me, smug and overconfident, thinking she's having her way.
Everyone else sees though. Silence falls upon the crowd.
Veronica, thinking her the champion in some great play, demands again, "Someone bring me a whip. How many lashes does this carn? Should we go by applause?"
"What," Caleb says sharply, "do you think you are doing?"
Veronica's face pales and she spins around. "M-my King!" Veronica lowers her head in reverence.
Caleb glares down at her. Tristan stands a few feet back, his hand on the hilt of the blade tied to his hip.
"I ask once more, and only once more," Caleb says, "What do you think you are doing here?"
"T-this slave, my King-"Veronica motions toward me. "She insulted me... and then I hurt my hand when I slapped her. She needs to be punished..."
"You slapped her?" Caleb asks.
"She insulted me, Veronica says.
Caleb looks over to me. I feel the weight of his gaze on my head wound, then at my nakedness. I tighten my arms around myself, very aware of all the eyes on me. "You've always given me permission to punish the slaves..." Veronica says. "It's been within my rights.
"It was never your right" Galeb says, his voice as icy cold as the chill winter air. "Ever did I turn my head away out of my favor of you. That is no longer the case"
Veronica startles. Her head tilts up, reverence be damned. "My King?" There's panic in her voice.
"Beta, Caleb says, calling Tristan forth. Tristan immediately step forward to the side of his king. "Remove the name of this refuse from my harem records. Make known that she is no longer favored in my house." Tristan bows his head. "At once, my King."
Sensing his duty is done. Tristan backs up a few steps.
Caleb lifts his head, looking across the gathered crowd, then at the, where fresh fire ignites in his eyes. Then, his gave finds its way back to Veronica.
He holds his hand to the side. "Someone bring me a whip