Chapter 82 I plead not guilty!
Soldiers surrounded me, bringing me to my knees. My arms rested on my stomach, as if fighting to protect the child from their reach.
"Do you plead guilty, Concubine Amarien!" Argo said, with an air of self-importance and satisfaction.
I looked around the crowd of Concubines who watched in glee and satisfaction as I was about to come to my end. I felt my baby kick. I knew he, too, was frightened.
"I plead not guilty!" My voice blazed through the morning air. The concubines looked at me with disbelief as I rose to my feet, anger in my eyes.
"All I did was to protect my child from the forces wages against him. Kill me by all means, but do not hurt the child. For this child will grow to be a might force to contend with. He will tear down the enemies of his mother and bring them to ruin. He will avenge me in death!"
Argo struck my face, sending me crashing back into the earth.
"You think you'll live again?" She said with poisonous irritation.
"My sufferings won't be overlooked. I'll avenge it all on every one of you!" I screeched, but Argos kicked at me, making me groan.
"We'll see about that." Her gaze shot up, "Concubines, ready your whips, and I say to you do not hold back till this curse is completely purged from our midst!"
Every Concubine has a whip, and they looked at me with the eerie intensity of demons. I clutched my baby closer.
"Today! We send her packing to hell where she belongs!"
The Concubines gave a loud cheer and rushed up to be in one accord, whipping and hitting me with the force of hatred and venom in their blood.
The first whip tore the air before it touched me.
The sound alone made me flinch: a sharp crack like bone snapping. Then pain exploded across my back, so fierce it stole my breath entirely. I screamed, the sound ripping out of me without permission, raw and animal, as my body jerked forward.
Another strike followed immediately.
Then another,
Then, in one accord, multiple lashes came into my back.
My skin burned, split, screamed. I felt warmth slide down my spine. It was blood, I realized distantly, soaking through the thin fabric of my robe until it clung to me like a second, ruined skin.
I collapsed forward onto my hands, the stone courtyard cold beneath my palms.
“Get up!" someone shouted.
The whip answered instead.
It struck my shoulder, my ribs, my back, wherever there was skin to tear.
The concubines did not strike in rhythm. There was no mercy in order. They whipped like frenzied creatures, hatred guiding their arms, delight sharpening their blows.
I screamed again.
And again.
Each cry felt torn from deeper inside me, until my throat burned raw and my voice cracked into hoarse sobs. I tasted blood. Had I bitten my tongue, or was it rising from my lungs? I couldn't tell.
Pain became everything.
It swallowed thought, memory, time.
My body shook violently, muscles spasming as the strikes rained down. I tried to curl inward, tried to protect myself, but my arms refused to leave my stomach. Even as my strength drained, even as my vision blurred, my hands clutched my belly with desperate ferocity.
Stay, I begged silently. Please stay.
The baby kicked.
A weak flutter, frightened and frantic.
That broke something in me.
"Stop!" a voice screamed from somewhere beyond the circle. "Please...stop! That child..."
I recognized Orgah's voice through the haze, shrill with terror.
"That child is the emperor's!" she cried. "It's Daevir's child! You can't..."
A whip cracked louder than the rest.
Her scream cut off abruptly.
They didn't stop.
They never even hesitated.
The blows continued, unbroken, relentless, until pain blurred into something worse. It dulled.
That was when I knew I was dying.
The fire faded into a deep, spreading cold. My body felt distant, unreal, as though it no longer belonged to me. I couldn't feel where the whips landed anymore. Only the dull thud of impact, the echo of sound.
My breathing turned shallow. Each inhale was a struggle. Each exhale rattled.
This is it, I thought dimly.
This is how it ends.
I would die here, on dirt, surrounded by women who smiled as they destroyed me. My child would die with me, torn apart by hatred before he ever saw the sky.
Tears slid silently from my eyes, streaking the dust beneath my face.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to my stomach. "I'm so sorry.”
My hands trembled but did not loosen.
The world began to change.
The courtyard blurred, edges softening as if smeared by unseen fingers. The cries of the concubines faded into a distant roar, like waves crashing far away. The sky above darkened...not with clouds, but with something deeper, heavier.
Then I saw her.
Grandma Chichi stood just beyond the circle.
She looked as she always had in my childhood dreams, wrapped in white, her hair braided neatly, her eyes warm and sorrowful. She did not smile. She only watched me with unbearable gentleness.
It's time, her gaze seemed to say.
I sobbed once, soundless.
The whips slowed.
One stopped.
Then another.
Then. It stopped.
The sudden absence of pain was so abrupt it felt wrong, like the world had snapped in half. The air grew unnaturally still. Even the concubines froze mid-motion, arms raised, breath held.
A shadow fell across the courtyard.
Heavy.
Commanding.
Boots struck stone.
Slow. Measured.
The concubines parted instinctively, fear rippling through them like a living thing.
I lifted my head weakly.
A tall shadow stepped into view, draped in a wolf-fur coat that brushed the ground behind him. His presence swallowed the light, his silhouette stark against the sky. Dark hair framed a face carved from arrogance and power. Blue eyes glinting with something ancient and dangerous.
Theron!
Silence crushed the courtyard.
Even Argos had gone pale.
The whips slipped from trembling hands and struck the ground uselessly.
The world teetered on the edge of black. Yet, I sagged forward. But the baby moved again; faint, stubborn, alive.
And I clung to that sensation for dear life…I won't die till this baby lives.