Chapter 152 It's Her Trap
The crowd fell silent, stunned. No one stepped forward to check on Flynn.
Only Cressida brushed off her dress, her expression untroubled.
Jason stood nearby, his square face set in a stern look. "Get up! You went down after just a few rounds?"
Flynn didn't move.
Rodolfo stepped forward, frowning. Something was wrong. He gestured to one of his guards. "Check on him."
The guard leaned down, then scrambled backward with a strangled cry.
"Commander—Flynn's crippled!"
Jason and Rodolfo both stared.
"Impossible!" Jason strode over and looked down. But he went still.
Though Flynn's eyes were open, but his jaw hung slack, drool running from the corner of his mouth. His face was blank, his gaze completely empty.
Jason crouched down to examine him. The jaw was dislocated.
Worse—his face was mottled with broken blood vessels beneath the skin.
His nerves were damaged.
Jason's expression darkened. "Get a physician! Now!"
He rose and rounded on Cressida. "You tried to kill him! This is outrageous!"
At those words, Madeline swayed and nearly collapsed. Her maid caught her just in time.
In the stands, Joseph shot to his feet. "This is too much! She was trying to kill him!"
That kick to the temple—it was vicious.
Joseph's voice rose. "Guards, arrest her. To maim someone here, in the palace..."
"Sit down," Miguel said coldly.
The guards froze.
Those two words carried absolute authority.
Joseph turned on him. "Miguel! You can't possibly think what Cressida just did was acceptable—"
Miguel's gaze was ice. "This is a sparring ring. The King's Guard set the rules. Flynn wasn't good enough. That's no one's fault but his own."
"Miguel!"
"I said sit down!" Miguel's hand came down hard on the armrest.
Marshall watched him closely.
He'd never seen Miguel this angry before. His face showed nothing, but the command in his voice was absolute.
Marshall cleared his throat. "Let's wait for the physician's assessment."
Joseph had no choice but to sit, muttering under his breath. "I won't marry a woman like that. Cunning. Vicious. Unnatural."
Below, Jason was still glaring at Cressida.
Her face stayed calm, almost serene.
"Commander Wright," she said, "didn't you say that in the sparring ring, we should fight in earnest? That blood didn't matter?"
"Yes, but—"
"And didn't you also say the ring is like a battlefield? That we can't afford mercy?"
"That's true, but—"
"Just now, when the match was over and he attacked anyway—when my brother was nearly struck by his hammer—you said nothing. Now that I've won, you accuse me. What kind of justice is that?"
Jason had no answer.
Rodolfo stepped forward, his frown deepening. "Miss Hamilton, Flynn held back because you're a woman. You could have stopped once you'd won. Why did you injure him so badly?"
He could see it clearly—Flynn was paralyzed.
That strike from Cressida must have damaged his spine.
Jason's voice was sharp. "He showed you mercy, and then you repaid him with this?"
Cressida's pale lips curved into a faint smile.
"When he struck me, it was mercy. When I struck him, it's treachery? Commander Wright, why don't you just say what you mean—that when a woman steps into the ring, she's only supposed to be beaten and humiliated. If that's the case, you should have said so from the start. I would have been happy to oblige."
The physician arrived.
He examined Flynn, reset the dislocated jaw, and ran his hands carefully along the young man's neck and spine.
Finally, he stood and bowed. "The nerves below the neck are damaged. But it's not beyond treatment. With rest, herbal poultices, and daily massage, he should recover within six months."
"Six months?" Rodolfo asked.
If that was true, Flynn was finished. The King's Guard couldn't afford to keep a man out of commission for half a year.
By the time he recovered, there would be no place for him.
Madeline, still leaning on her maid, let out a shrill cry. "Cressida! You think you can do whatever you want in the palace? I'm going to tell Her Majesty!"
Cressida didn't flinch. "If you want to tell her, go ahead. I have a question for Her Majesty as well—why was nothing done when Flynn killed a man in the ring years ago? Let's go ask together. Not just Her Majesty. Princess Russell. The King himself."
Madeline's face went white. She swayed.
Around the ring, voices rose from the King's Guard.
"Why does Miss Hamilton think she can go for the kill? Even if she knows a few moves, she can't just cripple people."
"Flynn held back. If I'd been up there, I wouldn't have."
"She's using the fact that she's a woman to gain an advantage. She's making fools of us all."
But not everyone spoke against her. Some of the guards remained silent.
They trained with Flynn. They knew whether he'd been holding back.
With Cressida's speed and technique, who among them could have lasted even two exchanges?
It was only because Flynn was Gregory Lopez's son—and Gregory might soon be Joseph's father-in-law—that so many were speaking up for him.
Cressida listened to the murmurs.
In the end, they all said the same thing. Flynn had shown mercy. Her victory was hollow. She'd taken advantage of being a woman.
"Since no one's convinced," Cressida said evenly, "let's have another match."
Shock rippled through the crowd, and even Miguel frowned from the stands.
Something was off. Normally, Cressida kept her head down. Stayed out of sight.
But today, she was deliberately drawing attention. Showing off her skill.
Almost as if she were provoking them.
Jason's frown deepened. "You want to fight again? You're that eager to humiliate us? You think everyone will keep holding back?"
Cressida's eyes were dark and cold. "You say Flynn didn't use his full strength. Then find someone who won't hold back."
She turned, scanning the mass of soldiers.
"The King's Guard is full of the kingdom's finest. Don't tell me you're all afraid of one woman."
The words were like a spark to kindling. The King's Guard erupted.
"Commander Wright, let her fight! We can't let her walk away like this!"
"She's a disgrace to General Hamilton's name. I didn't think Miss Hamilton would be this kind of person."
"This time we'll beat her into the ground. So what if she's the General's sister? She's just a woman—she can't be stronger than men who train every day!"
Rodolfo frowned. Looking at Cressida's expression, he suddenly felt uneasy.
He opened his mouth to object—
But Jason's voice rang out. "Fine!"
Jason's blood was boiling. He wanted nothing more than to see Cressida brought down.
But Rodolfo had the distinct, creeping sense that they were all being played.
There was a trap here.