Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) (47 page)

Natalia ground her teeth together to keep the curses inside her mouth. Her fingers itched to rip the Queen’s hair out, and her whole body trembled with the effort of containing her anger.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut. “No, my Lady, the bell did not ring,” she whispered.

“Then that’s one lash for breaking a house rule. But that is a small price to pay for a small indiscretion. This, however, will cost you much more.” She flicked her fingers, summoning a gaunt page who resembled a skeleton dressed in black brocade and velvet. He bowed deeply, handing a shimmering trinket to the Queen. She lifted it with her index finger.

Natalia’s mouth went dry as the pendant caught the torchlight. A single red crystal wrapped in filigree dangled from a golden chain below the Queen’s finger.

“To this day,” the Queen said, “it amazes me your father could have been so careless as to give a blood crystal to an ordinary dairy maid. That he made her his queen is laughable.”

Natalia silently glared at her.

The Queen stared at the crystal with hunger in her eyes. “So special… so precious,” she purred. She set the necklace in her lap and looked at Natalia. “Rose,” she said, not removing her eyes from Natalia’s, “what is the punishment for thievery for a child under thirteen years of age?”

Rose took a shaky breath. “The – the thief’s hand is – is broken by – by a hammer.” Her voice warbled on the last word.

“Very good, Rose. For one so young, you know the gracious laws of our kingdom well, but I would expect no less from the daughter of our late king. Now, let me ask you one last thing. This was no ordinary necklace; it was stolen from your queen. That deserves at least ten more lashes, don’t you think?”

Natalia’s chest constricted. The gears of her brain were still caught on the image of Rose’s little fingers being smashed to bits. The nightmare played over and over in her mind’s eye, sucking away her focus until she almost missed the Queen addressing her.

“A fair price to pay, wouldn’t you agree, big sister? I am without a doubt one of the most magnanimous rulers for ten kingdoms. Not many others would be so generous.”

Rose was crying uncontrollably now. She whimpered and shook her head as the Queen summoned forth three guards, the middle of which wielded a large, metal hammer.

Natalia watched them approach the dais, growing cold all over. “No,” she said, barely audible.

They took Rose from the Queen’s grasp, pulled her down the dais, and forced her to her hands and knees. One of the men yanked her right hand out. Rose struggled against them, shrieking as two of the guards held her down, while the third raised the hammer.

“Wait!” Natalia held up a hand and stepped forward.

The Queen tried to look surprised, raising both delicate, dark brows.

Time stopped for a heartbeat before Natalia spoke.

“I will take her punishment, all of it.”

“No, Tali! You can’t!” Rose yelled, but the Queen held up a finger, and one of the guards placed a hand over Rose’s mouth.

“You will still be required to perform all of your duties,” the Queen said. “This is a punishment for a criminal, not an easy way out of service.”

“I understand,” Natalia said, trying to swallow but finding no moisture left in her mouth.

The Queen slowly smiled. “Very well.”

With a wave of her hand, the guards released Rose. The child stood and stumbled toward Natalia, crying out her protests, but she was seized by two guards.

“Don’t do this!” Rose pleaded, trying to turn her head as the guards hauled her toward the doors. “Tali, you can’t take this on yourself! It’s my fault! I’ll take the punishment! I’ll take…”

Natalia’s heart clenched, and she closed her eyes, unable to block out Rose’s screams as her voice grew farther away. The doors closed with a resolute thud, making the sudden silence seem incredibly loud.

Natalia balled up her fists and locked her jaw as the guards came forward, grabbed her by the arms, and brought her before the foot of the dais. Two hands clamped onto her shoulders, forcing her down. It wasn’t hard; her knees were threatening to give anyway. The bulk of her weight landed on her kneecaps with a sharp crack of pain, but she barely noticed it. Her eyes were locked on the hammer.

Someone shoved her over so low that her chin touched the floor. Her elbow popped as her right arm – and her writing hand – was jerked outward. A man pressed his boot against her wrist, pinning her hand to the floor. The soft threads of the rug poked between her fingers like blades of blood-red grass.

She struggled to breathe and control the dizziness taking over as the hammer rose in the air. Tearing her eyes away, she found the Queen staring down at her with the hint of a smile playing on her lips. The Queen had twined the chain of the necklace around her fingers into a familiar crisscross pattern; it was from a children’s game that involved making a web out of yarn or string so as to trap your opponent when she tried to slip her fingers through the strings.

In the center of the golden web was the pendant, staring out through a prison of gold bars.

Natalia was so transfixed by it that she did not hear the whoosh of air as the hammer swung down.

All sound disappeared, leaving only the white-hot fire melting the bones in her hand. Her mouth flew open, and a scream climbed up her throat, but she didn’t hear if it escaped. The fire spread through her wrist, up her arm, and into her chest. Movement along her back; the threads holding her shift closed were being ripped open. Cold air licked the pale rivers of scars flowing along her spine and over her shoulder blades as they folded the top of the shift down, baring her shoulders and the slight curve of her breasts. She tried to cradle her now deformed hand, but the guard wielding the hammer pressed the heel of his boot firmly against her throbbing wrist, shooting knives of renewed pain up her veins. She bit down on her bottom lip, nearly tearing it in half. Hands gripped her shoulders so tight she could not move. A crack rang through the air; it felt like a dagger was slicing her back open, over and over and over again. Wet, hot streams flowed down her skin as her body cried tears of blood, and the sobs gathering in her throat threatened to burst through the seam of her lips.

Heavy silence filled the air so abruptly it startled her. The pressure on her shoulders eased, and she fell forward feeling broken, bloodied, and bruised.

“Let that be a lesson well-learned,” the Queen said.

She must have gestured, because the guards grabbed Natalia by her arms once more and pulled her to her feet.  Every muscle in her body screamed at her to lie down, but she gritted her teeth, found her balance through the haze of pain, and gazed upon the Queen with defiant eyes.

The Queen smirked. “What a mess you make, my dear. It’s a good thing my carpet is red. I expect you to be cleaned up by the time the morning bell rings. And if you’re late…” Her violet eyes darkened, turning nearly black. “Then I may change my mind about dear Rose, after all.”

Natalia barely managed to nod because her body was shaking so badly she could hardly see straight. She couldn’t tell if it was from pain or fear; maybe both.

“My Queen,” Natalia said.

Octavia flicked her wrist. “Now get her out of my sight so I can return to my chambers. I’m quite tired after all this nonsense.” She daintily stifled a yawn, with the necklace threaded between her fingers and the crystal swaying beneath her palm.

Natalia pried her eyes off of the pendant as the guards led her away, not slowing when her feet dragged, or her step stumbled. The doors opened with a groan, and they pushed her into the hall so forcefully she lost her balance. Instinctively, she threw out her hands to catch her weight and bit down hard on her lip when the swollen fingers of her injured hand lit up with pain. Her sob was lost, swallowed up by the sound of the doors slamming shut, and she was left alone with the shadows and rows of lit white candles.

Natalia closed her eyes and fought back the dizziness and nausea. It would be so easy to lie down.

“I may change my mind about dear Rose after all.”

Pushing back her pain, Natalia slowly rose and tucked her throbbing hand against her chest. She would have to move fast if she hoped to change before the morning bell. The top of her shift was still open, barely clinging to her shoulders and threatening to fall off completely with each jagged step.

How much time did she have? How close was dawn?

Move faster. Rose isn’t out of danger yet.

Her bones and muscles seemed to stiffen with each movement. By the time she cleared the hall and reached the stairs that spiraled down into the servants’ quarters, her teeth were grinding together so hard her jaw was beginning to hurt, as well. The staircase was precarious; it was perpetually slippery from mold and slime, and her shoulders sagged with relief when she stepped off of the last step.

A tight corridor lined with doors stretched before her, and she shuffled to the last room. There were no locks, for which she was grateful this time as she used her shoulder to shove open the old, wooden door. It swung open into darkness. The single torch in the hall was too far away to reveal the room’s contents: a brown, blood-stained mattress; a little chest of dresses, most of which she had sewn together using parts of old dresses that were too small for her; and an oval looking glass hanging from a crooked tack on the wall. The pieces of the mirror’s shattered surface lay on the filthy floor below, where they had remained for the past ten years. For some reason unknown to her, she had never bothered to pick them up. She was usually so tired by the time she got back to her room that she just collapsed onto her bed and fell into a coma.

Shutting the door as quietly as she could, Natalia immediately moved for the chest. She had no idea how long it would take to dress with only one hand. The broken mirror caught the faint blue light growing behind the dingy curtain. In the mirror, she saw the outline of tangled black curls, brown eyes that looked much too big for the sharp-boned, ashen face, and the hard set to her chapped red lips. Her reflection stared back at her from different angles, and she scowled back at it, spitting on the looking glass. The bittersweet aftertaste of rage slithered inside her.

Father, how could you leave us alone? How could you let Rose grow up in a world like this?

She lifted her hand, already forming a punch, before sighing and dropping her fist at her side. She would still need that hand to scrub, sweep, and slice. And she had more important things to do than brutalizing mirrors, like dressing, saving Rose, and not bleeding out before the bell tolled.

Timid knocking floated through the door, and she whirled, her hand already sliding for the knife in her boot and feeling her bare calf. She cursed and wondered if she could reach the mattress in time to claim the knife hidden beneath it. The guards had hauled her out before she was conscious enough to think to grab it.

“Tali?” called a soft voice. “Are you there?”

Natalia’s body tensed even more. This was worse than an intruder.

Composing her face so as to mask her pain, she hobbled over to the door and jerked it open.

“Dearest, what are you doing here?” Natalia said, pulling her baby sister inside and shutting the door quietly. “You know the curfew rules: No one comes out of her room before the bell.”

“I’m so sorry, Tali.” Rose’s voice blurred with sobs. “I never meant for… I only wanted…”

Natalia smeared away her sister’s tears with her good thumb and gave her a reassuring smile. “There’s nothing to apologize for, love. I’d do anything to protect you. Please, you have to get back to your room before Maxime or one of the other girls sees you.”

“Wait!” Rose swiped at Natalia’s hand. “I have to give you this.”

She felt Rose grab her good hand, pry her fingers open, and place something light that crackled a lot in her palm. Natalia started to close her fingers around it.

“Stop!” Rose said. “Don’t or you’ll crush it.”

Natalia didn’t say anything, puzzled.

“It… it was the last one from Mother’s grave.”

Natalia’s heart stuttered, and she took in a shaky breath. As carefully as if she was cupping a baby bird in her hand, she traced her thumb along the rough edges of dried petals, feeling the base of the bulb for the spot where the rose blossom connected to the stem.

“I know they’re your favorite,” Rose said quietly, fiddling with the end of one of the ribbons securing her corset. They had been a present from Natalia on her birthday last year, and she never saw her take them out. “Mother would want you to have it – to have a piece of her,” Rose went on. “I’ve been keeping track of the days by marking them on the wall in chalk so I wouldn’t miss it.” She smiled. “Happy birthday, Sister. Or well, early birthday. I know it’s tomorrow, but I didn’t want Verika to steal your present. She’s been lurking around my room lately, and I always seem to find something missing after I’ve seen her.”

Natalia’s eyes stung. “Oh, Rose,” she said, smiling so wide her face hurt. “I love you. Thank you.”

She didn’t hear Rose’s next words. The memory of her mother’s rose garden, fresh and alive with vibrant color, came to the forefront of her mind. The image was so real that Natalia could feel the velvety softness of the petals. She remembered the feeling of lifting a bloom to her nose and sniffing; it tickled, making a laugh bubble up her throat. Her mother’s meadowlark voice danced along the breeze, the light notes of her song taking flight in the spring air.