Page 64 of Glass Hearts
“No,” is all I seem to squeak out. All eyes turn their attention to me.
“Well, if it isn’t my deplorable stepdaughter. Finally, she graced us with her presence. I believe you owe my daughters a congratulations, Belly.”
“W-when did this happen?” I step back into the heavy door, wanting to escape.
“What? No congratulations? How rude, Belly,” one of my stepsisters snarks.
“Of course she wouldn’t congratulate us, my love; she is just a jealous whore.”
Tears build up in my eyes at Sylas’s words.
“Sylas, how can you be so cruel? Why are you all doing this? Why did you do this?” I do not care at this point what my stepfamily and the councilman think.
“That would be Prince Sylas to you, peasant,” Koi snarls to me. Tears fall openly now. My heart is breaking into a million pieces.
“Oh, Arabella, when will you learn that love is not meant for someone like you? Especially to princes—Ha! You will never, ever be important enough. Did youreallythink one prince, let alonefour, could want the likes of you?” Bernice’s words cut deep, as shame fills my heart for believing it could be different. I turn to Grayer, the first to openly want me and love me.
“Gray, what is going on? Is it because of them?” I point to the councilman. Grayer turns to his Quadia, kissing her neck in answer.
“Is she always so disrespectful, Bernice?” the councilman asks.
“Unfortunately.”
The councilman claps his hands. “Then how about a little entertainment, boys? Seems the stupid girl needs to be put in her place. Get on your knees, girl.”
“No!” I cry out in anger. I see the councilman go to the side to take out a large whip that hid in the corner. “No,” turns into a desperate plea.
“Look at these ugly scars. You are lucky they even touched you with these monstrosities. Now, I don’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice. You need to learn your place and gain some damned respect. Four lashings for each prince, another four for each stepsister you tried to steal from, and one for your beautiful stepmother.”
Before I can even get on my knees, he is kicking me down. I look to my princes, who sit looking bored. The pain slices across my back without warning. Each lashing I take, I look at my princes. Sweat builds on my brow as he reaches the last nine.
I attempt to get up, but before I can even try to do that, he is slamming me down with one more brutal, harsh lashing. Pain slices my back as I cry out in agony, meeting the cool marble tiled floor.
“I don’t like uneven numbers,” he pants in exertion as I cry out, uncaring of the loud sobs. I can feel the blood dripping out of my wounds.
“Ugh, Mother, this is always so grotesque to watch. Must she still be here, bleeding on the floor on our engagement night?”
I feel Bernice’s claws in my arm before I see her, and she tries to pull me up to no avail.
“Get up, Belly, stop being so damned dramatic.” I slowly stand, my legs shaking, wanting to give out. The blood continues to drip down my back. “I think it’s time you left and got yourselfcleaned up. But don’t go too far, dear. I have found a suitor willing to marry you, and we will be visiting him tonight.”
They all start laughing as I limp to the door. I don’t bother looking back as I leave the dining room.
Pain fills my whole body, not just from the lashings. But from my broken heart.
Never again will I fall in love.
Arabella
When I make it back to my room, completely alone, I cry like I have never cried before. The pain is awful, but not as unbearable as what the princes put me through. Why would they say all those loving words if it was never true?
I remove the tattered dress, grab an old washbasin with a soft cloth, and try to clean up the sticky blood as best as I can. My hands shake, making the task difficult.
It’s time to sever ties with my stepfamily, once and for all. I jot a note and place it into Bert & Kip’s nest, knowing that if they find it, they will bring it to Lo.
Part of me wants to wait for Lo, but I also have no clue when my stepmother will make good on her threat of marrying me off tonight. I put on a loose shirt, and every movement of the fabric aches over each wound.
My breasts will have to stay taped, I guess, because there is no way I am wearing a bralette. I fasten my gold knife over my black pants and slip on my boots.
