“I had potential.”Shut up, Elora.She bit her tongue, but it was too late.
Thorn gave a small, bitter hum—barely a chuckle—and dropped his hand from her chin. “Your very existence is an insult to her memory. Flora had the potential for greatness. For power. You?” His gaze swept over her like filth underfoot. “You would never have been more than a low-level alchemist. But thanks to Tehvan, your potential only ever extended to being my lab rat.”
He turned away and walked to the far side of the room, unlocking a tall wardrobe with a key from his coat. Whips. Canes. Rods. All lined up with the same care he gave his surgical instruments.
He selected one. Bounced it in his hand, testing the weight.
When he turned back toward her, she braced herself, heart hammering. She was sure she crossed a line and he would make herpay for it. How did this type of punishment usually go? She had no idea. She was never on the receiving end.
But he didn’t swing. He just looked at her. Not past her.Ather. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Hesitation? No. Conflict.
He dropped the whip down on the bed in front of her. “Clean them.” Then he just left.
Elora sat on the mattress, trembling hands massaging her temples. The whip lay beside her; the leather flaking at the seams. She wondered who these had been used on. But the answer was easy. Everyone. Everyone except her.
Picking it up, she tested the weight of it just as Thorn had. She thought of Rian’s quiet limp. The times Arria bit her lip in pain as she struggled to sit down. She thought of Symond. Angry, bitter Symond. Scars lined his arms. Rows of them. Ugly and rigid. Marks of a punishment he probably didn’t earn.
Marks that were meant for her.
Even now, she wasn’t spared anymore. Thorn had taken her blood, claimed her body for his work. Torture with a scholarly name. And yet… he hadn’t used these on her.
Not even once. Why?
The others had bled for their chance. For their future. They paid the price in pain and silence and obedience. And she got to coast through it. She hadn’t suffered like they had. And for it, she hadn’t earned her place. She was hardly paying for it now. The thought sparked a sick sort of clarity.
Maybe she was exactly where she belonged. Maybe… maybe she didn’t deserve freedom.
Chapter 24
Elora
Elora sat cross-legged on the worn couch in the wards’ common room, a deck of cards spread before her as she studied her options. On the other side of the table, Amara was leaning forward with her chin resting in her hand, her own cards clutched tightly as she examined her hand. To their left, two guards lounged with relaxed postures, smirking and chuckling softly as the game unfolded. The stakes were laughable—extra snacks from the kitchen—but to the wards, small wins like this were worth the effort.
The guard furthest from her tossed his cards down, muttering a playful curse under his breath as Amara took another round.
“I’m unbeatable tonight,” Amara said with a grin, tossing her blond hair back as she collected her winnings. A handful of dried apricots the guards had “donated” from their stash. Amara tossed one to Elora. It was warm from the sun and slightly fuzzy against her palm. The flavor was rich, bright and honeyed, with a subtle tartness that clung to her taste buds.
The next round played out and Elora studied her hand, the cards worn and slightly sticky from years of use. She placed one down, earning a groan from the second guard, Malvin.
“Good move,” he said, leaning back and throwing his card onto the table. “Guess I’m out. Lucky for you, darling, I’m a man of my word. You’ll have that chocolate bar tomorrow.”
Elora nodded, offering a small smile. It wasn’t much—a piece of chocolate, a bit of extra comfort—but it was enough to give her a sense of control in a world where she otherwise had none. Gerard had been right. The guards could be their “friends,” if only in a transactional sense.
Not all of them were as easy to deal with, though. A few had requested that she perform some appalling acts on them in exchange for a soft blanket or fragrant soaps. Each time, she had declined as firmly as she could manage, and to her surprise, they had let the matter drop without retaliation. But she didn’t take their restraint for granted. She knew the balance of power in this place was tenuous at best.
The door to the hall creaked open and a new group of wards shuffled in. One of them shot her a brief, curious glance before muttering something to his friend. Elora wasn’t oblivious to the whispers she often caught from the others. It didn’t bother her; she was used to it. She’d spent years as an outsider among her peers. This was no different. She knew Thorn’s interest in her was a constant topic.
The atmosphere shifted slightly as Gerard entered, his confident stride demanding attention. He was like Thorn in that way, able to control a room without so much as speaking. Unlike Thorn, people were not quiet when he’d enter. A wave of excitement passed through a cluster of female wards seated near the corner, their chatter quieting to soft giggles as they straightened in their chairs. Elora glanced over at them briefly before returning her focus to the cards she held.
To her left, Malvin relaxed in his chair, calling out to Gerard as he approached with several guards in tow. “Gerard. Got a favor to ask. Can you switch her assignment tomorrow to garden duty?” he said, tilting his head toward Elora.
Gerard stopped mid-step, his sharp gaze shifting to Elora, then back to Malvin. “What’d she do to earn it?”
Earn it? Why does it matter?She thought bitterly. Malvin hadn’t sought anything special. He’d simply wanted stories about her time as a student, small glimpses into the life she’d lost. It had been difficult, reliving those memories, especially the ones involving Tehvan or Arria. Which was most. Each recollection was like a thorn piercing her chest, especially the good ones.
The request had seemed odd at first, but then she realized Malvin wasn’t so different from her. Although he enjoyed freedom of movement and some authority, he felt trapped, forced to watch students rise, leave, and build impressive futures while he remained behind, overlooked and bored. The guards envied the students, their purpose, their potential. That envy fed Malvin’s fascination, and Elora had played along, if only to secure small mercies like this.
Malvin shrugged, his nonchalance a stark contrast to the intensity of Gerard’s gaze. “She earned it. That’s all that matters.”
