I reach out to grab his bicep and squeeze, as I hear Siphonie’s small cries beside me. “It wasn’t your fault, Rhenor. I’m sorry I can’t stop what’s about to happen now.” Rhenor nods.
Ereon’s sad brown eyes meet mine for just a moment, before his look of indifference rises to the surface. I thought he might try tostop this, but as he straightens his shoulders, I realize he won’t. Anger like I haven’t felt before intensifies as Rhenor walks to the post, a member ofthePrelpulls his arms around the pole and shackles them so he can’t run or turn from the incoming strike.
Thylas stands just to the side, the whip hanging limp in his hand. He walks up to Rhenor and hangs his head. Soft, irritated whispers are barely heard above the roaring crowd. After Rhenor finishes speaking, Thylas steps back and takes a deep breath before raising his hand, a sharp whistle hushes the crowd as the whip meets Rhenor’s back. Siphonie buries her face in the curve of my neck. I rub at her shoulders, my eyes pleading with Ereon as he looks at me. His fingers twitch at his sides as if he’s thinking.
Thylas raises his hand twice more and no one cheers. No one yells out. Small strips of bright red appear across Rhenor’s skin, but even he doesn’t scream. Thylas raises his hand again.
“Stop!Snuksech!” Ereon’s voice shatters the silence, but it doesn’t stop the images that come barreling into me.
Black hair. Screaming. My father, holding a whip. Fighting against the strength of my father’s soldier. Blood dripping on the stone because he stayed with me. Thylas. Thylas stayed with me when my mother died and my father whipped him for it. I remember taking care of those wounds when he was still asleep thanks to the tonic from the healers, but when he woke up ... when he woke up ... I don’t remember the rest of the memory.
But I see now how Thylas is struggling to breathe, how his fingers tremble against the leather handle. He’s doing exactly to Rhenor, what happened to him all those lunar years ago.
“BêlRhenor took the punishment without screaming, that earns him half the limit. Those are the rules ofsnuksech.BêlitSiphonie was assigned six lashings and he has received three. Let him go.”
His father chews on the inside of his cheek before signaling Rhenor’s release. Siphonie lets go of me, a sigh of relief escaping both of our lips. Rhenor stumbles towards us, sweat coursing over his brow. He reaches Siphonie, who wraps her arms around his waist. He kisses the top of her hair. “I told you I would survive.”
She snorts. “Stubborn ass.”
Thank you,I mouth to Ereon who simply nods.
Thylas stands motionless near the blood that was spilled against the planks of wood. He turns to us and the King holds up his hand, halting him. “Ambassador, you were told to issue six lashings.”
Thylas’ head snaps up. “And I dispensed the punishment as required. Rhenor’s six lashes were reduced to three, he is free to go by your laws.”
“He is free to go. You still have to hand out three more.”
Thylas looks at him with a puzzled expression, trying to understand the meaning. As I glance over, I notice Ereon absentmindedly tracing the buttons of his shirt, lost in thought. I look up at Rhenor expecting an explanation, but he just shakes his head.
“If another here should declaresnuksech, they are the ones who will receive the remainder of the lashings. My son knew this. Surely you don’t think us so weak of a kingdom that my word is not the law. I said there was to be six lashings and so there shall be, but now ...” His eyes darken before he continues, “I think there will be fivemore added. Saves me the trouble. I was going to haveSacheAtaiun dole out the punishment to my son anyway for what happened during theplal ryow.”
Ereon tosses his shirt to the ground. “Don’t worry about the restraints. I won’t run.” He makes his way closer to the post and stops just short as the soldier returns to his father’s side.
My blood feels as if it’s racing through my veins as my heart speeds up. He can’t do this, to willingly sacrifice himself for someone else. “Stop!” I yell at the King. “This isn’t right.”
“And here I was beginning to think you were the one Antalian who knew to keep their mouth shut,” the King says. “Perhaps you should receive some lashes as well, you aren’t with child after all.”
“She’ll remain quiet,” Ereon says, rolling his shoulders.
Siphonie grabs my wrist, pulling me back to her and wraps her hand around my waist. “His back ...” Siphonie whispers.
As Ereon turns, I take in the welts I felt at the consummation ceremony. The marks he tried to use to distract the men so they wouldn’t look at me. The marks on Ereon have scabbed over and are less red.
“Prince Ereon is already hurt. I can’t whip him without causing possible disfigurement.” Thylas turns to the King, who just shrugs his shoulders.
“He made his choice. Begin.”
Ereon winks at me, a brave facade in place, before he turns toward Thylas. “Come on, Ambassador. You’ve been wanting a chance to beat me since you met me. Don’t get soft on me now.” He braces his hands on either side of the pole and the crowd roarsagain. Seeing a Prince whipped, that’s what has them eager. I look back out at the crowd and imagine if I was one of them. They see him as the evil son of their ruler, of course they would applaud his anguish.
A whistle echoes and Ereon’s back becomes bloody instantly as the beads tear into his warm ivory skin. He doesn’t scream or yell, but I know no one will help him by calling outsnuksech.Not again. The muscles in his back tighten as another lash crosses it.
Thylas’ face seems to go from one of pain to one of stone as he continues the lashings. His brow furrows as if this is nothing but a job he must get done, and I wonder what’s going on in his mind. Thylas’ eyes glaze over and his breaths are ragged— judging by the rising and falling of his chest. The next two lashes come quick and still Ereon makes no sound but his knees shake. Crescent shapes must mark my palm as I hold my hand tightly in a fist.
On the fifth lash, Ereon’s blood speckles across Thylas’ golden armor. I watch as Thylas’ glazed-over expression fills with hate before the whip slices once more against Ereon’s skin. Ereon’s knees give out and a gasp leaves my lips. He lies on the ground for only a second before he gathers his strength and crawls up on his knees. His hands reach out to the post and hold on to it once again. He nods and Thylas releases the last lashing. Thylas’ face quickly changes from one of violence to one of confusion.
Look at how he enjoys it.
Thylas drops the whip and briskly walks back to the small room we were in earlier. He barely nods his head as he passes the King.
