avaseofpeonies

CONTENT WARNING: VIOLENCE This chapter may be especially difficult for those sensitive to issues of familial violence. Please be prepared and take care.

Chapter Two

You Will Be Tested

~*~

“You will be tested,” Gorvan said, a menace in his deep voice.

“No time like the present,” Kazia replied, almost cheerfully. She dropped her fur cape onto the floor, revealing a large satchel slung over one shoulder. She crossed the room to Kelvaran and handed him the satchel.

“Hold this,” she ordered.

Kelvaran watched her in confusion, his brow furrowed and his face paling by the moment as she began to unbutton her bodice.

“Kazia... no,” Abrizhen said, his heart squeezing as his panic rose.

Kazia's lightless eyes flicked a glance to him as she drew her bodice away.

“Be still,” she said, her voice hushed.

She reached into the top of her corset and pulled something out of it. Abrizhen saw only a flash of silver before the object was hidden in her bodice and both laid in Kelvaran's arms over the satchel.

Kelvaran looked down at what he held, his expression shifting to surprise. He narrowed his eyes, staring into Kazia's and seeming to search for something there.

“How can I?” Abrizhen said, pleading.

“Because you must,” Kazia murmured, although her gaze now remained on Kelvaran as she unhooked the busk of her corset, then added it to his burden.

She turned to Abrizhen and swiftly snatched the riding crop dangling from his hip.

“No!” he said firmly, grabbing it back from her, but a third hand appeared between them as Yilina pulled the crop from his grasp, then handed it over to Kazia with a malicious smirk.

“My thanks, Madame Vysda,” Kazia said with a cold smile.

Abrizhen watched helplessly as she returned to the center of the Hall, the exquisite ruffles of her silk skirt fluttering behind her, the black now a stark contrast to the soft white chemise above.

Kazia knelt on the floor, arranging her skirt, the ruffles spilling over the marble, and bent over, stretching her bare arms forward in prostration and laying the crop on the floor before her. She kept her face raised, her expression serene and proud, while she waited.

Gorvan stood and descended the dais. As he approached, he swept the crop off of the floor. He stood quietly observing his daughter for a long moment. Then he raised the crop and brought it down across Kazia's back.

Kazia gave no reaction. No sound, nor even a flinch.

Kelvaran blew out a harsh, shuddering breath.

Abrizhen's body lurched forward of its own accord, but Yilina grasped his arm, pulling him back as she tutted at him. He jerked his arm away, sparing only a glancing scowl at the joy in her eyes.

“Don't touch me,” he ground out. As he heard the crop come down again, he turned his scowl to Kelvaran, who stood with his arms clenched tightly around Kazia's belongings. He had bitten his own lip so hard it had begun to bleed.

“Too late now for regrets, Lord Meratha,” he muttered as the crop sounded again and Kelvaran's face blanched. “Today you learn what it is to be a part of this household. Stay long enough and perhaps you'll have your own turn at it.” He hazarded another look at Kazia as another strike came down and she inexplicably bore it with stoic placidity. “I assure you I will be there to see it,” he concluded.

Gorvan's practiced hand had aimed each blow in the same place across Kazia's shoulder blades, and the next one finally ripped through her chemise and opened her skin. Blood suddenly spread throughout the white fabric like a blooming rose, seeping upward to stain the delicate lace edging before trickling across her shoulder.

“Father!” Abrizhen called out as Gorvan raised the crop again. His blood ran cold with fear and anger, and he was unable to endure another minute of this. He braced himself, and chose his next words carefully. “With respect... a lengthy recovery may impede her usefulness.”

Gorvan halted his ready arm, glaring at Abrizhen heatedly, then lowered the crop after a moment of consideration. Leaning down, he clutched Kazia's hair, his fingers embedding into the coiled braids, and pulled her head back until she rose onto her hands.

Kazia gazed up at him with empty eyes, and her lips turned up in a smile of cold triumph. Gorvan peered at her intently, then returned her smile with satisfaction.

“Good,” he said, releasing her hair. “Very good. That is Devratha mettle. You could teach your useless brother a thing or two.”

Kazia's eyes flicked to Abrizhen, who turned his gaze away in shame, clenching his jaw to bite back any response. Gorvan grasped Kazia's arm and unceremoniously hoisted her to her feet.

“If you are pleased, Father, then I do have further conditions to my cooperation,” Kazia announced.

Gorvan raised his eyebrows. “Name them.”

“Your Alchemists will not touch me. There will be no experiments.”

“Um! Your Highness if I may,” Sir Goska suddenly piped up. He beckoned Gorvan over to him, then whispered something into his ear. Gorvan looked back at Kazia.

“You will give them blood daily,” he said.

Kazia narrowed her eyes at Sir Goska, and he took a nervous step back.

“Weekly,” she said.

“That... may not be enough...” Sir Goska hemmed, looking to Gorvan again.

“Three days weekly,” Kazia negotiated.

This seemed to satisfy Sir Goska, as he nodded slowly, seeming to calculate something quietly to himself.

“Lord Meratha will do the draw. Your Alchemists will not touch me,” Kazia added. She glared at the man she had assaulted earlier, who had retreated back to a seat at the side of the Hall and was being tended to.

“Agreed,” Gorvan said. He raised an eyebrow to Sir Goska, who still seemed anxious about this arrangement. “Have no worry, Sir Goska. Master Vlais will understand.”

“There will be no dungeon either,” Kazia said. “If you wish to confine me, then lock me in my room. It is still mine?”

Gorvan smiled genuinely, and extended a hand to cup her face, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “It is, and will always be. We have long awaited your return, my Daughter.”

He pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her. As she turned her face against his shoulder and stared away dispassionately, he pressed his hand into her back, sending blood running down into the silken folds of her skirt. Drawing away, he looked at his dripping hand, nodding with satisfaction.

“Devratha blood will always return to its home,” he said.

Kazia turned away from him without a reply and made for the doorway.

“Lord Meratha!” she called out imperiously. “With me.”

“Your Highness!” Yilina protested.

“Stand down, Yilina,” Gorvan ordered. He nodded at Kelvaran, who did not hesitate to follow Kazia. “All are dismissed!” he shouted.

“Kel...” Yilina whispered.

Kelvaran didn't need to feign the look of helpless bewilderment he gave her before rushing out in Kazia's wake.

Abrizhen watched after them, dumbfounded, as Gorvan returned to his high seat and all the Alchemists filed out of the Hall. Yilina ran to the foot of the dais.

“You can't possibly trust her!” she bellowed.

“Of course not,” Gorvan sneered, plucking a towel from his desk to wipe his hands. “But I'll play her game for now. You've done good work, Yilina. Be proud of your success.”

Abrizhen came forward with a short bow to his father.

“If you don't need me, I'll return to the stables,” he said curtly. “I may have just lost a sale, and if Yilina is due a reward I'll need to fix that.”

“Eh...” Gorvan grunted, waving a dismissive hand without sparing him a glance.

Abrizhen turned on his heel and made for the door. Once outside, he collapsed onto a stone bench, his breath coming in shuddering gasps, his face breaking into a cold sweat as he buried his face in his hands. A warm hand laid across his and he looked up to see Avetya smiling sorrowfully.

“Look after her, Avie,” he said, his voice breaking with his distress.

“Of course,” Avetya replied, grasping his hand.

“Take Byel to her. And... tell her I'll come see her when things settle down.”

Avetya nodded. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Right now... I'm going for a ride. I just need to be... not here.”

~~~*~~~