But these people don’t know that. They can’t. If the Kaiser knew I’d sent a warning to Vecturia with Dragonsbane, it would mean he knew about my Shadows as well, and I would be taken straight to my execution.

No, this is merely a show, a way to make the Kaiser and his dearest supporters feel better about their embarrassment. Most of them must have daughters they would like to see made kaiserin as well, another strike against me. They called for this, and the Kaiser was all too eager to agree. After all, this is how he likes me best: beaten and broken.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. That is terrible news.”

His eyes narrow and he shifts again in his seat.

“Your people were behind this,” he says.

It isn’t the first time he’s accused me of this, but this time I actually am responsible, and I am proud of that. These will be scars I will wear with pride.

But the war isn’t won yet, and we have much farther to go. So I drop to my knees and let Thora come forward to do what she does best: beg.

“Please, I have no people, Your Highness. I haven’t spoken to another Astrean in years, on your orders. I had no hand in this, you know that.”

His games grow boring when he wins them too easily.

“Theyn,” he says, snapping his fingers.

The crush of nobles parts for the Theyn, scarred face drawn and stoic, a whip in hand. He doesn’t look at me, but then, he never does. Not like the Kaiser, who enjoys every grimace, every scream, like a child watching a puppet show. The Theyn does this out of duty, which somehow makes me hate him more.

One of the guards rips my nightgown so that my back is bare, but thankfully everything else remains covered this time. The two who hold each of my arms brace themselves, as if I could possibly overpower them. But I don’t even try. Fighting only makes it worse. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Better to save my fighting for when it can actually make a difference.

“Twenty lashes,” the Kaiser says, his voice so soft I almost don’t hear it. “One for each family here who lost a son due to the foolishness of Astreans.”

Twenty. It doesn’t seem like a lot of men, all things considered, but if they are this highborn, this close to the Kaiser, they would have been farthest from the actual battle and better protected than anyone else. If twenty of them were killed, the overall numbers must be much higher.

This is worth it, I repeat again and again in my mind, hoping that will lessen the sting.

The Theyn’s boots click on the stone floor as he approaches from behind. I keep my head down so that it will be harder for them to see me cry. The first strike is always both the hardest and easiest to take. When it comes, I lurch forward, held in place only by the guards gripping my arms. The shock of it alone is almost worse than the pain, but at least it lands on unbroken skin. The next ones do not. They layer over one another until I could swear the tail of the whip is cutting through skin and flesh to kiss my very bones. Until it feels like it’s slicing through my bones instead.

On the fourth strike, I can’t hold back a scream. On the fifth, my knees buckle but the guards force me to stay upright. On the sixth, the tears finally come, streaming hot down my cheeks. By the time the tenth hits, I make it to that place where I am only half in my body. The other half floats somewhere above, feeling nothing, only watching. My mind grows fuzzy and dark spots dance in front of my eyes. I want to pass out to make the pain stop, but the last time I did, the Kaiser waited for me to wake up before finishing the punishment himself and adding another five lashes.

My hair is plastered to my forehead with sweat, despite the cold. The room is still, the jeers and shouts from the audience falling silent—at least to me. Nothing exists outside of my body, outside of this pain that I know will consume me.

My name is Theodosia Eirene Houzzara, Queen of Astrea, and I will endure this.

The whip cracks again and I feel it all the way to my toes. My arms ache from the guards’ grip. I can’t stand up, can’t stand tall the way my mother would have wanted me to. All I can do is scream and cry.

My name is Theodosia Eirene Houzzara, Queen of Astrea.

Another crack that bites through skin and muscle and bone. Another wound that will never heal.

My name is Theodosia Eirene Houzzara.

The next one hits my spine, sending a wave of shock that makes my whole body spasm. The guards don’t loosen their grip, so I only hurt myself worse.

My name is Theodosia.

Lost count now. It will never end. The guards release me and I fall to the hard floor in a huddle as another blow hits.

My name is…

My name is…

I focus on the tiles beneath my feet. I took my first steps on these tiles, my mother’s hand clasped tightly around mine to keep me up. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost feel her now, urging me to be strong, promising me that it will be over soon.

My name is…

One of the tiles is cracked. Unsurprising, considering how old they are and how little care the Kalovaxians take. But as I stare at the tiles and the Theyn brings the whip down again, another tile splinters, thin cracks bursting out from the center like spider’s legs.

I am imagining things. It isn’t the first time the pain has gone to my head. But even as I think it, I know it isn’t in my head.

I look up, past the gathered courtiers to the back of the room where my Shadows watch, their faces hidden by drawn hoods. Blaise. Energy pours off him in waves, though no one else seems to notice.

Even in the shadow of his hood, I can make out the green of his eyes, locked onto mine. He’s struggling to hold back, but it’s a struggle he’s losing. Artemisia and Heron are trying to calm him, but it isn’t any good, he’s about to erupt.

I do the only thing I can: I meet his gaze and hold it, even as the whip bites into my back again. I’m not sure if he’s soothing me or I’m soothing him, but the tenuous tie between us feels like all that’s keeping either of us alive, and I don’t dare break it.

WHEN IT’S OVER, THE KAISER and the courtiers file out, leaving me crumpled on the bloody floor. My Shadows wait in the back of the room, unsure what to do, but Ion makes his way toward me the way he always does, his Air magic making his steps light and soundless.

I can’t help but flinch when he crouches down next to me and his cold, dry hand comes to rest on my back where most of the blows hit, sending a wave of pain so strong it makes me dizzy. I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms to stay alert, and chew hard on my lip to keep from screaming. The pain only lasts a second before his power begins to seep through me, sealing the wounds. The skin of my back feels like ice.