It settled onto the throne room floor with a low clang, and the Tenebrae stalked forward to unlock the door. It opened without a sound, and she stared up at his shadowed eyes as he held out a hand.
"Come."
The shadows wrapped around her and forced her to take his awaiting palm, urging her to her feet. Once outside the cage, she couldn’t help but look, morbidly curious.
It was a large birdcage. Gilded edges with a softly curved top and circular inside. Gilded flowers adorned the top.
Her bare feet splashed into the watery blood on the floor as the Tenebrae pulled her forward.
Floris’s body had been moved, her head now resting on a spike in line with the others—besides her sister’s.Fawna. Luella held the name tight in her memory, unsure if anyone remained to remember it.
Luella was shoved to her knees, and she barely noted the thud of her bones as they hit the ground. She stared at the line of spikes, afraid to look behind her, lest the executioner’s blade be poised at her nape. She’d rather remain unknowing.
Her heart clenched as she saw a familiar head of dual-toned hair. Desara’s eyes were half-lidded, yet a strange awareness pervaded the blue irises as shadows drifted over her head, where it was upon the spike.
The Tenebrae made a huffing noise when he followed the line of her sight. "She didn’t want to give up where you had gone, but everyone has a weakness." Fabric rustled as he moved right before Luella. She saw his form in her periphery. "What is yours?"
She didn’t speak.
"Did you see my other gift?" Fingers held her jaw and forced her head further to the side, until her eyes settled on a spike further down the line—Ambrose’s head was atop it, eyes wide as they stared right back at her.
Luella flinched away violently.
Her head was forced forward. Silently, she seethed as she met the Tenebrae’s gaze, attempting to imbue every bit of malice she could into a singular look.
"Remember. This had to happen. This is your fault," he said, voice taking a soft tone as he held her face. "For trying to fly away like a little bird, I will clip your wings." The words rose to a roar, ensuring each courtier heard. "Not both of them, just one, because I want the remaining wing to be your reminder that all of this could have been avoided if you had only given in. It does not matter now, because Iwillwed you, my future bride."
"Wait," Luella whispered as a blade zinged at her back.
Her wings were tucked so tightly to her body, it was as if they were trying to merge with her spine.
The Tenebrae shook his head. "You had your chance. There will be no more waiting—there is only punishment."
Hands were against her wings, forcing them to unfurl. She began to fight weakly against them.
Looming above her, the Tenebrae was unmatched in his wicked rule. "Take the left, because that is the corridor she fled down."
The hands shifted to grip her left wing, crushing the delicate feathers. She gasped in pain as it was stretched out fully. She saw its shape out of the corner of her eye, a flash of pure white.
Shadows curled around her, holding her utterly still, until she could not even tremble from the anticipation of the blade’s fall.
"Try to bear it," the Tenebrae said, green peeking through the shadows in his eyes. It felt like staring up at Vale.
There was a whoosh of air, a collectively held breath from the crowd, then searing pain, unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
It hurt worse than the emergence of her wings, for that at least had been her body’s natural state taking form—this was a perversion of that, a cleaving of her very soul. An intrinsic part of her, ripped away by a sharpened blade.
White feathers scattered against the floor as her cut-off wing fell in a spray of red mist.
Luella wavered on her knees, lips parted in a silent agonized cry. Her balance was off; she teetered to the right, her left side weightless and gushing blood.
The Tenebrae bent. Her chest heaved; she was on the verge of passing out. She stared at his green eyes, pretending it was Vale, come to rescue her.
One of her feathers was clutched in his hand. He spun it between his index finger and thumb, the ends red with blood. "When birds are wounded, they need to be mended by a master. Only then can they eat out of the hand that healed them. What about you, flightless bird, will you be caged by my hand?"
Darkness speckled Luella’s vision. The shadows coiled around her—the only thing keeping her upright. She grew cold and numb, her blood seeping into the watery floor.
He stroked the bloodied feather over the edge of her cheek. "Pain teaches loyalty."
