Chapter twelve
"Argh!" Faelyn jerks awake when a basin of bone-chilling water crashes over her body. Her eyes fly open, coughing violently as the shock steals her breath.
Syra and Duga glare down at her, and Faelyn already knows what's coming next. She's grown used to their cruelty.
Syra yanks her from the wooden floor where she'd collapsed, and Faelyn's weak body - denied food for days - nearly gives out completely.
"I don't remember giving you permission to rest. Are you still pretending to be hurt?"
Pretending? The wounds covering her body are obvious to anyone with eyes, but they always find the smallest excuse to hurt her more or extend her starvation.
"Even if you act weak, you still have to work like everyone else. But you've been hiding here all day. Don't you know what tonight is? You need to be punished for avoiding your duties!" Duga snarls, her palm striking Faelyn's face again and again.
