The courtyard had fallen silent. The torches that once blazed with the heat of punishment had burned low, their flames trembling against the pull of the midnight wind. The shadows of the palace walls stretched long and cruel across the stones, wrapping around the figure tied to the ancient tree.
Liora hung there like a broken effigy.
Her arms were still lashed above her head, the ropes cutting deep into her wrists until her hands had gone numb. Her hair, once brushed and perfumed, hung in wet, tangled strands across her face. The white nightdress she had worn to bed was now a ruin, half torn, clinging to her skin where sweat, blood, and water had dried into patches. The swell of her belly was bare in the torchlight, taut and vulnerable, a pitiful image that made even the hardest hearted guards look away.
She could not scream anymore. She could not beg. The flogging had stolen her voice, and all that remained was the shallow rasp of her breath. Her lips were cracked, her throat raw, her body trembling with the effort of simply standing. The ropes and the tree kept her upright when her legs had long since surrendered.
The night insects chirped in the grass, oblivious to the cruelty of men and women. Somewhere beyond the palace walls, an owl called once, then twice, as if mourning.
Liora closed her eyes, hot tears squeezing past swollen lids. She thought of Gonzalo, his voice, his touch. The warmth of his hand over her stomach, the rumble of his laughter in her ear. She had clung to his name as they lashed her, had shouted it until her throat bled. Now she could not call for him even if she wanted to. Her tongue was heavy, her voice gone. Only his image in her mind kept her from crumbling into the darkness.
Then soft footsteps.
Liora forced her eyes open. At first she thought she was hallucinating. A slim figure was darting between shadows, carrying something wrapped in a cloth. The girl approached with nervous haste, her face illuminated briefly by the torchlight.
"Elira," Liora rasped, her voice so weak it was almost inaudible.
The servant girl glanced around before kneeling at her feet. She unwrapped the cloth, revealing a small flask of water. Carefully, she tipped it against Liora's lips.
The first drop hit like salvation. Liora's mouth opened greedily, though her throat burned as she swallowed. She choked, coughed, but still she drank. Water spilled down her chin and onto her chest, soaking the tatters of her dress, but she didn't care. Every drop was life.
"Slowly, my lady," Elira whispered, her voice trembling. "Too much at once will make you sick."
Liora drank until the flask was empty. She closed her eyes, her body shuddering with the effort. She could finally whisper, though her voice cracked like dry wood.
"Elira…" Her lips trembled. "Where is he? Where… is Alpha Gonzalo? Why hasn't he come to me?" Her eyes searched the girl's face desperately. "Why hasn't he freed me? Why hasn't he punished the ones who did this?"
The questions were knives, each one cutting deeper than the flogging had.
Elira hesitated. She lowered her gaze to the ground. "The Alpha…he is not here."
Liora blinked, her heart seizing with dread.
"He hasn't returned," Elira continued softly. "There was an attack. A rogue pack crossed into the borders last night. He rode out with the warriors to drive them back. He has been gone since."
The world tilted for Liora. She had been clinging to the belief that Gonzalo's absence was temporary, that any moment he would stride into the courtyard, sword drawn, fury blazing, and tear her free from the ropes. She had imagined him holding her trembling body close, swearing vengeance, punishing Vanya and her accomplices for daring to touch his Luna. That dream had been the only thread keeping her upright.
He was not even in the palace.
Her chest heaved, sobs rattling through her body. "Then…he doesn't know," she whispered. "He doesn't know what they've done to me."
Elira looked up, her eyes bright with pity. "He will know, my lady. When he returns, he will see. He will set you free. You must hold on until then."
Liora shook her head weakly, despair hollowing her voice. "How can I? My baby…" She looked down at her swollen belly, trembling with the memory of each lash that had landed near it. "Every strike…I thought I would lose him. I thought…" Her throat closed, unable to finish the sentence.
Elira reached out as if to touch her, then pulled back, fear flickering in her eyes. "You must not give up," she whispered urgently. "You have to endure. For the Alpha. For your child. Soon he will be back."
Her words were hurried, panicked. She glanced around again, nerves pulling her tighter. "I cannot stay. If anyone sees me here, they will punish me too."
"No," Liora croaked, panic spiking. "Don't go. Please. Stay with me…just a little…"
"I cannot!" Elira's voice was desperate. "Forgive me, my lady. I will come back if I can. Hold on, please."
She tucked the empty flask back into her cloth and fled, her footsteps echoing faintly before the night swallowed her whole.
Liora sagged against the ropes, her body wracked with sobs that she could not fully voice. The tears came hot and endless. The knowledge that Gonzalo was away, that he did not know of her suffering, was a deeper torment than the lashes themselves.
"Why…" she whispered to the night, her voice breaking. "Why haven't you come to me?"
The silence gave no answer.
Minutes, maybe hours passed. Time lost all meaning. The courtyard remained still except for the flicker of torches and the distant howl of wolves beyond the borders. Liora's head hung low, her strength ebbing away with every heartbeat.
Then, another presence.
Footsteps, softer this time, slower.
Liora raised her head with painful effort. Nyssa.
The healer stood a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable in the dim light. She did not approach with water or comfort. She only stood there, her eyes tracing the broken figure of the Luna tied to the tree.
"Nyssa," Liora whispered, her voice hoarse. "Please…help me…"
The healer's lips pressed into a thin line. "I warned you," she said quietly. "I told you your pride would be your undoing. You refused to listen."
Liora's heart twisted. "You think I wanted this?"
Nyssa shook her head. "No. But you brought it on yourself all the same. You've played a dangerous game with fate, and now fate has claimed its price."
Tears spilled down Liora's cheeks. "I only wanted to be loved," she whispered. "I only wanted what was mine."
Nyssa's eyes softened for a fleeting second, but the moment passed quickly. She straightened her shoulders. "And in your wanting, you have sown enemies everywhere you looked. Look at you now." She gestured at the ropes, the bruises, the swollen belly. "Pitiful. Alone. Broken. Do not blame anyone but yourself."
Her words struck harder than Vanya's cane.
Liora closed her eyes, a sob catching in her throat. She had no strength left to argue, no voice to defend herself. She could only cry, silent tears streaking down her face.
Nyssa lingered for a moment longer, then turned to leave. "Endure the night if you can, Liora," she said, her voice low. "If Vanya changes her mind, perhaps she will cut you free. If not…" She let the sentence trail off into silence.
Her footsteps receded into the dark, leaving Liora tied to the tree, sobbing into the uncaring midnight.