Valentina,” the king said coldly, “go ahead. Remove the cloth from her face. Let everyone witness her before the lashes begin.”
Valentina hesitated for a breath, then stepped forward with trembling hands. She looked at me, eyes uncertain, before reaching up and slowly pulling the cloth off my head.
Sunlight hit my face. Gasps echoed around the courtyard. Some were shocked at how young I was, others perhaps recognized me. But none of that mattered. I stood still, chin lifted, refusing to show fear. My eyes didn’t scan the crowd — I had no one to look for. Not anymore.
Valentina turned to collect the cane from the guard. I braced myself. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t scream. They wouldn’t get the satisfaction.
Then, just as she was handed the whip, a strong voice rang out from the crowd.
“
