In Darkness

Chapter Two

Fear flooded Willow's system and it took every ounce of control she had not to run. Running would have just made whatever punishment her mother had decided even worse. Despite her terror, she straightened her spine and met the Queen's gaze.

"I just needed some fresh air, Mother. I wasn't feeling very well." Willow's voice was shaky despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

"Mhhm." The Queen's eyes narrowed, "You know you aren't allowed to wander the palace alone, especially in the middle of the night. If someone saw you sneaking around they might think you are up to something."

Willow knew that nothing she said would get her out of this, so she chose to bite her tongue instead of trying to defend her actions.

"I can't let any disobedience go undisciplined. What kind of example would I be setting if word got out that I couldn't control my own daughter." The Queen stood, her thin frame looked menacing in the dim light. "Baron."

A tall, bulky, figure stepped out of the shadows and Willow flinched at the memories this guard's face brought up. Baron had been the Queen's go to for dealing with punishments and he had always been more than eager to comply.

"Baron, the Princess has been misbehaving and needs to be reminded of her place." The Queen gave Baron a look before exiting the room, confident that whatever punishment he decided on would suffice.

The Queen walked past Willow, refusing to make anymore eye contact with her or even acknowledge her presence again. The door opened with a soft creak and shut with a click, signaling that Baron and Willow were now alone.

"When are you going to learn your place, girl?" His voice was laced with cruelty and a dark gleam shown in his icy blue eyes.

Willow swallowed hard but kept her mouth shut, knowing better than to even think about making a sound.

"Get over here and get on your knees. Make a sound and it will be worse." Baron ordered.

Willow complied, her legs threatening to give out with every step. She dropped down and felt the cool stone floor bite into her knees.

She could hear the sounds of Baron pulling out the whip he always carried with him, attached to the belt at his hip.

"How many lashes do you think you need this time?" He asked, more to himself than to her.

He took a deep breath and brought the whip down. The sound of it cracked through the air and seemed to echo off the walls.

Silent tears slipped down Willow's cheeks as she felt the whip bite into the flesh of her back. She used her hands to muffle the cries as he flogged her over and over, counting each strike out loud.

"Eight... Nine.... Ten..." He finished, wiping away the beads of sweat that had begun to form on his brow. "It's to bad you've learned how to keep silent." He taunted, walking around to face Willow.

She continued looking at the floor, keeping her head down and wishing he would leave so she could cry without fear of being whipped more.

When she said nothing, Baron let out a pleased grunt and left the room to find the Queen to inform her that he had completed his task.

Once it was safe, Willow let out a sob and worked on pulling off the blood-strained dress. A searing pain shot through her with every movement but she had finally managed to remove the tattered gown.

After what felt like hours, she stood and made her way to the mirror on the wall by her wardrobe. She pulled her long dark hair over her shoulder so she could access the damage to her flesh.

Older, raised scars were covered in fresh blood as the new marks marred her delicate skin. More sobs wracked her body as she looked herself over, pleading with whatever god might be listening to get her out of here. To make her suffering stop. To make the pain stop.

What did I do that made me deserve this?

Finally resigning to the pain, she gently climbed into her bed and laid on her stomach, not bothering to put on clothes or mess with the blanket. Through her tears, sleep finally overtook her and she fell into a dreamless slumber.

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A soft knock at the door forced Willow to pry her eyes open. A soft creak sounded across the room and the sound of footsteps approaching made her very aware of just how vulnerable she was at the moment.

"Miss?" a male said softly.

Willow worked on turning so she could see the stranger who was now in her room. Her body protested each move, the pain from the lashes making her wince.

"Are you okay?" the voice asked.

Willow had finally turned enough to see his face, and his once pale skin was now bruised. "Michael?" His lip was swollen and he held his right side as if sporting bruised or broken ribs.

Tears stung her eyes and she could feel shame burn on her face.

This is all my fault.

He was hurt because of me.

"I've been ordered to escort you down to the throne room." His voice wavered as he took in the full scope of the damage inflicted on her back. "Can you move?"

"Yes." She didn't have a choice.

"Is it okay if I help you?" He asked gently, wanting permission before putting his hands anywhere on her.

She gave him a quick nod and he reached down to grip her arm and help her to the side of the bed.

"I am sorry you were hurt because of me. You shouldn't have helped me." Willow's voice was full of guilt and she couldn't meet his gaze.

"I would do it all again." He said, as he pulled the blanket over her still naked body. "Let me get some water and bandages and clean you up."

She sat there watching him maneuver around her room. It was clear that he knew where nothing was, but he still didn't ask for her help. Without a word, he exited the room and returned a few minutes later with some cloth bandages and some kind of little jar.

Michael walked over to her and sat on the edge of the bed. "Please turn if you can so I can have better access to your wounds."

Willow complied and turned, feeling a little uncomfortable with his closeness. No one had ever really been kind to her or shown her this level of care. Most were too afraid of how the Queen would treat them if they showed any kindness to her.

"I brought some salve. It will help with the pain." He tried to make conversation as he worked.

Once he had finished and the last bandage had been placed, he stood and walked towards the wardrobe on the wall opposite the bed.

"Do you have any loose-fitting gowns? Something that won't put pressure on your back?" Real concern tinged Michael's voice. He knew what it was like to be abused as he was once his father's personal punching bag.

He looked through the hanging garments for one that might be more comfortable, but had no true idea which one of these dresses would fit best.

"There should be a dark green one in there. I think its the loosest one I have that is still presentable." The salve that Michael had used was beginning to kick in and the pain was dulled, allowing Willow some relief.

Michael found the dress and took it over to Willow. "Would you like me to help you get it on?"

"Please." Willow blushed. Having a man helping her get dressed just made her more aware of the fact that she had been sitting here naked except for the thin blanket she had been hugging to her torso.

He held the dress out and began to slip it over her head, which would have been easier had he not decided to keep his eyes focused on a spot on the wall to give Willow some form of privacy.

Once the gown was laced up, Michael helped her stand and offered his arm for support.

"Did the Queen say why she wanted me?" Willow finally asked. It was rare for her mother to summon her, especially to the throne room.

"I'm afraid not, but I think it has something to do with the visitors," Michael offered as they began their walk through the maze of halls that led to the north wing where the throne room stood.

"Visitors?" Willow asked. She hadn't heard anyone mention any visitors coming, not that she was important enough to keep informed, but something in her gut twisted.

This can't be good.