The Princess and the Guard (Book 1)

Thirty-Seven

Juliette didn't stop running. Her hair flew out behind her like a dark flag, and tears streamed down her face in an endless, gushing river. Her heart was racing inside her chest, slamming against her ribs in a desperate effort to break free. She paused in front of one of the palace's many paintings and yanked hard on the frame. The hidden door swung open, and Juliette darted inside, closing the frame after her. She tripped going up the narrow stairs, catching her hand on the edge of the step.

Pain shot up her arm, but she hardly noticed.

Shoving herself back up, Juliette dashed at the tears clogging her vision and kept moving up the stairs. She didn't make it to the top level of the palace before she had to stop, the sobs wracking her body making it impossible to keep walking. Sinking onto the stairs, cloaked in darkness, Juliette collapsed into herself. She let her frustration, and anger, and pain out in gut-wrenching sobs, hating Odette for putting her through this, hating herself for not being strong enough to stand up to her, hating the guards at the palace who did whatever she said without question.

Anger clawed its way up her throat. She screamed until her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, until her entire body was shaking so hard she thought she might vibrate through the ground.

With another ear-splitting scream, Juliette slammed her hand into the inside wall. Again and again, until her knuckles bled. The stone stared blankly back at her, and for a moment she found it cruelly ironic. Odette wouldn't be moved, no matter how hard Juliette pushed back. She could fight until her body was broken and it wouldn't matter.

Another scream ripped its way out, tearing the insides of her throat, coating it with blood. She shoved herself up from the stairs, darting the rest of the way up to the small room she'd taken to hiding in recently.

There were a few loose boards she'd noticed before. She yanked on them, as hard as she could, reveling in the sound of splintering. One of the boards came loose much easier than the others and she hurled it across the room. A cloud of dust rose in its wake, but she didn't pause long enough to notice.

Something pricked her fingers, and Juliette looked down to see a splinter had lodged itself in her hand, crimson blood pooling in her palm. She was still shaking, so it took several tries for her to get it out.

By the time she did, her whole hand was smeared with blood. Seas, it was so much blood.

Blood and pain and needles and nightmares.

Juliette sagged against the wall, sliding until she was a puddle on the ground. She wrapped her arms around her legs, crying into her dress and trying to force air into her lungs.