Alexander

Lashes

The whip was Alex's least favorite, because Nicholas didn't know when to stop. He thought again back to the painting incident. He was in so much pain, he wished he would die, and Nicholas hadn't even been the one flogging him. He just hoped that this went as well as the blow this morning had.

Of course he couldn't be so lucky.

After the lathered Prince was led off, Nicholas set his hungry eye right on him and the familiar fear came rushing back. There was no courage left by the time Nicholas put his palm on the small of his back, sending uncomfortable chills up his spine. "Let's go, brother, we have a special date."

Elizabeth followed behind them, beaming, as they made their way passed the jail and into the whipping chambers. The whole way there Elizabeth had hissed his transgressions in Nicholas's ear.

Nicholas shoved Alexander so hard that he smacked down on his knees, crying out. "Shirt off," Nicholas commanded.

Alexander obeyed.

The boy's skin was already covered in scars, but the fact did not cause empathy to enter the hearts of either sibling. In fact, it only made Nicholas more excited to get the stiffened rope in his hand.

"Stand with your hands against the wall!" Nicholas barked. Alexander obeyed, the muscles in his back quivering in anticipation. "If your hands come off the wall, you get another one. You start with ten."

No matter how hard he consciously tried at the first lash his hands went flying, as if somehow their touch on the wounds would ease the pain. It didn't. It only earned him a malicious smile from Elizabeth, who held up one thin finger. One extra lash. None down, ten to go. Only, it felt as if they had all already happened as the intense heat ripped around his back and flowed down to his limbs. A grunt pressed through his teeth as he replaced his hands on the wall, this time leaning his full weight against them.

The next whistle through the air, and then the strike, his hands came off the wall and he fell forward, smacking his nose against the surface. Blood poured out and dribbled into his mouth. Unexpected emotion flooded his chest, causing him to sob once, choking on the bitter, metallic substance. He regained his feet, pressed his hands against the wall.

Around the fifth one he was so dissociated from his body, from the pain, that his hands remained pressed against the wall, but it didn't matter. Neither of his siblings were counting anymore. Both were relishing in his agony.

Nicholas relished in the release he got from watching him suffer. As sweat poured down his brow, and his arm began to tremble, as the boy began to slip down, unable to stand any longer, pleasure swam throughout his body in waves.

Elizabeth was enjoying it for another reason. It was as if she was witnessing her mother's judgement fulfilled. Every time Alexander was hurt, or mortified, or put to shame, her mother cried out in the afterlife, Elizabeth could feel it. Everyone had always revered her mother as a saint, as a perfect human, but Elizabeth had known that there had to be something deep and dark in that soul of hers, and it was Alexander. It had always been Alexander.

Alex was experiencing intense flashbacks from the last time this had happened, but this was worse, so much worse. This had no end in sight. He felt hot, so hot. He was burning up from the inside out, or the outside in, he didn't know and he didn't care. He felt floaty and dizzy and sleepy...

"That's enough," a distant voice said, but Alexander wasn't conscious enough to hear it.

No matter. The people it was directed towards did.

"Shut up, Josiah," Nicholas panted, hating his brother for taking away his focus. His arousal diminished "He needs punishment."

Josiah took a step towards his manic brother and stretched out his arm. "Give it to me."

Instead of listening, Nicholas swung his arm back and hit Alexander again. The kid didn't even respond. Just slumped closer to the floor into a puddle of his own blood.

"Enough!" Josiah said. "I'm all out of patience."

"Father gave me permission!"

"Father is blind!" Josiah shouted, rushing Nicholas and yanking the whip away. "He always has been! This fief is in shambles, the war is a ruckus! Hell, even his own home is in disarray!"

"Don't you dare speak of Father that way!" Nicholas said, and Elizabeth joined him at his side.

"Nick," she said, uncertainty lacing her tone. "I think he's right. This has gone far enough. Alexander groaned from his place on the floor and Elizabeth shot a nasty look his way. "This is all her fault," she said with venom. "This is all because of him." Elizabeth turned back to Nicholas. "But we can't kill him," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she fiddled with his hair. "Not here, not yet."

Elizabeth's touch soothed him, but the craving was still there, like an itch he couldn't reach, and a woman couldn't itch it for him, either.

Josiah went to Alexander and lifted him up out of the mess. It reminded him of how he'd held his training partner when he'd been shot down by the enemy's arrow fleet. He reached up two fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse. There was one, and it was strong at that. He'd probably just been overwhelmed and passed out.

"He's had enough," Josiah repeated. "I doubt he can even feel it anymore. He needs the infirmary."

"No, he doesn't need salves or treatment. He needs to understand what he's done," Nicholas said, and at that they left.

Josiah stood, the boy dangling in his arms, and carried him back to the cellar where all kinds of creatures would happily lap up the excess blood. It smelled rank down there, but he pulled out a bit of parchment from his pocket and sat down next to Alex while he slept. He also located his tiny bit of ink and a perfect feather and began to scrawl out a note to Lydia.

You were right. Nicholas is going to kill Alexander before all of this is over. Don't worry. I have a plan.

— Josiah, Your Brother