Page 26 of Chasing Luna
We follow the drops of liquid back down the stairs, to a sliding door that leads outside. “This path leads to the graveyard, doesn’t it?” I ask Eliza, who is already walking toward the other end of the hallway.
“Isabela, let’s go this way.” She grabs my hand and pulls me to a broken glass window. Wooden planks board the window and we both look for slight openings to peer outside.
“What is happening?” I say, trying to see through the small spaces in between the planks. Behind the wrought-iron gates of the Esperanza family graveyard, I can make out silhouettes of men and women wearing dark cloaks and gloves, encircling something small in their center. A crack in the wind echoes in the air and I finally put two and two together.
“Tell us the truth and this all ends!” Another whiplash startles me and outside I can hear a couple of cackles from the crowd.
“I told you already! I have no idea who she is!” The whip comes in contact with Gregory’s skin a third time, and I’m already running past Eliza and out the door before I realize what I am doing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When will this cruelty end?I shield my body in front of Gregory, surprising the ones encircling him. “Stop this nonsense at once!” I scream. I sneak a glance at Gregory, lashes cover his body, and blood trickles from his torso down to the freshly cut grass. He sputters out blood and looks at me. “What are you all doing?” I ask, careful not to seem eager to save the man behind me.
“We just wanted answers, Your Highness,” one of them responds, taking off her hood. Another soon follows suit, and another, and another. I recognize a couple of Katya’s guards: some warriors, and some hunters.
“Princess Katya’s death was too sudden, and his appearance seemed too abrupt for it to be a mere coincidence.” A man with a marred face almost snarls at Gregory.
“You’re looking for answers from a man who can’t remember anything? With whips? Were you really concerned with finding Katya’s killer or did you just enjoy torturing someone who might be innocent just because you can?” I spit out.
“How dare you.”
“Oh, how dare I?” I quickly turn my head and step as close as humanly possible to a woman my age, and push her backward. “How dare I? Me, the one who inherits the crown?”
“We don’t want you to lead us.” She glares back at me and I push her back again.
“Okay. I can accept your stance. But how dare you talk back to me?” I shove her back and she stumbles backward. “Me, your princess? Have you forgotten who you are in this pack? Have you forgotten whoI am?” I raise my hand to hit her again but she slaps my hand away.
“I don’t care!” she growls.
This makes my blood boil instantaneously. I punch her straight in the face, but she dodges quickly. However, my foot connects to her side faster than she can gain back her balance. She tries to stand back up, but I step on her neck. “Me, who is the sister of the person who got killed?” I say, slowly pressing on her airway. I lift my foot ever so slowly and she makes an attempt to claw at me. I kick her so hard in the face I’m sure I knock out a few teeth. “I can respect you not trusting me to be a leader.” I aim for the stomach this time and she doubles over, trying to catch her breath. “I can understand the pain you feel for my sister’s death.” She tries to grab at my ankles and pull me down to her level, yet I dodge quickly. I crouch and pin her arms behind her body, and promptly sit on her waist so she’s unable to move. “And I can acceptyouwanting answers for her death.” I slap her, and she spits at me. I slap her again, harder this time. “But she’s MY sister, and it’s MY crown to inherit, and you,” I point to all of them who are still watching, “you all need to remember who I AM again, before you talk back to me.” I take a pregnant pause. “How dare I?” I scream menacingly, my voice echoing in the eerily quiet graveyard. “Do you think that because I don’t have powers yet, I’m weaker than my sisters? Weaker than my grandmother?” I punch again, and she groans in despair. “Answer me!” My eyes feel heavy with rage and regret at not being able to save my sister or Gregory.
“No, Your Highness.”
I slap her repeatedly. “Ah! A change of heart, huh? Did you all hear that?” I lift my head and scan the faces of the people around us. Most of them horrified, some of them avert their eyes.It’s not enough. I need my pound of flesh. The voice inside my head demands as my bloodlust grows stronger by the minute. I yell out in anguish, pulling one of her arms from behind her and twisting her wrist until I hear it pop. She screams in pain and I giggle. “How about I kill you right here, right now? Make an example out of you? Make sure that everyone here knows I can just be as ruthless as my grandmother, maybe even more?” I grab her tear-stained face. She shakes her head immediately.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” She cries her eyes out while I laugh even harder.
“All of you! See what I’ll do the next time someone disrespects me.” I hit her repeatedly, blinded by rage and by sorrow.
“Your Highness, please. That’s enough.” I whip my head so fast in the direction of the voice and he cowers immediately.
That’s the reaction I’m looking for: fear. “I’ll kill you next,” I warn and the man looks down, immediately becoming silent and still. The woman beneath me sputters out apologies and pleas. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” I brag, unaware of who is moving closer to me.
“Isabela.” Immediately, I stop my attacks.Oh no.
“Queen Mother?”
“Child.” She appears before me regal and frightening as ever, porcelain skin glistening against the moonlit sky. “What are you doing?”
The rage in me still courses through my veins. “She disrespected me,” I reveal simply, gripping the face of the woman before me.
“Oh? What did she do?”
“Insinuated that I don’t care about Katya.” I grin before I continue. “And she openly defied royalty by telling me ‘How dare you.’” I snicker, slowly losing my mind over the absurdity of the situation.
“Please! My Queen! Please save me,” she begs. Aside from her whimpers, the silence stretches for a long while to the point that my grandmother might have me whipped to death. That is until I hear my grandmother cackling with delight.
“Continue, child. I shall watch.”