A Throne of Thorns, A Crown of Ice: Fates Defied

Part One: The Poisonous Flower and the Sword

The Empire of Sedonia

Lilla’s P.O.V.

The bright afternoon sunlight cast the Empire of Sedonia in a brilliant, glowing halo. Birds chirped happily in the trees or danced along the air currents. To the untrained eye, everything was right with the world—for who could comprehend that within such brilliant light, the shadows held the darkest secrets?

The cruelty unfolding inside this estate—a stark and hideous contrast to the grand visage the Moss family projected to society—would be a breathtaking sight to anyone outside these walls. I was certain that should anyone discover the reality of what occurred here, the gossips and backbiters would have a field day. There is almost a cruel irony in the saying that the hands raised to bless you in public are always the first to carve you up in secret.

My eyes tracked the birds’ flight path wishing I could be like them. Free. Free to soar the skies. Unbound by injustice and blood. My wishes, it would seem… would forever go unanswered. Of this I was certain. For my path is not one of freedom. I would be chained to the darkness by blood and force for the rest of my life.

Even as I stood staring up at the window that allowed the barest of light into my personal hell, I tracked the sound of the footsteps moving above me. The household had finally begun to stir. The evidence obvious in the way that the little trails of dust fell between the floorboards after each footfall. I turned back towards the window and continued to watch as the dust motes danced in the rays of light streaming into the basement window.

I only wanted but a moment of peace before I was forced to play the submissive punching bag again.  I could hardly suppress the shiver that ran down my spine. I could hear her coming. Mrs. Hattie. A woman I detested almost as much as she detested me. Of course, what these idiots didn’t understand was that all of this was a waiting game to me. I had plans. My brow furrowed at this because it was true. I did have plans. Big ones, but I was beginning to wonder how long I would be forced to wait. How long would I stand here listening to the world move around me? How long would I be forced to kneel and apologize for taking up space I never asked to occupy? This was my sixth year here and with each passing year, month, week, and day my odds of survival were dwindling. I may need to take action first, I thought as I heard the basement door open. A moment later footsteps followed and the usual cursing could be heard from beyond my sealed confines. She really did hate me for existing, and while I detested the woman just fiercely it wasn’t like I couldn’t sympathize. I mean, what servant wouldn’t take the opportunity to lash out at someone such as myself, especially since my situation was far below her own in this hellhole. My lips twisted into a sad humorless smile as I heard the keys jingle outside my door. I stepped away from the window, presenting myself in the appropriate manner as instructed by my wonderful stepmother.

“Lilla!” Called the shrill voice of the head maid, throwing my door open with an aggressive shove. “The madam has ordered you to present yourself for an accounting of your actions regarding the ball last night.!”

“Yes, Mrs. Hattie.” I said, making sure I bowed my head in respect and avoided visibly rolling my eyes.

I knew the drill. What was termed as an ‘accounting of my actions’ was in fact an opportunity to humiliate me. Given the time, they must have just finished breakfast. This wasn’t entirely normal…. And yet it was.  Especially on the heels of a social event where I had drawn attention to myself, though it’s not exactly like I wanted anyone's attention on me. Personally, I found it inconvenient. Normally, my father the illustrious Duke Moss would summon me and I would be forced to kneel on the dining room floor while my family ate breakfast. Not a word would be spoken to me until after and not a scrap of food would be given as it was deemed a waste of resources. So I would quietly kneel during breakfast and then listen to my ever growing list of wrongs and shortcomings. Father must have been called away before the house even roused itself, I thought.

The feeling of nails digging into my upper arm as I was jerked and shoved about brought my attention back to Mrs. Hattie and the stark reality of what was about to occur. In this house no one was lower than me. Even the servants had more freedom than I did. It was often the servants’, such as Mrs. Hattie, pleasure to lord their station over my head. Of course, I am not entirely alone. There were clear lines drawn between myself and those in this household, but I had already carved out a path of my own. One that none of these monsters know and yet I know its a path of death should those that follow me get discovered. That was currently my concern as I made eye contact with one of my people. I saw the jaw tighten and the eyes burning with rage. A very miniscule shake of my head and they froze. They needed to do better.  

“Honestly! I don’t know why she tolerates your existence! If you had been my husband’s bastard, I’d have drowned you like the rat you are!” She sneered venomously, as she dragged me by my arm up the stairs and down the hall towards my stepmother’s personal parlour.

Her fingernails dug into the skin of my upper arm leaving red crescent marks that I was sure would bruise before I even made it back to the safety of my room. I struggled to maintain my composure as she yanked and twisted roughly on my arm. Say nothing. Do nothing. I repeated the mantra in my head over and over as I followed like an obedient dog to my master. Her nails had probably already broken the skin at this point based on the stinging sensation that I currently felt.

“Well well well. Look who we have here.” My oldest brother Gabriel clapped sarcastically as I was shoved into the room and landed on all fours. “The Flower of Society has finally graced us with her precious presence.”

I hated that name. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, knowing that he was most likely trying to provoke me. I kept my head down cast as I bit my lips in frustration. Flower of Society my foot! I wanted nothing more than to crawl back to my room and scream but I needed things to go right. I couldn’t act out yet. I could feel his green eyes raking over me. He was once more evaluating my appearance. I could almost imagine the look on his face. The same as when I first arrived here. Displeasure at my existence, yet calculating my potential worth. I hated that look. The one that weighed everything on my appearance. It was a look that seemed to scream what could she possibly bring to this family when we sell her off like a pig to slaughter. I held no delusions that if left up to them that I would be married off to a good man. No. I would be sold to some disgusting monster that would kill me as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Why? Because even if I was out of this house I would still be a threat to Violetta and my three other sisters. Of course those fears were surprisingly accurate, even if not for the reason they assumed.

“I apologize for the delay, Lord Gabriel.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper and my face carefully schooled into that same blank and dull look I wore at social functions.

Unfortunately, the delay was anything but my fault. I was often locked in my room, a storage room in the basement, forced to exist in its dark confines until I was summoned. I could rarely leave of my own free will. Such moments were usually decided by my father. Given that I had been locked inside the room until a moment ago, it seems that someone had thrown a fit about my presence at the ball. 

“You know why you were summoned, right?” My stepmother, Duchess Rosaria Moss sneered from behind her fan as her eyes flashed with that same arrogant air of superiority she used when speaking to even the Empress.

“Yes, Duchess.” I said, remaining in the stance she preferred me to use in her presence.

“Then get to it.” She snapped, closing the fan in her hand harshly, making me jump.

I crawled to where my sister Violetta sat, sneering at me with disdain and delight. Each move I made caused my body to protest as the recently scabbed over wounds on my back began to stretch and pull apart with the barest of movements. The smell of blood filled the air and stained my clothes by the time I reached her. I lowered my head, touching my feverish forehead to the cold marble. Honestly, it was such a relief that I almost didn’t mind the pain. 

“I sincerely apologize.” I whispered, staying low to the ground and squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

“For what?” She demanded, tossing an elegantly coiffed red curl over her shoulder.

“For making a spectacle of myself and drawing the gaze of others.” I said, hatred flashing in my eyes and burning through my chest for the briefest of moments.

“And?” She snarled, grinding the heel of her shoe into my back.

I bit hard on my lips, drawing blood. “And for daring to exist in the first place.” I whispered hoarsely, fighting back the urge to scream in agony or end her life. Preferably the latter.

“Good.” She smiled smugly, removing her heel from my back. “You may go.”

I managed to crawl out of the parlour and into the hall. Once there, after a few moments of struggle I managed to make my way down the hall, past the servants quarters, and down the stairs to my room in the basement. Sweat beaded my brow and more than once I nearly fell down the stairs.

“Thank goodness…” I sighed, managing to finally make it to my room.

The moment the door closed behind me, my tears fell burning my cheeks with their warmth. It was a false comfort, one I refused to indulge in as I rang for my maid. I did not have to wait for long before I heard soft footsteps hesitantly approaching my door.

“My lady?’ Came a soft voice, following a hesitant knock.

“Come in, Beth.” I whispered, removing my stained dress.

“Oh goodness! My lady!” Beth nearly screamed at the sight of my back.

“Sh!” I warned with a glare.

“I’m sorry.” She said, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Let me clean you up and then you must rest.”

“No. We need to go.” I said, shaking my head and ignoring her frown of concern.

“At least…. Let me clean you up.” She begged. “The wounds are open and one of them appears to be…. Torn?” 

“Okay.” I said, relenting after a moment of silence.

“Why do they do this to you, my lady.” Beth asked as she wiped away a tear.

‘Beth, my only friend, I've warned you. You mustn’t show your fondness for me.” I quickly admonished. “Even when we are alone.”

“Sometimes, I cannot help it, my lady.” She whispered. “They treat you so horribly.”

The sound of the servants moving about above us kept me on edge. I was terrified and worried for Beth. After what happened to the last maid to befriend me…. My father had her entire family put to death and made me watch as she was raped in his brothel. I had to be careful because at even the slightest sign of fondness or friendship it would be ripped away from me. I had been wracked with guilt and shame before I discovered that the young girl had been ordered to befriend me.

It had all been planned by my stepmother to ensure that they had broken me. It had but not in how she had hoped. She had been utterly stupid assuming I was too naive and stupid to fight back. She intentionally informed me that the young girl had been ordered to befriend me and once I had grown close to her, they would punish her and her family. The moment I learned this I saw things more clearly and began to plan. I had remembered Beth from the brothel. Like so many of the children born at the brothel, her options had been limited but I had seen the intelligence behind her eyes. So I sought her out and I gave her a chance to change her life but there had to be rules. Do not befriend me. Do not show me any sympathy. Beth has frequently broken this rule… but the young girl with cinnamon hair that was only a few years younger than my own sixteen years of age had managed to wear me down despite my thorny attitude.This is for her own safety as well as my sanity.

“Prehaps you are right….” I murmured as I yawned.

“What about?” Beth asked, as she diligently attended to my wounds.

“I will rest a bit.” I murmured, drowsy with fever.

“Thank goodness.” She sighed in relief. “I will wake you in two hours.”

“Thank you, Beth.” I yawned, drifting into oblivion as Beth pulled a scratchy blanket over me.