rope secured to the saddle and a soldier standing with sword drawn. At my signal, they would know exactly what to do.
“Do you realize,” I asked as I leaned over her, “exactly what will happen to you if I command the horses to run?”
Whitney’s eyes widened for a moment.
“They…they could not,” she said. Her voice was already strained. “Branford…they cannot do that with me tied to them!”
“Yes,” I said to her, “they can. They are far, far stronger than your weak and useless limbs. You will be torn into pieces.”
“You cannot do that,” she whispered. For the first time, I saw tears form in the corners of her eyes. “You cannot possibly do that, Branford. I’m a royal…you…you love me…”
“There is nothing royal about you,” I said. “The only fond memory I have of you is spilling my seed on your leg, and taking your purity was transient and meaningless to me. Now tell me where you have hidden my wife.”
Whitney narrowed her eyes again, and she lashed out at me with her shrill voice.
“You wife!” She snorted in disgust. “She is no more your wife than I am a commoner! I am your wife! You just never wanted to admit it! I became your wife that summer when you first took me! She is nothing—nothing! I am your everything ! I will carry all of your children, Branford! You know that is how it is supposed to be!”
“You are delusional,” I said with a gruff laugh.
“You would call me delusional? You are the one who is obviously mad! Who else besides a lunatic ignores his duty and marries common trash?”
I flinched as I felt my throat tighten. I gripped my hands into fists as I moved in closer to her.
“You will never speak of Alexandra in such a way again,” I said with absolute certainty. “And I assure you I am quite, quite mad. Tell me where she is.”
“You will not dare harm me,” she whispered, though I could see in her eyes she no longer believed her own words. “We are meant to be together…”
I tilted my head to one side and then ran my hand through my hair. I sighed heavily and rubbed the fingers of my free hand into my eye sockets before I took out my sword, lay it across Whitney’s belly, and slowly cut into first her dress and then her skin. She gasped, tilted her head back and let out a long, anguished wail as she writhed in pain. I sheathed my sword and pried open the cut with my fingers.
“Where is she?” I screamed one final time. The horses started slightly, and Whitney cried out as the ropes were pulled tight, stretching her limbs. She looked up at me in disbelief, anger, and pain.
“She is in Sterling Castle!” Whitney finally cried out through her tears. “She is surrounded by guards, and I hope they have ruined her for you!”
I took a handful of steps close to her and leaned over her face.
“Swear on your life?” I asked.
“Yes!” She growled back up at me. There was no lie in her eyes.
“Good,” I murmured. I rose and called out to the four men who stood at the flanks of the horses with swords in hand. “Now!”
Each man held his sword high before bringing the flat edge down on the horse’s rump. The horses whinnied, stamped, and ran. The ropes tightened, pulled to the very end of each of Whitney’s limbs, and then tore them from her body.
Her screams did not stop for some time as she lay there on the ground, armless and legless. The blood flowed from the holes in her body and into the dry grass of the field. I approached her, and her glassy eyes gazed at me. Blood trickled from the edge of her lips.
“Alexandra is far more than you could have ever been,” I told her though I could not swear her dying torso could comprehend my words. “She is the true royal. You are nothing. You were always nothing to me.”
I turned away and motioned to Erik to bring Romero to me. I quickly stepped up and threw one leg over the saddle before I
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