The Half-Class by Kayvion Lewis

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lady Kaya let out a nervous laugh.

“What is this, my king?” Sir Percy clenched her arm and pulled her close.

King Dreux strolled in front of us, soaking up every drop of apprehension radiating from his audience.

“Two days ago, an officer was attacked on a trail near the West end. Someone bashed his head in with a rock. It was brutal, unlikely the poor man will survive.” He waved over a set of servants, who brought over a thick horsewhip and a long cloth. “But the assailants were quite clumsy. They forgot to take their papers back from the man’s hand.” He glanced back to Brison and Richal.

My skin went cold. How could we have been so careless? None of us even thought to pick up the papers. It had been the last thing I was worried about.

Did he have mine too?

No. I relaxed, but only a little. The man had given them back to me, right before he ushered me away to that tree. I was safe.

“I was going to have them killed,” King Dreux said. “Publicly. But then I thought to myself, ‘we have to be better than those murderous rebels,’ which I assume these two were working for. But that being said, they still need to be punished.”

Richal’s chest heaved against the post, and Brison’s legs quivered under him. I was guessing which was which. As much as I strained, I couldn’t tell them apart. With only their backs to me, they were the same.

“How do you know he didn’t just find those papers?” I blurted out. “Or that your officers didn’t plant them?” It was thin. It was desperate. But I had to say something.

The king scoffed. “My officers don’t lie to me. They know better.” He dropped the roll of the whip, letting its tail unravel to the grass. “And as if I needed confirmation, these two were trying to flee town just this evening. They put up quite the fight when they were discovered, as guilty people tend to do.”

“Or the wrongly accused!” My chest shook. Why was he doing this? Was he just this sadistic?

“Evie.” Cass grabbed my arm, but I yanked it out of his grasp.

King Dreux grimaced. As if my shunning Cass was a slight on him too.

“Why are you so concerned, Miss Evelyn?” The king asked. “Bexbury is such a small place compared to Aurell, or anywhere of significance for that matter. You wouldn’t happen to know these two, would you?”

It was me. That’s why he was doing this. He suspected I was working with the rebels.

“I don’t know them,” I sputtered without thinking, desperate to put distance between myself and the connection. “I just have a difficult time believing that two boys would, or even could, successfully attack any of your officers.”

“And I was shocked to discover that of all the girls that could have worked their way into my son’s attention, it just so happened to be a half-class. I suppose Morra is just full of unbelievable things.”

This was my test. The only way to eliminate me as a rebel in his eyes. I could defend the twins and prove myself guilty, forfeiting everything I’d come to learn and likely my own life in the process, or play along and prove myself innocent for the time being. After all, what kind of comrade would watch as their fellow fighters, their family, was ripped apart in front of them?

I would. I’d have to.

Or I’d soon be up there too. And I couldn’t let that happen to me.

The skin on my own back pricked up. I’d never been more conscious of it. I took a shaky breath, feeling my muscles slashed into threads already. I’d never felt fear so potent or been so protective of my own skin.

I clutched the fabric of my skirt. The king smiled smugly, quite pleased with my submission.

“Who wants to play first?” he asked, offering the whip to his captive audience. “This will likely be a short game, so only a couple will get to play.”

No one stepped up. Donnie looked the worst of all. His entire head was bowed to the grass.

The king grew more irritated every second that passed without a volunteer.

“Someone’s going to get the hell up here,” he snapped. “Whether it’s here or on another post.”

“I’ll play,” a voice at the edge of our group said. Lady Lilith held her head high and glided across the grass to the king’s side. Donnie didn’t react at all, only stepping back as his mother drifted past him. “How do we play?”

“It’s simple.” The king placed the whip in her hands and unfolded the cloth between his fingers. She flinched as he secured it tightly around her eyes. “I will aim you.” He grabbed her shoulders and walked her towards the post to the right. “And you will snap.”

The air thickened. Like dense mud had filled my lungs, weighing down each breath I took. I couldn’t move.

King Dreux took a step back from his player. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Lady Lilith nodded shakily and pulled back her arm...and I did nothing.

Snap.

The whip sliced through the air. Richal—I think it was Richal—whimpered. The tail nicked his shoulder. The end of the leather was so thin, not half the width of the thickest part, but it cut through his skin like butter, leaving a distinct slash in his shirt.

All the color drained from the world. Everything except for the color red, which dripped from Richal’s shoulder. I blinked my eyes rapidly., trying to bring back all the other colors. Would I ever be able to see anything besides crimson?

“Close, Lady Lilith,” the king said.

Lady Lilith stood blindly as he adjusted her.

“Aim a little more to the right this time.”

My breath hitched. A hand grabbed mine, and I clutched it for dear life.

King Dreux stepped away.

Lady Lilith pulled her arm back again.

I could feel the king’s eyes burning into me, but mine remained on the post.

The whip cracked again.

I clenched my fist. My nails dug into my palm.

A gash slit across his shoulder. It sliced down the edge of his back. Crimson red poured over his arm, painting his torn shirt and trembling back. He wailed through whatever cloth had been stuffed into his mouth.

I felt blood drip from my own hand; I clenched it so tight.

I was watching this…and I was doing nothing.

King Dreux clapped his hands together. “Much improved, Lady Lilith, but you can do better.”

Lady Lilith didn’t dare remove her blindfold, even as Richal’s wailing turned into sobs, and the king positioned her once again.

He tightened her fingers around the whip and pointed her straight towards the post. “Again please, my Lady.”

Lady Lilith let out a shaky breath. Her hand shook as she pulled her arm back for the third time. I gripped Cass’s hand with both of mine.

She cracked the whip forward.

Richal screamed into the cloth. A perfect line ripped across the meat of his back. I swear I could see a piece of his spine. Blood gushed out over his shirt. His twin shook violently against his post. I wished I could tell them apart for sure. I wished I could see their eyes. I wished I could untie them and spirit them away. I wished I could tell them I was so sorry. I wished I was smart enough to figure out a way to end this. I wished I was brave enough to move.

I wished I wasn’t so selfish.

King Dreux laughed and clapped. “A true markswoman.”

Lady Lilith dropped the whip and tore back the blindfold. She stumbled back at the sight, but Donnie lurched forward to balance her. She left the whip on the grass and retreated back to the group. Her face was completely emotionless, her eyes cold and empty.

The twins were going to die. They were literally bleeding out, right in front of me. While I stood here, squeezing this hand for dear life and watching it happen. Doing nothing, once again.

King Dreux retrieved the whip from the grass. “Who’s next?”

“Wait!” I cried. My voice trembled. The survivor in me told me to shut up, but if I didn’t say something now, then…

I deserved to die.

“Is—is this really the best course of action?”

The king stepped towards me. His eyes, his dull, cold eyes, linked to mine. It wasn’t fair that I could see his eyes, but not Richal and Brison’s. None of anything he did was fair.

His fingers tightened around the whip. Would he lift it to me next? Had he made his verdict about me? Would Cass and the rest only stand here and watch while I faced the same fate as the twins?

“Are you objecting, Miss Evelyn?”

“No,” my voice quivered, “only critiquing.” What was I doing? I was speaking to an immovable party and sounding less loyal by the second. I should just shut up. It was too late to save the twins. Why was I risking myself?

I silenced those weak thoughts and forced myself to stand firm. Even if my legs were shaking while I did so.

“And what is there to critique?” the king asked.

I swallowed. “You’ve already maimed one of them,” I said calmly, “You mentioned before that you were going to kill them publicly, probably to send a message to the rebels, I’m guessing. But sending back two boys on their deathbed isn’t going to do anything but egg them on. You’ll make them both martyrs and ignite the cause even further. But if you send them back as they are now, with one of them unharmed, then you’ll confuse them. Hell, some of them might even call you merciful for leaving one of two alleged murderers unharmed. You’ve already done enough to make your point about the consequences of attacking officers, but anything more will incite more retaliation than obedience.”

I tried to maintain my composure. It had to sound desperate, but it made sense. The more he did to Brison and Richal, the more Gilow and the rest were going to want revenge. This was to his benefit.

The king furrowed his brow. Was he actually considering my proposal?

“I agree with Evelyn,” Cass said suddenly. “It’d be best not to fan the flames of this rebellion.”

King Dreux’s eyes loomed over his son. Though he spoke with conviction, Cass was unnaturally still. I had a feeling that he’d risked a lot defending me, but he didn’t take it back.

His father watched us for an eternity. We made an unyielding pair, but it was only us. No one from the court added their support. Not even Donnie.

The king’s hardened gaze faded into something softer. “Perhaps you two have a point. Inflicting the same punishment of both twins would be a little redundant.”

The tension in my muscles melted. It was over. It was done.

“So let us finish with this one and be done with it.”

My eyes flew from the king to Richal. No, he couldn’t. He’d had enough.

The king shoved the whip into my hands. My stomach clenched. My heart went cold. “I’ll let that other little boy leave unharmed if you finish punishing that other one.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“You can,” the king grabbed my arm and ripped me from Cass’s side.

“Father, this isn’t necessary,” Cass pleaded.

“Be quiet!”

He dragged me ahead of the group, nearer to the post than Lady Lilith had been. “This was your idea, so you should be the one to execute it. That’s fair, is it not?”

The leather quivered in my hands. “I—"

“Why are you so hesitant?” He grabbed my shoulder and spoke directly into my ear. “You don’t know them, yes? This should mean nothing.”

My head jerked. The king threw the blindfold over my eyes and knotted it behind me. His hand dropped to my neck. I stumbled into him as he yanked me back.

“Don’t go easy on them. Do it, or I’ll end them both.”

“Father, this is insane!” I could hear Cass drawing nearer, but everything was black behind the blindfold. “Let me do it, please.”

“Your Majesty,” Sir West’s voice shuddered. The first interference from the court. But neither he nor Cass could sway King Dreux.

“Not another word,” the king said. “Or I might lose my generosity. And my hospitality.”

No one else would counter him. No one was going to save me. No one was going to save Richal. Who was it? Brison or Richal? I didn’t even know who it was. Whose skin, muscles, bones did he want me to tear open?

The king aimed me toward the unseen target, squeezing my fingers around the whip. My grip was slick on the leather.

“We’re waiting,” he said.

I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

My chin trembled.

I had to, or they would both die. One life versus two. Wasn’t that something Gilow would tell me? Yes, that’s exactly what he would say. I couldn’t let both of them go through this. One of them had to make it out.

Under the cloth, I squeezed my eyes shut. Shaking, I pulled my arm back. I had to.

I thrust the whip forward. My snap was weak. The slap against his back was barely anything. Nothing compared to the harshness Lady Lilith had struck with. But still, I whimpered at the sound and waited for the agonizing scream. Had I even broken the skin?

“Terrible,” King Dreux said. The chill in my chest rippled through my veins as he straightened me. “Again. Actually try this time.”

I had to really do it. If I didn’t, someone else would, with less consideration than I. With a sharp breath, I jerked my arm back and snapped the whip again. I couldn’t help it. My crack was hard, but I missed my target entirely. The whip slashed into the grass.

The king huffed. “You might be the worst markswoman I’ve ever seen.”

“I can’t see,” I mumbled.

The king tore the blindfold from my eyes. The cloth rippled to the grass. My eyes blinked back open, settling right on the target before me, his back completely drenched in blood now. The king pushed me closer to him. The king pushed me closer to him. He was only a few steps before me now, and I could see his chest heaving and his legs shaking beneath him. And still, I wasn’t sure if this boy was my bold, brave Brison or my clever, soft Richal.

“One more chance,” the king warned me. “Don’t miss.”

This was my last chance. I couldn’t falter now. He was right in front of me, and the king was too close to taking both of their lives. I had to do it. I had to do it now. My hands gripped the leather, my eyes hardened.

Do it, Evelyn. You’re not hurting him; you’re saving the other.

My thoughts took on Gilow’s voice.

You’re not doing this—the king is.

Do it.

I raised my arm high overhead. All eyes burned into me. Everything was hinged on this—more than one life, more than me, the mission, or my family.

Everything.

And I...

I couldn’t do it.

A hand wrapped around mine. Cass tugged my arm back. Together, we sent a strong, hard crack straight into our target. A long, bloody slash cut across his back, ripping him from the corner of this neck all the way down to his hips.

Blood gushed out over his shirt. A moan bellowed from his muffled mouth. This gash was worse than all the rest. He went silent and collapsed down the post as his body went limp. Part of me was grateful that consciousness had been ripped from him if only so I didn’t have to hear his screams.

I dropped the whip, and Cass pulled me back into his arms.

Somehow, looking at his torn, mutilated back and seeing the blood flow into the grass under him, I finally could tell him from his brother. I knew who we had done this to. The one who hadn’t even done anything.

Brison.

“A perfect slash,” the king said. “If only it had been entirely your own.” His eyes cut over my shoulder into Cass. He stepped in front of me, putting himself between me and Brison’s unconscious body. Cass held most of my weight, the only thing keeping me from collapsing. The king cupped my neck. I flinched under his chilly skin. Please, let it be done.

“Good enough, I suppose.” He lifted my trembling hand and brought it up to his lips. his kiss felt like pure darkness seeping into my skin. “Take those two back to the town,” he called to one of the guards as he dropped my hand and strode away from Cass and me. “That concludes our evening.”

“I want to go home,” I murmured.

Cass continued to hold me. “I’ll order a carriage.”

“No, you’ll stay here,” King Dreux called back to us. “It’s too late, and I’m sure Cassian wants you to stay the night. A servant will turn a room for you.”

Of course, he wouldn’t let me leave. He must have wanted to torment me as much as possible. If Brison was the test of my loyalty, then this was the reminder that I was here to please his son and nothing else.

The court parted. The king passed through them, then disappeared into the castle.

Donnie stared woefully at me. A lifetime wouldn’t have been enough to recite all the apologies in his eyes. Why did he feel sorry? Because he, like the rest, had done nothing? He took his mother’s arm, and they drifted back into the castle.

Cass pulled me towards the castle as the court trickled in ahead of us, entrapped in silence, leaving Brison and Richal to the mercy of the guards.

But I was stuck here for the rest of the night—in this castle, with this king.

With myself.