I didn't know what time it was when the door opened to the little room. I just knew that the Count stood there with a candelabra in his hand and a wicked grin on his face. He stepped forward, closing the door as he ventured to the bed stand to set the source of light down. "Strip," he ordered. My eyes widened a bit as he pulled a whip from his belt and I bit my lip.
This wasn't any sort of reward but how was this new? This is what this room was for and I knew that. He slowly started to take off the dress, my back turned to the man I called my husband. The scars that littered my skin were jagged and rough as one went over the other. Some parts couldn't be saved and they had left permanent indents in my skin.
"What time is it," I asked. My voice stayed deceptively even as the Count hummed.
"About a day," he replied. The dress at this point was on the floor, looked around my feet in a heap of fabric. "I know I told you about your hair before, Helga."
I flinched and carefully undid the bun as his footsteps came closer, "A day already?"
"You must be used to this room," the Count chuckled softly. "I believe a divorce is in order."
"A what-" the whip whistles and as I turned my head it was forced the other way. The familiar warmth slid down my cheek as the gash burned and it drove a cry out of my chest. He laughed a bit before grabbing my hair and turning my head so that he could see.
"Oh dear," he chuckled. "It's bad enough a divorce drives men away. Now your only good quality is ruined, Helga. We've talked about turning around, haven't we?" There was no remorse in his voice and there never had been. "Why did you invite the emperor?"
"I invited him to bring you a stronger connect," his thumb dig into the gash and I grit my teeth.
"I'm not your family, Helga. I don't have the same luxury your kiss-ass father does," the Count's voice was cold as his finger dug in more. "You're such an embarrassment."
-.-.-.-
I couldn't breath without the pain, my back wrapped tightly by bandages underneath the overly-tightened corset and many layers of fabric. The Count stood next to me just outside the throne room, the marble walls adding to the cold that chilled me to the bone. "You need a good enough reason for this divorce," he hummed softly. "And nothing too personal, yes?"
"You're the one who wants," I stopped speaking as the doors opened. The look in my fathers eyes made the graying hair seem grayer. There was confusion and worry in his expression as blue eyes took me in fully. He hadn't seen me since the marriage as the Count hated when I invited family to any event we held. I dreaded the reality of what he saw; I let him down in letting any of what happened go on with the Count.
"Helga," he barely got my name out as chairs were scooted across the stone floors and Emperor Arkasha slammed his scepter against the arm rest of his chair.
"Enough pleasantries, Sir Holland. We are here to discuss the divorce petition Lady Farkas sent in," he sighed. The Count pulled me along as I bowed my head to my father. "Take a seat, Lady Farkas. You look deader than the rat the stables boy caught this morning." I winced but too the seat, pressing my back against it before flinching forward.
This ordeal was becoming humiliating as my father stood to the Emperor's left. What had I done wrong? "What happened to your face," I looked up to the Emperor and blinked as my hand went to the stitching. I had done it myself in the mirror as I had done many times before to other parts of my body.
"She attempted suicide and I had to fight her for the knife," the Count replied.
"I don't want lies, Count," the Emperor snapped. The Count flinched back, his eyes wide. My eyes widened as well as the Emperor stepped down from his throne and began stepping forward. "That isn't the cut of a knife and we all know it isn't."
"My daughter isn't suicidal," my father added quickly.
"We have never invited you over because of such things," the Count bowed low as the Emperor stopped in front of me. For nobles, it was customary, a law even, that any divorce went through the Emperor, even to get married. It helped him keep track of who was who and where they went. I wish I could die right now instead of sit here with the shame this would bring. I was pulled forward gently and I winced, the Emperor stopping his motions and releasing his grip.
"Is this the reason for the divorce," he asked. I stared up at him, the amber subtly glowing in my eyes as I grit my teeth.
"I just wish to be with my family again, under my own house's name," I replied. The Emperor stared for a long moment before sighing and walking back to the throne. He sat there and stared, putting his chin in his palm as he studied the Count and I.
"It's a poor reason for this divorce," he finally said. "You're wasting my time with this." I wanted to scream. This was a golden opportunity to leave, to return home. I couldn't say anything though. If I did, the Count would be fined or imprisoned if he couldn't pay the fine and the only one between us who had remotely enough money for that was me. All the money I saved from reducing servants and selling off what we didn't need would be taken and used by him before the divorce went through.
I'd have nothing to my name.
"Forgive us, your highness, my wife just wouldn't cease her actions if I hadn't promised to go through with this," the Count was trying to save himself the very thing he was putting me through. Painting himself to be the good man with the crazy wife to gain pity and mercy.
"I won't allow it unless there's a better reason," there were so many reasons and one of them was now on my face. I flinched as the Count placed his hand on my back none too gently before leaning to my height.
"See, darling," he cooed, "I told you this wouldn't work." I could see the frustration boiling in his eyes and I wanted to throw up.
I stood up slowly and fixed my skirts, giving a curtsy, "Thank you for your time, your highness. It was very kind of you and my husband to humor me with this." From there, we had been dismissed.
-.-.-.-
Week after week it was the same thing and week after week the count renewed the gashes on my back and cut open the stitches on my face. I hadn't seen the light unless it was to return to the courts. I felt ragged, broken down and useless. I didn't know what the Count was doing or who was taking care of the estate while I was in that room with nothing but my petticoat. The door opened once again and I stood up. The Count stood with a shaken Lady Caitlin in the doorway, a knife in Caitlin's hand. I froze and stumbled as I tried to stay in a sturdy stance.
"I'm tired of this, Helga," the Count sighed softly. "Caitlin, you know what we talked about, sweetheart." Caitlin looked up at him and it took her a minute to gain some resolve before she stepped towards me.
"Jeremy, I don't know about this though," she muttered. It didn't stop her from walking forward, the knife shaking in her grip.
"Spare my heart. Please," the Count was smiling, even as his voice sounded like he was begging to be freed. That's what sent the knife forward and I gasped. My mind became muddled as my knees hit the floor. How was this okay and how was he going to get away with all of this? I found it ironic as I began to worry for Caitlin.
She was young, I realized as I looked up at her. She didn't know what was good for her and she had fallen in love just as I had. I closed my eyes as she caught me, a small smile of relief on my face as she began to panic. At least I wouldn't have to hear the whip or feel it's sting any longer. I wouldn't have to be placed in this dark room nor would I have to worry if I took a wrong step again.
The steel of a cold blade was familiar to me from sparring with my brothers as I felt the knife. Of course, it had never gone so deep into my skin nor had it been anywhere vital like now but it was familiar. I wouldn't have to be bedded by the Count again, or shamed for doing the duties that came with being a Countess. This was the end for me and it was more of a relief than I thought death would be. I could be free.
I felt my body shift and I felt the scratch of the wool around me. I was too weak to move to relieve myself of the discomfort anyways. It was warm and then suddenly it was cold and I couldn't breath. Whatever the liquid was, it clogged my ears and tried to fill my lungs as I held my breath. I was moving quickly and recklessly, no one holding my body as it beat against object after object.
And then it suddenly stopped. My movement wasn't so quick and I could feel cold air hit my face. Maybe this was my soul and I was on the current of death's river. I didn't want to open my eyes to check as the slow motion lulled my farther into the blackness.