Aira found herself confined within the cramped wooden room, reserved for errant servants, tucked away at the far end of the residence. The room with nothing but a ragged straw mat in a corner, barely softening the hard, unforgiving floor. The walls seeming to close in on her, suffocating her spirit with their oppressive presence. The absence of a window only intensifying the oppressive atmosphere.
Lying on the straw mat, it felt more like a bed of thorns, its sharp edges digging into her tender flesh, tormenting her with each restless shift. Hunger pangs twisting in her stomach as the small piece of bread and the jug of water were barely enough to satisfy her and quench her thirst. She huddled in the other corner of the room, resting her head on her knees and closed her eyes, trying to seek solace in her sleep, but the agony coursing through her body refusing to subside.
Her mind, too, becoming a battleground of anguish. Memories of that night and the Gazebo whirling around in a chaotic dance crushing her spirit. And it was so for three days, the darkness around her seeming to grow, mirroring the darkness that had engulfed her soul, turning her into a wilted flower.
The door creaking open, one of the guards yelled, "Lady Aira, your grandmother requests your presence in the courtyard."
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Zara always heard that mothers were like lionesses known for their fierce protection and nurturing instincts towards their children, often going to great lengths to ensure their safety and health. And as she stood there, held by the guard, watching helplessly as her sister kowtowed seven times at Shomari to apologise. And seven more times to the family who had sat in the courtyard for bringing shame and dishonouring the family, she wondered.
If our mother was alive, would she have allowed such injustice to happen to Aira?
What about Father? Will he believe Aira over his beloved son and have him pay for what he did?
After kowtowing, Aira moved to the middle of the courtyard. Her steps heavy and sluggish, arms hanging limp and head held down.
Kneeling, she put a white cloth in her mouth, her stepmother's maidservant standing beside her with a bamboo clapper in her hand.
"Grandmother, please," Zara pleaded, trying to break free. "Don't do this. She is still not fully recovered."
"Grandmother, please, she already apologised to the whole family. Show her mercy."
Their grandmother didn't even bother looking in Zara's direction, signalling the maidservant to begin.
"Fine, grandmother. I will receive the lashes on her behalf."
"Why don't you worry about yourself," their stepmother replied, referring to the twenty whips Zara had received for hurting her son. But she didn't care about the wounds on her back. Even with open bleeding back, she would still take the lashes for Aira.
"Shut up! I was talking to grandmother, not you."
The stepmother rolled her eyes and signalled the maidservant to go ahead.
When the first lash hit Aira's back with vigour, she felt like her back had split open. But she didn't dare to scream. The next lash harder than the other, tears falling down her face.
On the eighth lash, Zara managed to slip from the relaxed grip of the guard, running, holding the bamboo clapper before it fell on Aira's back.
"If you try to hit her again, I will kill you."
"Take her away," the grandmother yelled at the guard. But Zara wrapped her arms around her sister's neck. "No, I won't let you hurt her."
"Beat both of them!" the grandmother ordered, and the maidservant brought the bamboo clapper down on Zara's back, who felt her fresh wound open in her skin but gritted her teeth to suppress the scream that threatened to escape her lips, meeting Aira's gaze with a pained smile.
And as each lash landed on their backs, their gazes intertwined in a shared understanding, a silent pact that they would face the beating together, drawing strength from each other, as they whispered words of encouragement to each other, their voices barely above the breath.
The pain dissolving in the background turning into something distant yet palpable.
Shomari's heart clenched with every lash that struck Aira's back, and when he couldn't bear it anymore, he stood from his chair and rushed to her, snatching the bamboo clapper from the maidservant and throwing it to the ground.
"That's enough!"
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Walking into Aira's room, Zara's heart sank seeing the plate of the untouched food on her study table, a stark contrast to the Aira she knew, who always stuffed her mouth with food. Still lying in the same foetal position she had left her since morning, facing the wall.
For the past week, she helplessly watched as her sister slowly faded away, inch by inch, disconnecting from the world and turning into a ghost trapped in her own torment, a monochromatic existence of sorrow and despair replacing the vibrant colours that adorned her life. And she didn't know how to bring her back from the abyss that wanted to swallow her whole.
"Aira, why don't you eat something?"
"I…am…not…hungry."
Zara's voice filled with desperation. She pleaded, "Just a few spoons, Aira. Please."
"I…want…to…be…alone."
Zara sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hand on her shoulder.
"How can I leave you alone in this state?"
"Please."
"But…"
"Please."
Tears welled up in her eyes. Zara reluctantly stood from the bed, not wanting to leave but respecting her wish regardless, settling outside the door, her own anguish mirrored in her slumped posture and trembling hands. Each tear from her eyes rousing a fresh swell of hatred and anger towards Shomari, vowing to make him one day understand how it felt to have his life ruined.
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Shomari staggered into his mother's room, looking haggard and careworn as he had been drinking from the night before. His messy hair hastily tied in a bun, matching the disarray in his thoughts, the dark circles clinging to his weary eyes, and his crumpled clothes mirroring the turmoil within him.
His mother, who was standing at the dressing table, putting accessories in her hair, rushed to him, and he grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. "Mother, please save Aira. She is not eating or drinking anything. She lies in bed, not speaking to anyone, and it's all my fault. Mom, please save her."
She pushed his hands off her shoulders and slapped him across the face. "Shut your mouth! What if someone hears you!"
"But it's all my fault. Aira wouldn't be like this, If I didn't express my love for her that night."
"Shut up!" His mother said, holding her hand over his mouth. "How can you say you are in love with your sister?"
"Yes, I love her. And if you don't help her, I will tell the whole family what I did." Shomari threatened, hoping to sway his mother.
His mother sighed, seeing no point in arguing with him and nodded. "Fine, I will help her."
"Thank you, Mother." He hugged and kissed her forehead. "You are the best."
He left the room, feeling relieved.
His mother turned to her maidservant. "Tell my brother to come and see me!"
She bowed. "Yes, my lady."