Valeria's sobs tore through the silence of the room as she dry heaved, her body convulsing after she'd emptied the last remnants of her stomach. She felt hollow, raw—and then, suddenly, there was a sharp tug on her scalp. She gasped as a hand gripped her hair, yanking her forward until she was face-to-face with Gloria's corpse. Her hands hit the stone floor, splashing into the warm pool of blood as she lost her balance.
"Do you see this?" the king's voice hissed beside her ear, his tone as cold and cutting as steel. "This is what happens when you disobey me. The people you care about will pay the price. So be a good girl from now on, understood?"
Valeria couldn't respond; her throat felt sealed shut, her body frozen in terror. She could only stare at Gloria's lifeless form, her mind screaming that this was her fault. Gloria died because of me. And Selena… She choked back another wave of nausea. Selena was handed over to that revolting man because of me.
The king's grip in her hair tightened, his fingers twisting cruelly until fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. He shoved her face even closer to the bloodied remains, forcing her to confront her guilt.
"Did I make myself clear?" he demanded, his voice slicing through the numbness like a blade.
With trembling hands, Valeria nodded, tears dripping onto the blood-stained floor. Satisfied, he released her, and she collapsed fully into the pool of blood, her knees buckling beneath her as her shaking intensified. She could barely breathe, her chest heaving as panic clawed its way up her throat.
"Take her to her room," the king ordered the guards. "And make sure no one enters until I allow it."
Valeria barely registered the words before rough hands clamped around her arms, hauling her to her feet. She barely managed a broken whisper. "No… wait… She deserves a burial…"
No one answered. Her plea was frail and broken, lost to the silence outside. She felt her legs drag beneath her as the guards escorted her through the long, cold corridors, her skirts and hands soaked with Gloria's blood, leaving dark crimson smears in her wake. The weight of her dress, heavy with the soaked-in blood, pulled her down, grounding her in this awful reality. The horror of what had happened clung to her like a dark fog, yet it all felt distant—surreal, like she might wake from this nightmare at any moment.
But when the guards threw her into her chambers, her heart sank. The door slammed shut behind her, followed by the sound of the lock turning. Alone now, the reality of what had just transpired struck her fully, with the weight of a thousand stones.
Valeria stared down at her hands, still slick and sticky with blood. Gloria's blood. Her head swam, her breathing shallow and ragged. She had to get it off. Now.
She stumbled towards the bathroom, nearly tripping over herself in her desperation, only to find a single small basin with a paltry amount of water. The sight sent a fresh wave of panic through her. There was no full tub, no warmed water waiting for her. Gloria would usually prepare her bath… but Gloria was gone.
Her skin crawled under the blood, itching and burning as though it were searing her flesh. She rushed back into her room, her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps as she pressed her bloodstained hands against the door. Blood smeared across the wood, leaving grotesque imprints.
"I—I need water! Please… please, I need it off!" Her voice broke as she gasped, her plea hanging in the silence. She knew the guards were stationed right outside. She could feel their presence, yet they remained silent, ignoring her desperate cries.
Her breathing grew quicker, more erratic. She tugged at her blood-matted hair, the itch beneath the stains unbearable. She pounded her fists against the door, unaware that she was hitting so hard her knuckles had begun to bruise and bleed, her own blood mingling with Gloria's. "Please… I'm begging you! Open the door! I'll do anything!"
Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, sobbing. Still, no one answered.
"I just need some water…" she whispered, her voice barely audible now. She slammed her fists against the door until her fingers were raw and aching, her vision blurring with black spots. Her breaths came in frantic gasps, each one shallower than the last.
She heard a faint noise outside the door, as if someone were considering opening it. Her heart leapt, but the noise faded, leaving her alone once more.
"Why… please…" Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a breath.
Her vision blurred as she frantically scratched at her bloodied hands and forearms, desperate to remove the evidence of her guilt. The sharp, metallic scent of blood filled her senses, overpowering everything else. Gloria's blood felt as if it were seeping into her skin, staining her down to her very soul—a permanent mark of the lives she'd destroyed. Her chest tightened as she clawed at her skin, feeling as though the walls themselves were pressing in, suffocating her.
Her vision darkened, her gasps cutting off as the room spun around her. She barely registered the sound of her own desperate sobs before everything faded into blackness, and she collapsed to the floor.