Chapter 8 : Punishment

3 1 0
                                    

Clave was lying on the bed in her servant's room, thinking back to the morning of her meeting with Noah, Duke Arthur's son. As soon as she'd heard that he was related to the man who'd made her his servant, she'd left in a flash. It had been several hours since she had passed him in the corridor, but his face was imprinted on her mind, and had been all day while she had been doing her chores.

She hugged her shabby, dusty pillow and curled up on her little bed. No matter how exhausted she was, she couldn't get to sleep. It was only much later that she finally closed her eyes.

In her sleep, she opened her eyes in the white emptiness, so familiar, so silent. She began to panic, and thought she was back in that place, but then she heard a voice, at once familiar and unfamiliar.

- Remember... You must... Remember..., whispered a soft voice.

"Please let me wake up, Clave said inwardly. Come on!"

She woke up suddenly and hit her back on the stone floor. She had fallen out of bed while dreaming. Her gaze fell on the clock, which was already showing six o'clock in the morning. But she still had to do the washing and prepare breakfast.

She jumped to her feet, and as she was already dressed in her maid's outfit, a long black tunic and a dirty white apron, she dashed off down the corridor, where she bumped into Catherine.

– What are you doing here, Cath? This isn't the servants' hall, though..., asked Clave.

– What's it to you? I've come to get you, you're late, replied the red-haired maid calmly.

– I noticed that!

– Don't panic like that. I did the washing for you. And the other servants didn't even notice you weren't here..., explained Catherine.

– Oh... Thank you so much!

– You're welcome. But you'll owe me something in return.

– Like what? asked Clave, lowering her shoulders.

– I don't know... We'll see when the time comes. Come on, Sir Arthur's waiting for you.

Clave stifled a small hiccup of surprise and clamped her hand over her mouth. She hoped she wouldn't be punished for oversleeping... A lump of anxiety and apprehension began to form in her throat.

– You seem to be particularly important to him..., remarked Catherine.

– Ah, you think so? asked the blonde hesitantly.

The ginger stared at the young girl in front of her for a moment, then shrugged.

– I've got the feeling, anyway...

She took the maid's arm and led her down the corridor. This reminded Clave of the moment when Duke Arthur had freed her from the emptiness she had just dreamed of.

A few minutes later, the two girls arrived at the door of the Duke's personal salon, two weeks after Catherine had first taken Clave there. They knocked and a voice, which the young servant would recognise in a thousand words, ordered them to enter. Catherine pushed open the heavy wooden door. Duke Arthur was waiting for them in the centre of the room, which was just as dark as the last time.

– Come, he said to Clave in a voice that did not augur well for her.

After giving Catherine one last look, the young girl stepped forward, unsure of herself. She noticed the whip on the Duke's belt and began to panic. She really didn't feel like being punished after such a short time here.

"Please... I haven't done anything wrong," she pleaded inwardly.

– I noticed you weren't here when I called earlier. What were you up to?

"What? He called me?"

– Er, I... I'm sorry, sir! she exclaimed, bowing as low as she could. I was asleep and I... I forgot to wake up... Please excuse me, I'm really...

– I don't care about your excuses, cut in Duke Arthur.

Clave gasped. He had picked up his whip. She backed away slowly.

– You're going to punish me, aren't you?

Duke Arthur sighed.

– You know the rules, servant. I don't like this sort of thing, but I have to. Come closer.

Clave stepped back even further and hugged her arms tightly. From what Catherine had told her, servants were punished with electric whips that could even paralyse the person's body.

Duke Arthur cracked his whip in the air, coming closer and closer to her. When he was no more than a metre from her and the young girl was blocked by the wall, the Duke took her arm and, with his other hand, brought his whip down on her.

Mystic - EN versionWhere stories live. Discover now