3 1.1 CHAPTER TWO: THE FEARSOME FATHER

1.1 CHAPTER TWO: THE FEARSOME FATHER

Karme knew she should be leaving the library soon. News of her father coming home had come. Everyone in the castle was scrambling to welcome the duke back from his week-long journey to attend the Regallion.

But Karme could not bring herself to put down the book she was reading. She was so near its finale, and she needed to see how it ended. If she put it down, she had no idea when her father would leave once more. It could be days, weeks, or even months before she could continue to read it. And in fear of getting caught, Karme could not bring the book out of the library.

Despite not reading it, her father would know if a book was missing from its shelf.

That was how much he wanted to be in control of things. Everything had a place and a place for everything. Karme was one of the things he most wanted to be in control of. He decides where she goes and who she talks to. And most of all, he decides who gets to see her.

Which was no one. . .

No one outside her family, and the people working in the castle, had ever seen her. As her father had put it for her, she was an embarrassment, and he could not risk introducing her to anyone.

As Karme turned to the last page came the sound of the library door opening. Wide-eyed with fear, she turned towards the direction of the door and saw the oppressive figure of her father.

He stared down at her. With eyes so alike hers yet so dissimilar, Karme shook in trepidation. He stood tall in the middle of the only door in and out of the room.

In a desperate attempt to appease her father, Karme hastily closed the book in her hand and put it back in its place before she rose to her feet and bowed her head low. She clenched her fingers in fear until they whitened. Her father's footsteps echoed in her ears.

It was like. . . The music to her upcoming doom, and Karme could not help but hunch her back as her confidence vanished with each step. Her eyes remained glued to her feet, unable to gather the courage to look at her father.

"Karme," her own name, sounded so foreign in the cold, unnerving voice of the man that stopped inches away from her. "What are you doing in my library?"

She peeked at her father with downcast eyes. "I–uh. . .I just,"

Slam.

Karme flinched at the loud sound her father had made by slapping his hand down on the wooden desk beside him, and her eyes flew back down to the ground. She gripped at her own hands so tightly they turned white. The anxiety and fright she got at the presence of her own father, she knew was not expected.

But–the duke was frighteningly unmerciful;

Especially when it came to Karme.

"I told you to not look at me, you wretched brat," he lashed out.

His voice was drowned out by the sound of him smacking his daughter in the cheek and her scream of pain. Karme de Serin fell to the floor with a loud thud. Her hand flew towards her aching face as tears flew from her eyes, sobbing quietly as she could.

The duke would punish her more if he heard one cry from her. All she could do was apologize. She shakily knelt down from where she fell and bowed her head low to the carpeted floor.

"I... I apologize, your highness. Please," she mumbled as she forced a sob back down her throat.

But the duke never answered as he walked away from her. Karme peered slightly from under her lashes and saw her father walking towards his escritoire. She gasped as he opened one drawer and revealed a leather whip.

A sound escaped Karme's throat as she realized what would happen. Her tears flew nonstop as her father slowly came towards her. As he stopped behind her, Karme shook her head as she wrapped her arms around her, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Please, your highness. You do not have to do this," she cried, shaking her head still. "Please, I learned my lesson. I swear I will never come to this room again!"

But he remained frighteningly quiet. She heard the sharp, whooshing sound of the air as her father uncoiled the whip he was holding. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the coming pain. As the leather whip touched her back, Karme cried out.

He continued to lash out at her despite her pleading for him to stop. Her cries fell on deaf ears despite it echoing in the room as the duke continued his punishment. The cloth on her back had been steadily ripped and cut by the sheer force of the whip. Her skin peeled off, making her blood gush down her back.

The duke only stopped when he felt satisfied. Karme was nothing but a sobbing mess beneath him. Her voice had long since been silenced. Her fingernails dug into her own arms as she gripped herself as tightly as she could to stop herself from retaliating.

If she did, the punishment would have only grown worse.

"I... I'm sorry," she cried, her voice hoarse.

"If you really are sorry as you say, Karme," her father started, walking back towards his desk as he curled his whip back. "Then do as I say,"

She sniffled, looking still at the floor beneath her knees, the expensive carpet wet with her tears and blood. "What. . . What is it, your highness?"

"Marry a sham lord, Karme. And I might be inclined to forgive all your uselessness,"

Karme looked up with wide-eye in shock. "Marry, your highness? But I–"

"You what?!" the duke bellowed, his eyes glinting in undeniable anger. "Do not test my patience any longer, Karme. Do as you are told. You, who are cursed and useless, are being given a chance to marry. If anything, you should be thanking me,"

Karme forced the refusal she wanted to say back down her throat as she bowed low in front of her father. Her heart was heavy, and her body ached. But all she could mutter were lies.

"Yes, your highness. Thank. . . you,"