Pyter and Zora left their sisters groveling in the dirt. Zora buried her face in his warm shoulder. For the millionth time in her life, she realized that Pyter was perhaps the only male who would ever be nice to her. Out of all her siblings, he was her closest kin as he'd been birthed from the same mother.
"I heard about what mother did to your eye. It's awful." He sounded close to tears. Gently, he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, skimming the scarred flesh. Pyter flinched as the sunlight hit her wounds.
"Please don't remind me about it," Zora muttered.
"Very well then. How's your skin?" he asked quietly. She grimaced.
"It burns," she admitted, glancing down at the red flesh. It was already turning brighter. Her nightgown was also thoroughly soaked, the translucent material clinging to her trembling figure.
"I'll take you to Marx –" he started, but Zora interrupted him.
"Marx won't care. You know that," she said bitterly. "I'll be fine. Some ice will help. The burns don't look to be too serious as they aren't blistering."
Pyter looked upset but reluctantly nodded. "I suppose you're right. I'll deposit you in your bedchambers. Then I'll ask for ice."
He gently laid her on the bed, propped her up with a few plush pillows, and raced out of the room. A few moments later, he came back with a bucket of ice. "Change first," he ordered, turning away. "Then ice your arms. They appear to be the worst."
Zora quickly donned a yellow dress and stuck her short arms into the ice. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the coolness combated the burning sensation. "Thank you," she whispered, eyes brimming with tears. Pyter simply nodded.
There was a question at the back of Zora's mind that had been nagging her for quite some time. "Hey, Pyter, why don't you hate girls like everyone else?"
Her elder brother blinked. "What?"
Zora repeated her question, and he snorted. "Isn't it obvious? It's because to hate on women is wrong. There are very few differences between the two genders. While it's true that females are usually weaker than men, it doesn't make them any less important. After all, it's the women who travail through labor and birth, looking after the children, and taking care of the household."
Pyter was beginning to ramble, but Zora didn't stop him. Instead, she leaned against the pillows with a smile. She liked hearing his thoughts. He spoke with so much passion, it made Zora truly believe he could change Etharia for the better. Once Pyter became King, he would have the power to do so.
The door was thrown open with a bang. Zora stifled a cry of disbelief, for there was the King. He'd come in a hurry; his ceremonial crown was askew. Had he just returned from a council meeting?
"What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed deafeningly. Zora inched slowly beneath the covers but froze when his scornful glare landed upon her. "Pyter, my son, what are you doing with that?" He waves a dismissive hand at Zora, and anger boiled up within her once more.
But Pyter's hand on her shoulder evaporated all the rage. His fingers curled a little tighter, wordlessly warning her not to let her emotion take the reins. "Father, that has a name. Don't you recall Zora, your youngest?"
The King harrumphed. "As far as I'm concerned, my youngest child is Gregori." The unspoken words hung the in air. For I do not see girls as my children. The insult stung. The King shot Pyter an angry look.
"And what was that rubbish you were speaking of earlier? 'It's because to hate on women is wrong' huh?"
Pyter bit his lip. He looked torn between lying and upholding his words for his little sister. Zora nodded ever so slightly, encouraging him to save his own hide. He exhaled.
"Erm, that was me mocking something I overheard this morning. Haha, what a joke, right?"
The King's face contorted even more. "Where did you overhear such traitorous blasphemy?"
Without thinking, Zora blurted out, "from one of the princesses, Your Majesty." She couldn't risk getting Pyter into trouble. Too late, she realized her mistake.
"What?" shrieked the King, his face now a vibrant rubicund. Before Zora could answer, he'd swept out of the room, screaming at the passing servants. "Bring me every princess at once, and deliver them to the throne room. Now, quickly! Are you fools deaf? I said now!"
Horror clenched Zora's heart, and she resisted the urge to dash outside, screaming at her sire. The King adjusted his crown, breathing heavily. "You two, come with me to the throne room."
Pyter helped Zora out of bed. His face was ashen, all blood draining away. "What have you done?" he whispered.
Her voice cracked when she spoke. "I –I didn't mean to," she cried. "Really, I didn't!"
He smoothed her hair. "I know you didn't, sestra, but now someone innocent will either be flogged or executed. We can only hope for the best..."
Zora flinched when he accidentally brushed against her burns. "Well, His Majesty has demanded for us to go to the throne room. It'd be best not to disobey."
When they arrived, the air was filled with the soft sobbing of frightened girls. Her half-sisters were there, all kneeling with their brows pressed against the floor as the King paced back and forth.
When the King neared Ekaterlina, she suddenly burst out, "please forgive us, Your Royal Majesty, we have done nothing wrong! We are your daughters. Why would we ever suggest that?"
"Did I say you could speak?" roared the King, face scrunching up even more. She hiccupped.
"N- no, Your Majesty!" Tears were plinking onto the marble floor. The King turned around, glaring at Zora.
"You! Which one did you overhear those filthy words from?"
She froze, feeling like a deer in torchlights. "Your Majesty, I sincerely apologize, but it was at night and difficult to see –"
"I care not. Point to the one who you think said it."
Zora didn't know whether to scream, cry, or run away. She felt like doing all three. The King tapped his foot impatiently. "Did you hear me?"
Did Zora feel guilty? Extremely so. But as she scanned the kneeling girls, her gaze rested upon Zhoya. Her arms burned.
Before he could say more, Zora pointed a quivering finger at the Zhoya. The girl shrieked in dismay as palace guards burst into the room, yanked her up by the arms, and dragged her away.
"Unhand me, fiends! I have a royal princess –"
"Just shut up, brat," spat a guard. The King nodded in approval.
"The thing will be executed tomorrow at dawn. I will be expecting to see you both there. She will set an example for all women living in this kingdom. Excellent work, Pyter."
Once she was certain he was out of earshot, Zora burst into tears. She felt Pyter slide his strong arms around her shuddering body, but even his warmth did no good. It was true that Zhoya had been cruel, but she didn't deserve this harsh of a fate. Perhaps she'd only meant to keep up appearances as an older princess. She just trying to survive in this cruel world as was Zora..
Unfortunately, in this game of eat or be eaten, Zora was the one dousing her hands with blood.
hello guys! here's another treat for you. there was an explosion of comments in one chapter last night, and suddenly, we've gained a bunch more people onboard! thank you to everyone who is supporting me, i love you all ❤️❤️❤️
Discussion Questions: How will Zora live with this guilt? Do you think Pyter will change things once he becomes King?
special thanks to Galasriniel_00 for the great ideas help in this chapter!