The Winter Kissed Kings (The Winter Queen Duet Book 2) by Ivy Fox

Author:Ivy Fox [Fox, Ivy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: X-Factory
Published: 2023-08-28T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Katrina

I was wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

As I’m led by two guards to the whipping post in front of me, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake in judgment.

I was sure that Atlas’s love for me would keep me safe and that he would find a way to protect me while still being able to quench the west’s hunger for justice, but that had been a fool’s prayer from the start.

Cold sweat drenches my brow as I get closer to the hooded henchman and priest in charge of this afternoon’s proceedings. Once I’ve stepped foot onto the makeshift stage built at the very heart of the town square, the priest tolls his large bell by his side, announcing to everyone gifted with hearing that the time of reckoning has arrived.

I block out most of what he says since half, if not all, of his spiel is derogative by nature, but I do pay close attention when he finally doles out my sentencing. My heart rattles in its cage when I hear that I’m to suffer one strike of the henchman’s whip for every hundred souls that have been sold off in favor of the north’s greed. The words have barely passed his lips when the crowd cheers in elation, eager to see me bleed.

There is no way I’ll ever be able to survive such punishment.

I may live long enough to suffer every blow, but I’ll never survive the wounds.

It’s not anger that I feel for being tricked so viciously by the rebel king—it’s sadness.

Sadness for the love my own father had taken away from me in my youth. And sadness for the one being stolen from me now by the very man I’m in love with.

I was a fool for believing Atlas’s love for me was stronger than his need for vengeance.

A blind, lovesick fool.

As the guards take me to the whipping post and bind my hands around it, I turn to face the crowd, my eyes searching for any sympathetic face I can find. I’m glad Inessa was ordered to stay in her room back at the castle, and that she is spared from having to watch her sister and queen being so savagely beaten. But there is a weak part of me that wishes she was here. If she was, I’d at least be able to look upon her beautiful face and pull the much-needed strength I yearn for to see me through this somber hour.

It’s with this thought that my sight lands on pale blue eyes, so light they remind me of a sky on a summer’s day.

With all the commotion, I didn’t realize that Atlas was right in front of me, standing in the first row alongside men who look too regal to be commoners. His jaw tics as his guards tighten the coarse rope around my wrists, giving it a good tug to make sure I’m secure to the post. His eyes never leave mine as the guards and the priest walk down the small flight of stairs of the stage, leaving me alone with the henchman and his whip.

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