Chapter 33: Keep Her Shame?
Rose lifted her head, wiping her face. She couldn’t remain on the floor. She didn’t know how long she could stay in his chambers, but it was best not to push it. She also couldn’t let the crown prince catch her here. She gathered herself but mentally and physically, even though she’d rather the ground opened and swallowed her.
Rose stood to her feet, using the wall for support. She bent down to pick up her dress. It was a mess, having been slit right through the middle. The ends were in even worse shape, as he had ripped it. How could he do that to her clothes? How was she supposed to leave his room now? Did he not consider that?
Rose looked around, but she knew better than to pick anything from the wardrobe or the room. Right now, a pillowcase would do better than the clothes she had on, but unfortunately, the torn dress was all she had.
She picked up the dress and wrapped it around her body as best as she could. Where she could tie it, she tied; other parts, she gripped with her hand. Satisfied that the dress would make it to the servants’ quarters, Rose slowly made her way out the door.
The guards were polite—or perhaps they just didn’t care. Neither mattered; she was just glad they had the decency not to stare. She walked briskly, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact. She did her best not to think about the marks on her body that wouldn’t let her forget what had just transpired. Rose got to the stairs and would have taken them two at a time if she could open her legs a little more.
Aside from being sore, she had wrapped the dress in such a way that it was tight—the only way she could cover up the rip. It wasn’t much of a dress at this point and just looked like she had wrapped a piece of cloth around herself, but at least it was better than walking through these halls naked.
Rose heard voices as she got close to the bottom of the stairs. She raised her head a little to see who it was and where they were going, as she didn’t want to bump into anyone. Rose tripped. She lost her footing, miscalculating as she took the next step. With only one hand free, she couldn’t catch herself in time and fell forward, landing face-first on the Queen’s shoes.
"You!" she heard, followed by a kick aimed at her face.
Rose only managed to avoid this because she was already scrambling to her knees as fear, horror, and dread bubbled up, tasting like she drank a cup full of bile. "I am so sorry, Yer Majesty, I tripped," she tried to explain.
However, even as she apologized, Rose feared the worst. Martha had said something about being whipped and thrown into the dungeons. Rose wanted neither. She doubted she could bear any of it. She had only just been whipped the day before; her back was still very sore, and now it wasn’t just her back—her entire body burned, with the worst pain concentrated in her core.