Chapter 172: Alistair’s Punishment
At the mention of his name, they both spotted Tobias joining Helena’s companion at the back of the stage, and as though he was busy inquiring about her from the organizers, his gaze drifted in her direction to find her standing on the stage. When he approached them, Samantha didn’t fail to grasp his perturbed countenance, and he made it quite obvious to Helena that there was a problem he needed to share with her in private.
"Helena," he came to stand in front of her, his voice a mixture of relief and apprehension as he said. "Forgive me if I have to interrupt you in His Majesty’s orders, but I need your help back in the Palace, the matter is rather urgent." He disclosed in a whisper that Samantha had managed to perceive herself. The forms had already been given out to the citizens, and every eligible male had filled it which means that their work here was already done.
It was left for the assistant organizers to arrange the forms so they could all leave together. Samantha inadvertently spotted her brother amongst the crowds that were beginning to disperse. He made a gesture with his hands that he was going to wait for her so they could leave together, but Samantha responded with the same hand sign, indicating he should return to the Palace without her since there are matters she needed to take care of. Knowing there was no possible way to convince his sister to join him in the town squares parade, he could only nod his head before waving his goodbyes.
"I was waiting for you and your brother for a long time now, where is he?" Helena’s inquiring tone brought Samantha’s attention back to them, and when she looked behind Tobias in the hopes to see Alistair coming their way as well, a questioning frown plastered her face as her eyes moved to meet the ones of Tobias. "Where is Prince Alistair?"
—-
Back in the Royal Chevalier Palace, the sound of a leathered whip meeting Alistair’s pale back could be heard in the punishment room. His hands were bound by chains as he was whipped mercilessly, so much so that the red welts behind his back began to bleed. On the other side of the punishment room stood his Father who watched the scene with not a flicker of mercy in his gaze, probably because he was the one who demanded that his son must be whipped non-stop till he learned his lesson.
The torture had been going on for thirty minutes straight, but Alistair’s walls refused to crumble, a stubborn display that made his Father’s gaze harden momentarily.
"Harder!" He ordered.
Alistair’s body shook with each relentless strike, but the expression on his face gave no sign of pain. His body glistened with sweat, and it only peppered his wounds since he wasn’t giving the time to heal before receiving another painful lash of the leathered whip. He subconsciously drew in a deep breath, and his once, flawlessly pale skin turned pink due to the effects of the whip.