The last strike echoed in the room as her father lowered the whip, realizing how serious she was about her feelings.
"Is he a threat to the Rocheforts?" he asked, calculating the risk Lucian posed.
"Yes." Celine's honesty didn't earn her a streak of kindness as the whip slashed her again.
"You brought a threat into the house, and it's still alive?" The suffocating pressure bore down on her mercilessly, cracking the floor under his boots as he ordered, "You are going to remove it from your life, or I will."
The hold he had on the whip tightened when an eerie silence followed.
"Don't talk about taking away my future husband's life as if it's nothing, father," Celine's head turned toward him, a glare that could kill a man being thrown at him, "You will give him his due respect. Even if he's an idiot, he's still my man."
Her father's stare darkened, his hand raising once again, "Deranged child. What makes you think I won't kill him the moment he shows up?"
"You can try," she smiled, returning back to face the mirror on the wall, "But if I were you, I would treat the father of your grandchild with more care. That's all I'm saying."
"The child is alive?" Her father's eyes widened for a second, before he masked his surprise with a deep frown. The suffocating, pressure that had been crushing her shoulders vanished in an instant. He was no longer looking at a rebellious daughter; but a tactician who had just played a masterstroke. Everyone thought the child was dead, yet it was alive, with the most unlikely man as its father, "Where is it?"
"A safe place. Where he doesn't have to see his mother being whipped for being in love with his father."
Her father knew very well how hard it was to keep Celine and Edmund safe from assassins, raising them alone until they were strong enough to protect themselves. Laying his hands on Lucian would endanger his grandson's life.
His silence was confirmation enough, and she was satisfied to finally have something to hold over her father.
"I also know a lot about him, father. Enough to ruin him, if it comes to that. Doubting me and my choices is doubting your own ability to raise me right. It's quite insulting."
Her back felt like it was on fire, but the relief of getting the truth out of her chest made it tolerable.
Her father finally lowered the whip for good and released her from the shackles. He caught her before she fell to the floor and carried her to the bed, placing her on her stomach.
"Why won't he ask you for your hand in marriage?" The integration had ended with her farher becoming more tolerant of her choices.
She wanted to say that Lucian planned to help her from the opposing side, and that they would be reunited after her coronation, but that would make her father view him too positively.
"He is a coward," Celine complained, resting her head on the pillow, "Please, teach him a lesson on my behalf, father. He needs a good beating. As his future father-in-law, it should be your duty to educate him."
"..." Her father threw a cover over her body before tearing off her stained dress. He then used a wet cloth to wipe the blood off her back and arms without removing the covers, keeping his daughter's modesty in mind.
Celine's habit of taking care of Lucian's wounds after lashing out at him was mirrored in her father's actions now. It was a type of care she viewed as genuine, even though it was wrapped in violence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked after finding some use for Lucian.
"Cut off his connection to his intelligence network. No news should reach him from the capital."
Lucian was too comfortable in his current situation. He was fine with knowing she was safe and well from afar.
She wanted to shatter his false sense of security, and make him feel the helplessness she did whenever he went on an adventure and left her behind.
"Won't he hate you for it?"
Lucian would probably use that opportunity to seek an alliance with the prince and other nobles, who hated the Rocheforts.
"He should have thought about it when he allowed me to be engaged to someone else," Celine said, her hand gripping the bedsheet.
"Consider it done." Her father began to work on her back, salving the bleeding cuts, knowing how scars were a bad look on a woman, "Finish the treatment with your blessing."
"I thought you wanted the prince to see them and take pity on me," she mumbled. The Crown Prince would see the marks as signs of abuse and come to her rescue, or so her father wanted to happen.
"Only the prince, not the whole court," her father reprimanded her, his fingers spreading the salve on her wounds, "The more backing you have, the safer you will be. I won't always be there to protect you. That's what marriage is for, to build new connections and a family that will stand by you."
Her father gained a lot by marrying her mother, who was the previous king's daughter, a spy he slowly turned to his side.
"I already have a family, father," she said, bitter about her own marriage prospects, "They are called the Rocheforts."
Her father pressed his thumb into a cut, making her hiss in pain, "Bless yourself, young lady, I won't ask again."
Celine complied and began to channel her blessing into her body, starting with her back. She healed the wounds, just enough for her to move around without pain.
Her father picked up her dress and placed it on the bed before leaving her. He returned with a new under dress, placing it by her head, and left again, "I will pick you up in half an hour."
When the door closed, Celine turned toward the golden dress. She pulled it to her chest, laying on her side, and hugged it. Her fingers caressed the fabric, imagining it was Lucian hugging her instead.
Her father's words continued to spiral in her head, bringing back the doubts she had tried to bury deep down.
'It doesn't matter if he hates me.'
She already prepared herself for that, but what if he ended up loving another?
'How can I prevent that?' she asked herself, her fingers digging into the dress.
He even found an excuse to be a womanizer, saying he was gathering scapegoats to keep the attention off of her.
'If they are just scapegoats, then it will be fine if I remove a few of them, right?'
Celine got off the bed and began to put on the dress.
She turned her back toward the mirror on the wall, tying the dress from the back, the wounds stinging from the stretch of her muscles. They should heal naturally with time, so there was no need to waste her blessings on them.
Her mind was too preoccupied with how she was going to use the engagement to chase after her missing fiance in the south.
Lucian was out in the sea, and while a dutiful wife would have supported her man from afar, she was not his wife yet, and thus, he should not get the privilege to take her for granted.
'My son also needs to learn not to let others claim his father. Yes, I have to teach him that lesson early on. Can't let him grow up with the wrong mindset.'
╔═══ Author's note ════╗
End of arc 6 *throws confetti*
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