Irene's tears alone filled the room as by then Arabella was completely out of commission, nearly collapsing, but holding on by a thread.
The thread that split her family between safety and harm. Should she fall, it might as well be when unconsciousness fully claimed her mind. At least then, it would be a viable excuse for breaking the pose.
"Is that your own blood on your foot or hers?" he broke the stifling silence in the room.
Although, both women would have been grateful for a different voice and not his own. it was just a reminder that… Well, he was still there standing watch that their torments didn't end.
But indeed, the bridge of Irene's foot was painted entirely red as she scrambled the last bits of effort in order to appease the prince, even though the latest kicks had significantly dropped in intensity as her forces kept depleting.
"I… I do not know, your highness," every meek word in her sentence cracked and broke.
