At the end of it, Zarah dragged Arabella's half-conscious carcass back to the training room as Margarette trailed behind them.
From that angle, only the high ceiling covering the hallways was visible.
The rest of her body was so done that every sense in her had turned numb.
Was the floor rubbing against her lacerated back hot or was it cold? There no longer was a way to tell as her nerve endings were pretty much burned to a crisp through the sheer, ruthless force that the whip had inflicted upon her.
To say she was vandalized would have been an understatement.
"Get someone to clean the blood off the floors!"
That was Zarah addressing someone that quickly squeaked a response, "Yes, madame!"
The contrasting hues between the gold shine-coated corridors and the feeble orange light in the training room were nearly blinding.
Arabella shut her eyes and waited motionless on the floor for what was to come, but thankfully, the hag did not touch her again.
