I didn't hear the gasps. Didn't feel the blood on my knuckles. Didn't notice the shocked faces gathering in a half-circle around me.
All I could hear was her voice—the head maid's filthy words echoing in my head like poison. Her insults still clinging to my skin like grease.
My breathing was sharp. My fists were aching. My body burning with fire. I was about to go at her again.
I didn't care if she was already half-conscious, bleeding on the courtyard stones. I didn't care if they chained me or beat me or dragged me to the dungeons this time.
She had spoken about my mother. She had spat on her name. And for that, I was going to make sure she never opened that vile mouth again.
I moved.
My foot lifted, ready to kick her across the face—
And then, I was flying.
Not forward. But backward.
A violent kick slammed into my ribs and knocked the air clean from my lungs.
I hit the ground hard, rolling once before I caught myself on my elbows, dazed, breathless.
What—
