Page 22 of Nightshade

“But you did not crush it. He did.”

“Yes, I know”

“You are his whipping boy.” She snapped her gaze toward the now empty path, where the young baron had been only moments before. Lustina had heard of whipping boys, knew their role, but in her mind, they’d always been assigned to unruly young nobles--children essentially. Not adolescents, who were, by all accounts, considered fully grown. “He requires one at his age?”

“His father fears him and puts far too much stock in what little friendship we have.”

“So, his punishments are carried out on you because Lord Praecepsia fears his retaliation?”

“Yes. It is wrong for me to say this aloud, but if you will be accompanying the bishop, I feel I must warn you.” Drystan stepped closer, and after a quick glance back toward where the baron had stood moments ago, he lowered his voice. “Stay as far as you can from the young baron. He’s capable of things that no good and God-fearing man his age can do.”

“You fear him also, then?”

“Everyone ought to. There is an evil buried deep inside of him. One that I fear could be quite dangerous, if not for the efforts of Bishop Venable.”

Evil. She’d heard the word thrown around so many times, Lustina couldn’t entirely say what she knew to be true evil. And she’d found anything involving the bishop to be all the more questionable. “What exactly are the efforts of Bishop Venable?”

“It is hard to say. I have never personally witnessed the rituals. I only know the baron seems much more subdued afterward. It has always been that way, from the time he was young.”

“I will be sure to keep my distance from him, then.”

“Good. I will fetch the water bucket, so you can get back.”

“You will be punished when you return?”

“Yes.” Drystan sighed as he plopped down at the edge of the bank and removed his shoe. “The heirloom he destroyed belonged to Lord Praecepsia’s great-uncle.”

9

Lustina

Having fetched the pail of water, as the bishop had requested, Lustina and Drystan returned to the estate, where the young Baron stood beside a beast of a man. Tothyll, she assumed. The coiled whip that hung from his waist sent a chill down her spine, and when Drystan set down the bucket of water to meet them, her stomach sank.

“Wait!” she called after them.

The young baron twisted around, his eyes burning with a curious anger.

“He didn’t crush the heirloom. It was young Lord Van Croix. I saw it.”

“Lustina, please. Return to the bishop,” Drystan urged.

“No. This is not right. You should not be punished for this!” She pointed to the young lord. “You are the one who broke it! You are the one who should suffer the lashings!”

“I’d be careful, if I were you, girl,” the baron’s voice held an ominous warning.

“No! I’ll not stand idly by! You are to blame.”

“What is going on out here?”

At the sound of Bishop Venable’s voice, a thrum of nervous tension spiraled through Lustina, which she swallowed back, clearing her throat. “Your Excellency, I watched the baron destroy an heirloom. He did so with intention!”

Bishop Venable’s brows lowered to a mantle of pure irritation. “It is not your place to make such accusations, girl. Now, grab the water and follow me.”

“But I beg Your Excellency to intervene! Drystan did not carry out the insolent act for which he stands to be punished. He’s kind and does not deserve this!”

The bishop’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And what would you know of the boy’s kindness? Let it be known that I held a certain unease, allowing you to go into the woods with that boy. To lure him like Lilith.”

Slapped by insult and confusion, Lustina frowned. “I did nothing more than what you asked of me.”