Gwen's arm screamed in pain as she was dragged down the winding corridors away from Rowan. Just outside of the cellar the King had signalled to a guard to take over steering her down the halls. The King's face was stony as he marched beside them angrily. Despite the pain, Gwen laughed to herself. If someone had told her two weeks ago that she would be kissing Prince Rowan, she would never have believed them.

Gwen looked back, trying to catch Rowan's eye. He watched them get farther and farther away, a dumbfounded look on his face. She wasn't sure if it was because he was surprised they were caught or because he was hurt she had pushed him away.

After they had turned a corner, Rowan seemed to snap out of it and hurried to catch up with them.

"Father," Rowan said, breathless. "Please, I can explain. Gwen and I, we're not-" Rowan broke off, looking towards her uncertainly.

"I do not care Rowan," the King growled, not sparing a glance at his son. "You know your place here. It is time this girl learns hers. You will be King some day, and as you know I have high expectations of you."

Gwen took in the exchange, a sense of dread overcoming her. "Learn her place?" What did that mean? She knew she could not be involved with the Prince; she had already made up her mind, because it was causing her too much trouble than it all was worth.

A steely resolve came over Gwen as they walked. She would not be involved with Rowan anymore. She would avoid him at all costs. If she was forced to interact with him, it would be with the calm professionalism of a guard.

There would be no more casual teasing from her, no more calling him "Rowan." It would be Prince Rowan or Your Highness. There would be no more special treatment for Gwen; she would train with the rest of the guards, and fight with the same odds they had. She would earn her place on the Elite Guards, alone.

Rowan fell a few steps behind and Gwen looked back, startled by the look of panic and horror on his face. He obviously knew much better than she did what his father meant.

After few minutes of being hauled through the castle, they reached a large, lavishly decorated room. At the back of the room were two thrones, draped in burgundy fabric and padded with decorative cushions. Gwen shook off her awe from the magnificence of the room and focused on the people around her.

Two guards stood near the door, looking stoic as usual. Another leaned against the far wall, arms behind his back as if he were holding something.

"Please father, this is highly unnecessary," Rowan pleaded once again.

"I will decide what is necessary," he snapped back. "If I hear one more complaint from you it will double." Rowan fell silent immediately, turning to stalk out the doors.

"I will not watch this," he growled, his feet smacking loudly against the floor. "She has done nothing wrong."

Just as Rowan was about to turn into the corridor, a silent signal from the King to the guards sent the doors crashing closed. Rowan turned back slowly, his face a stony mask. Gwen expected him the yell out at the King again, but he remained silent.

King Gabriel watched his son for a moment before turning back to Gwen with a pleased smile. Hatred for the King raced through Gwen's body as she stood, vulnerable in the middle of the room.

The King walked slowly towards his throne, as though he had all the time in the world. As he settled himself carefully on the extravagant throne he lifted his hand towards the guard near the wall.

With the lithe grace of a cat the guard slinked towards Gwen. She noticed, as he drew closer that he wore the crest of the Elite Guard. Gwen shuddered, knowing the extent of training that this man would have. She stared into his eyes pleadingly, but was met with no sympathy. Her gaze drifted down to the object in his hands.

He held a whip in his hand, the wooden grip looked very worn, and the black leather trailed along the ground behind the guard.

Gwen peered at him, hoping to recognize him from her extensive research on the guard. His black hair fell over his eyes; it was so long it nearly brushed his shoulders. His body was thin and built for speed, unlike the majority of guards that Gwen had seen.

Gwen stifled a gasp. This could be none other than Alistair Dumont, notoriously cruel Captain of the Guard. He was known for his absolute lack of humanity. He usually dealt with rebel traitors, and excelled in retrieving information from them. Being the captain of the Elite guards gave him power over the entire army, and he was probably one of the most powerful men in the castle under the King.

Gwen shuddered, breaking her gaze from the guard's. The King was certainly sending a strong message by using him to inflict her punishment.

Alistair pulled a dagger out of a sheath at his side as he stood behind her. He stood so close to her she could feel his ragged breath on her neck. She could feel excitement pouring off of him, like he enjoyed torturing people. Like he relished in their pain.

One quick flick of his knife and the back of Gwen's shirt was ripped open, leaving her unmarked back bare.

Gwen stood tall; awaiting the pain the cruel guard would bring her. She took the first lash silently, only grunting quietly when the leather made contact with her bare back. She was hyper-aware of Rowan standing rigidly in the distance, fists clenched at his side. The pain raced up her spine, shaking her small body. She would not give the smug King what he wanted. She would not show weakness.

Before Gwen had time to strengthen her resolve for the next lash, the whip hit her again. Gwen whimpered, it had made contact with the first lash. Gwen blocked out every sound around her, focusing only on her thoughts.

The leather stung against Gwen's back. Again and again. Each hit was a fiery lash, streaking across her skin. She jolted in pain with each strike, but refused to show weakness, biting her lip as bitter tears stung her eyes. As the whip hit her again she clenched her fists and ground her teeth. Gwen kept her gaze firmly on the wall in the distance, keeping her head lifted. The King would not defeat her. Not today or any day.

As the whip hit her over and over, thoughts of Rowan, Xander and even Taylor flew through her mind. Gwen thought about anything she could to avoid focusing on the pain in her back. The memory the recurred the most often was Rowan, pressing her against the wall, her lips moving furiously against his. Soon after came the memory of the pain on Rowan's face when she pushed him away.

At seven lashes Gwen finally gave in, she screamed. An ear-piercing shriek filled the room as the pain became unbearable. She crumpled to the ground, curling up into a ball. Sobs racked her body, as she could no longer contain them.

The whip hit her again, and again, until she could barely form a cohesive thought.

"Enough," a cold voice finally came, sounding distant and bored. Gwen lifted her head to see the King stalking out of the room, not sparing a backwards glance. Alistair was close on his heels, but in contrast to the King he did turn back, a wry smirk on his lips.

Gwen was lifted into a strong pair of arms and she giggled, her mind no longer seemed to be communicating with her body. The arms were gentle around her, careful not to jostle her broken arm, or rub against the fresh cuts on her back.

"This feels familiar," she laughed again, before the world went black.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tell me what you thought! This chapter was kind of short but I had to switch the scene I was going to add at the end to the start of the next chapter or it would have been too long. I had so much fun writing this chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment if you liked it!

xoxo Emma