Young Writers Society

Keylee sat bolt upright. She was sitting on a stool in her father's office. Duke Simeon Patrolled her around, tapping a birch switch against his thigh.

"The de Moncutan family are one of the most ancient families in the country." Tap tap, went the birch switch. "We are one of the richest. One of the purest in blood. "Keylee's father stopped pacing and stopped in front of her."

"Any impure blood must be purged immediately. Do you understand me, Keylee? Keylee's throat was dry. She swallowed.

"Yes, sir." Keylee said clearly, her voice ringing out louder than it should have. It sounded impertinent, and she knew it, but did not particularly care. She would get punished anyway.

"Seizures. Fainting spells. Strange illnesses. Visions. It has happened many times before and it must stop! Do you hear me, Keylee? "

"Yes sir. I hear you. "Keylee bit her lip. She knew what would happen next, for it had happened so many times before. She was never good enough. Never pure enough.

"Keylee, kneel on the floor, please." There's voice was dangerously soft. "Keylee did so, trying to stop trembling. There was a brief silence, filled with dread and the stench of fear.

Thwat! The noise of the switch whistling through the air cut through the silence. A second before the blow landed, Keylee could feel the whistle of the switch through the air, making her veil flutter in front of her face like birds' wings. Keylee cried out in pain. It was like the switch was burning hot, it left a blazing line on her back. The pain was hideous and overwhelming.

Thwat! It was worse this time. Another burning mark on her back, like her body was consumed in a blistering inferno.

Thwat! Thwat! Thwat! The switch came faster and harder on her back now, landing sickeningly hard, crippling blows. Once, as missed and the switch landed over her ear, near her temple. Keylee well over and felt the blood slowly run down her cheek, mingling with her tears. She did not cry out again. She would not show weakness that way.

Keylee was still lying on her front an hour later, propped up on her elbows. She had tried reading and sewing, but her mind was still hazy from the pain. She had not dared look at her back, but she knew from experience that it would be a mat of red scabs. They would take weeks to properly fade away, and it felt as if as had been more brutal than ever this time. Her blue lace dress had been almost completely saturated with blood, and had had to be thrown away. Pity. She had liked that one. Keylee groaned as she shifted slightly, straining her back. Any impure blood must be purged. Well, There certainly had purged a great amount of her blood. Keylee sighed. It was no use. There was nothing else to do. Keylee changed into her only pair of breeches and shirt, then proceeded out of the door. It was most certainly not a good idea to do anything physical after being whipped, but Keylee had never been the most practical type. As Keylee was hurtling down the corridors, she suffered a minor collision with her mother, Duchess, Miriam. Her mother was a woman of short stature, with straight, silvery-blonde hair. Her skin was nearly colorless and her eyes were wide and pale blue, nearly gray. She was slim in the way a willow sapling was slim. She always seemed so vulnerable, as if she was made of china, and the slightest thing could break her. She was, of course very beautiful. The most desirable qualities in a woman were beauty, compliance and inactivity. Keylee felt that she hardly knew her mother. They did not talk, except for when her mother advised her on her dress choices, of which she knew much of. Keylee did not think her mother even noticed that she was wearing men's clothes.

Ma had been married to since for a political match, as she was from a wealthy family with no titles, and Da's family had titles aplenty but no money. Perfect. And ever since that Ma had been unhappy and lonely, roaming the palace corridors, and since had been too busy making more money than he knew what to do with to notice. Keylee sighed. She did not know which of her parents she disliked more. Ma, with her cold indifference, her overwhelming beauty and the air about her that she always wanted to get away. Or, since, with his fiery anger, passionate speeches and great charisma and unimaginable selfishness. Sometimes he would be quiet and courteous, other times, he would just .... snap. Maybe she hated them both equally. Keylee knew it was wrong to hate your parents. They did not hate her. They did not know her enough to hate her. They simply did not want her. Girls were no use, only boys could inherit. Girls cost money, to keep them in silk and satin, and educate them. Of course they could not be educated too much: that was simply vulgar. Keylee entered the stables. As usual, the horses whickered their greetings softly. They loved Keylee, who never whipped them, as her father did. Keylee her bit lip.Her mother had not always been that way, of course. Not since five years ago. Not since her father snapped. Not since Ella-Louise.

dot dot dot ..... : D

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