Daniea sat in the in the cold, musty confines of the Bastille for hours. As every hour passed she tried harder and harder to pick the lock on her cell and escape. She knew she was done for the moment St. Germain didn't drop dead immediately from the poison she injected into his system. Yet surprised that it was her temper that wound her up in the cell instead of her failed assassination attempt. The only thing she could do while working her way around the cell looking for weak points was replay how wrong the situation went.
One moment she was flirting and setting up to prick his neck with her poison ring and the next she was fighting off his forced advances, resulting in her knocking the aristocrat on his ass. The thought of him doubling over with such a punch made her giggle. Yet seeing young Claudel's face as the armed men dragged her away haunted her.
She couldn't see the sun from the depths of the prison but she could feel that it was closing in on the afternoon by how tired she was becoming. Within the hour four guards came to collect her, binding her in both wrist and ankle shackles, and escorting her to the courtroom. The Comte St. Germain grinned like a feline as he sat near the podium, his face turning an unappealing shade of green where her fist connected with his glass jaw.
Before the judge made his way in, Comte strolled over, leaning on the railing.
"Tsk, tsk, dearest." he chirped, "If you would only agree to be mine we could forget this whole nasty affair, yet you would still need to be punished." He insisted, rubbing his jaw.
Daniea leaned in closely, her most seductive smile spreading across her face.
"I would love to take your offer Monsieur…" she began, her face turning into her evil smirk, "But I rather fuck a leper than spend another moment with you." She spat, spitting in his face.
"You're dead, you filthy whore!" He screeched, running back to his chair.
This was a situation she was sure she would never win, men didn't listen to women. Especially women who posed as prostitutes, even high end ones. The trial and sentencing seemed to be over before it had even begun. Her life spinning around her as they dragged her kicking and screaming out into the courtyard and into the stocks where they bound her wrists above her head at the whipping post.
She struggled as hard as she could against the shackles, pulling and tugging till her wrists were bled from the metal biting into her skin.
St. Germain stepped up to the post, whispering in her ear.
"Let's see if this will change your mind." he sneered, licking a line across her cheek.
He withdrew a knife, slicing the binding of her corset and through the back of her chemise, exposing the sensitive flesh of her back and shoulders to the crowd.
The crowd roared to life as the captain of the guard stepped up, letting the cat of nine tails drag against the wooden floor.
"Fifty lashes to be administered for wrongful disobedience. You may begin." The judge announced.
One…. the first crack of the whip teared at her flesh. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry but knew that she simply couldn't.
Two… the warmth of her blood dripping down her back is sickening.
Three…. The criss crossing of marks have begun. Flesh merging with already ripped flesh makes her head spin and her stomach convulse.
Four… Shes screaming in her head, the pain is unbearable.
Five… The lashes are coming harder and quicker. The captain has found his rhythm
Six… Hanging would have been less painful, she thinks to herself.
Seven… she can't feel her arms or legs anymore, only the mind numbing pain of her back.
Eight… She heard the whip lash but didn't feel the impact, only heat and pressure.
Jamie ran as fast as his feet could carry him towards the stockade. A large crowd had gathered around the whipping post and were cheering. As he pushed his way through the mass of people, he could clearly see Daniea trapped as he was in Fort William. Bursting forth as the whip found its mark again and again he leapt the instant it cracked down; this time landing on his back and not Daniea's.
The familiar pain burst stars in his vision as he stood holding Daniea's sagging form against his; guarding her back with his own. Again the whip came down tearing through his jacket, scratching at his scarred back. The captain then realizing he wasn't going to move slowly lowered the whip, waiting for judgement to be called once again.
"What in all god's green Earth do you think you're doing?" The Judge yelled.
"This woman belongs to me, you have no right to harm my property without my consent." Jamie mumbled, trying to remember some of the information he had picked up from Ned over the years.
"Property? She is a whore." Germain shrieked.
"Aye, but she is my mistress. I am her patron, therefore she is mine." he lied.
"If she is your mistress, then why is she working in a brothel." Germain questioned.
"That is between her and I, Monsieur."
The judge then burst in, "Regardless, she still needs to be punished for attacking this gentlemen."
"I shall punish her in my own manner." Jamie spat.
"No, not good enough I demand retribution!" Germain screamed.
Jamie took a deep breath, moving away from Daniea. She watched on as he slowly removed his jacket and began unbuttoning his vest.
"Then since she is mine, I shall take the remainder of her punishment if the judge would allow it."
"No…" Daniea whispered.
"I do not accept that!" Screamed Germain, yet the Judge looked inquisitive.
"It is allowed, if he does in fact own the woman then he can take her stead as long as he guarantees she will be punished accordingly."
"Thankyou monsieur," Jamie answered, thankful that his idea held true.
Slowly the guards removed Daniea, unshackled her, and laid her on the floor next to the post. She curled up into the fetal position, unable to take her eyes off Jamie who had removed his shirt, inducing a collective gasp from the crowd at the sight of his back.
He leaned down and gently stroked her cheek, " I deserve this for every pain I have caused you Mo fiadhaich aon."
Jamie then turned, grabbing the post and nodded for the captain to begin again.
