Chapter 263
Willow stared at the smelly shoe on the ground and let out a piercing shriek. She had never been so humiliated. She was the dignified Marchioness of Sumers, yet here she was, being pelted with rotten shoes, wilted vegetables, and spoiled milk.
Nona, terrified, rushed to shield Willow and urged, “Lady Willow, get in the carriage, quickly!”
Only then did Willow snap out of her daze and, under the frantic protection of Hons and the others (practically petrified), the coachman whipped the horses into a frenzy, and the hideous mob chased after them, hurling curses and pelting the carriage with whatever they could find.
Whatever was in their hands—stones, rotten eggs, moldy vegetables—was hurled at the carriage. Each object struck the carriage with heavy, echoing thuds, making the whole vehicle shudder. Willow cowered in the corner of the carriage, clutching her ears, her screams unending.
It wasn’t until the carriage reached Peace Street and the crowd saw the patrol guards that they finally scattered. Willow’s face turned ashen, her eyes brimming with tears. Nona stole a nervous glance at her and whispered, “Lady Willow…”
Without warning, Willow slapped Nona hard across the face with a resounding crack. Nona seemed to have expected it; she didn’t dare make a sound, just kowtowed frantically, her forehead nearly touching the floor as she begged for forgiveness. “My lady, I was wrong! I truly know my mistake—please, my lady, spare me.”
The thought of that filthy shoe made Willow practically boil with rage. She pointed a finger at Nona’s nose and snapped, “You worthless wretch! How dare you? When danger arose, you didn’t protect me; you even had the audacity to hide!”
The stench still seemed to linger at the tip of her nose, making Willow’s stomach churn with nausea. Nona, face streaked with tears, pleaded, “My lady, I didn’t mean to. Please, have mercy on me!”
Willow was nearly beside herself with fury, her eyes cold and vicious as she ordered, “Slap yourself. Don’t stop until I say so.”
Nona froze for a moment, then understood Willow’s meaning. Sniffling, she choked out a “Yes,” then brought her hand down viciously across her own face. With a crisp crack, her cheek flared crimson.
But Willow was far from satisfied. Leaning back against the carriage, her expression icy, she said, “Continue. I haven’t told you to stop.”
“Yes, my lady.” Nona knew she wouldn’t escape unscathed this time. She closed her eyes, wrung her arm with full force, and slapped herself again and again. As she hit herself, she murmured over and over, "I failed to protect my lady."
Willow closed her eyes in satisfaction, savoring the intoxicating pleasure that power brought her.
As the carriage pulled up at the Osborne family estate, Willow opened them. She didn’t manage to get the medicine for Kelsey, and she had come back looking a mess. She wondered what Michael's reaction would be. She didn’t even know if Michael had returned from the palace yet. With a heart full of unease, Willow felt utterly drained.
She glanced at Nona, whose face was swollen like a pig’s head, and raised her hand slightly. “That’s enough. Stop,” she added.
Nona’s cheeks were so pulpy and numb that she could barely feel the pain anymore. She knelt in gratitude, her face streaked with tears. “Thank you, my lady, for sparing my life.”
Willow shot her an irritated look. “We didn’t get the medicine. What are we supposed to do now?”
Nona rolled her eyes thoughtfully and offered, “My lady, you could always blame that wretched woman and say she made things difficult for you on purpose. Lord Osborne probably won’t bother to check the truth himself.”
Willow didn’t like the idea, but right now, she had no better options.
Willow lifted her skirt and stepped out of the carriage just as the steward hurried over, his face frantic. “Lady Willow, you’re finally back—something’s happened at the estate!”
The last thing Willow wanted to hear was that something had gone wrong. Her eyes widened. “What now?”
“It’s… it’s a messenger from the palace,” the steward stammered, clearly flustered.
“What? Then where is Lord Osborne?” Willow was so startled she nearly lost her footing. Visitors from the palace never brought good news.
The steward, still anxious, said, “His Lordship hasn’t returned yet. The Queen sent her matron, and she’s waiting in the front hall right now.”
Willow gasped. If it were good news, Michael wouldn’t still be out. The Queen sent someone—could it be for her?
Feeling a knot of unease tighten in her stomach, Willow finally reached the front hall—just as she feared, the Queen’s matron was already standing there, ramrod straight.
Willow’s scalp tingled as she stepped forward. “Matron, forgive my late greeting. May I ask what brings you here?”
Though only a servant, the matron served at the Queen’s side and showed not a hint of fear, even before Willow. In a calm, measured tone, the matron announced, “By order of Her Majesty the Queen, I am here to admonish you.”
“Admonish me?” Willow’s heart clenched. So it really is about me, she thought in panic. She slowly knelt, her face full of helplessness. “I accept your admonition.”
“Lady Willow, you have acted without virtue or decorum, spreading rumors that led people astray and nearly caused disaster. Her Majesty decrees: as this is your first offense, you are to receive fifty slaps as a warning. Should there be a next time, there will be no leniency.”
As the matron finished reciting the decree, Willow’s face turned deathly pale, and she collapsed inwardly. Would she even survive fifty slaps?
“Lady Willow, forgive me.” The head maid, face expressionless, stepped up.
Willow let out a sharp scream, clutching her cheek… in her panic, she fumbled out a pouch of silver, trying to bribe the matron. “Matron, please!”
The matron’s eyes widened in shock, staring at Willow as if she were a leper. How dare she bribe the Queen’s envoy! Willow might not understand this was the Emperor’s edict. Besides, there were people from the Heaven Hall here as witnesses. With Lord Osborne still at court, and Willow dared cause such a scene after only one slap—she was utterly reckless.
“Lady Willow, I am only carrying out orders. Please, don’t make things difficult for me,” the matron said coldly, her eyes signaling Willow to abandon her foolish thoughts.
Willow, terrified, covered her face and pleaded pitifully, “Matron, if you hit me fifty times, my face will be ruined.”
Seeing her stubbornness, the matron feared she might say something even more outrageous and implicate the Queen. Her face hardened as she barked, “Hold her down!”
Two palace maids stepped forward and pinned Willow firmly in place. Immediately, the matron’s slaps began to rain down.
The resounding slaps echoed through the hall. Willow’s screams turned to sobs as she cried out in pain, her wails echoed throughout the Osborne residence. The servants were so frightened they didn’t dare lift their heads, but in their hearts, they thought, This is truly over now. The Osborne family has become a complete laughingstock.
The matron was unmoved by Willow’s pitiful state, maintaining her full strength until all fifty slaps had been delivered. With the punishment completed, the matron admonished gravely, “Lady Willow, I hope you will reflect on this; in the future, think twice before you act.”
Her duty fulfilled, the matron offered Lady Willow a curt, formal bow, then turned and left without a backward glance. Willow’s face was grotesquely swollen, and she couldn’t make a sound. The numb, throbbing pain in her cheeks pulsed with every heartbeat.
Nona took one look at her and realized Willow was in an even worse state than she ever was. Though fear lingered in her heart, she couldn’t help but feel a secret thrill. Those palace matrons don’t hit like ordinary servants, Nona thought, Willow’s face will probably take at least ten days, maybe even half a month, to recover.
“My lady, let me help you up,” Nona said softly as she stepped forward to support Willow.
Willow was as limp as a rag doll, utterly drained; she didn’t even have the strength to scold her.