Chapter 3
"Imperial official?" the guard said.
The guard spat on the floor, his jowly face quivering.
"He's nothing but a prisoner now. Feeling sorry for him? If you care that much, why don't you haul him out on your own back?" he said.
As he spoke, he shoved a battered old handcart her way.
"Get him on there. Don't make me waste my precious time," the guard said.
Nora gritted her teeth.
Her body was so weak now that there was no way she could move a man like Caleb who was six-foot-three.
But she refused to let anyone else touch him.
Deep down, she knew he was her only hope on this road to exile, as long as he woke up.
She used every ounce of strength she had, managing to drag Caleb onto the battered handcart.
Sweat drenched her clothes, her wounds reopened, and her collar was stained crimson with blood.
The York family members around her looked blank and numb, too busy worrying about themselves to even think of helping her.
Some even shot her venomous glares, full of blame.
"It's all her fault. The second this walking disaster showed up, we got exiled."
"Yeah. The Johnston family is cursed. Nothing good ever comes from them."
Nora gave them a frosty stare but didn't say a word.
'What a bunch of idiots,' she thought.
If she hadn't secretly slipped an antidote into the York family's well last night, Caleb would've been dead by now.
The exile procession set out in a long, imposing line.
As soon as they passed through the city gates, they spotted the Johnston family waiting there.
Daniel was standing at the city gate with Rowena, putting on a show of seeing them off.
Rowena had changed into a simple white dress, carrying a lunchbox in her hands, her eyes red from crying.
"Nora," Rowena said.
She hurried over, seemingly wanting to hand the lunchbox to Nora.
The guard immediately blocked her path. "What are you doing? Do not get near!"
Rowena slipped some silver coins into the guard's hand, her voice gentle. "Officer, could you please let me give my sister some food?"
The guard weighed the silver coins in his hand, then stepped aside.
Rowena came over to Nora and opened the lunchbox.
Inside was a bowl of sour, leftover swill, with a few chewed-up chicken bones floating on top.
The sour stench hit Nora like a punch to the face.
Rowena covered her nose and mouth, but her voice was sweet as honey. "Nora, I made this special tonic soup just for you. I heard the road to exile is rough, short on food and warmth. You should drink it while it's still warm."
The townsfolk started gossiping around them.
"Rowena is such a saint. Even though her sister's being sent away, she still comes to see her off."
"Yeah, Nora's so ungrateful. She even threatened to murder her whole family. What a treacherous wretch!"
Nora stared at the bowl of sour swill, her stomach twisting in disgust.
She looked up, catching Rowena's eyes, which sparkled with spiteful delight.
"Save it for yourself, Rowena," Nora said.
Suddenly, she slapped the lunchbox right out of Rowena's hands.
Splash!
The sour swill splattered all over Rowena, and a few chicken bones ended up dangling from her fancy shoes.
"Ah!" Rowena shrieked, jumping back in shock.
Her carefully maintained ladylike facade crumbled in an instant.
"Nora! You bitch!" Rowena yelled.
She raised her hand, ready to slap Nora.
But Nora caught her wrist in a flash.
She leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper meant only for Rowena. "Don't think I don't know you drugged Henry to get into his bed. Rowena, this isn't over between us."
Rowena's pupils contracted, her face turning as pale as a sheet.
How on earth did Nora know?' she thought.
Before she could react, Nora released her wrist, turned, grabbed the handcart, and melted into the exile procession without a backward glance.
"Move!" the guard barked.
He lashed his whip across Nora's back.
The whip tore through her clothes, splitting her skin and leaving bloody welts.
Nora stifled a groan, gritting her teeth as she dragged the heavy cart, step by step, toward whatever hell awaited her.
Behind her, Rowena's glare was full of poison, and Daniel's cold, unfeeling back faded into the distance.
The city gates creaked shut.
And with that, the first half of Nora's life was sealed away for good.
The sun beat down mercilessly, the heat so fierce it made the earth shimmer.
The exile procession had been trudging along for three days now.
In all that time, Nora hadn't had a single drop of water.
The York family, even though they were exiled too, had plenty of people and some silver coins hidden away. They'd quietly bribe the guards now and then, just to get a drink.
Nora, on the other hand, was completely isolated and an easy target for everyone.
"Move it! You got a death wish or something?" a voice shouted.
Toby Hayes, the head guard, was a burly brute with a bulldog face and a mean streak a mile wide.
He'd pocketed Rowena's silver coins, and now he found new ways to torment Nora every single day.
Smack!
Another whip cracked across Noras's back.
Nora staggered, nearly collapsing to the ground.
She licked her cracked, bleeding lips, her throat burning like she'd swallowed a knife.
Caleb was still out cold on the cart, but his wounds were already festering, the stench of rot hanging in the air.
"This cripple's already starting to stink. Why are we even dragging him along?" a female voice said.
Amanda Lowe, the aunt-in-law from the York family's main branch approached, pinching her nose in disgust, and kicked the cart hard.