The next morning, Lucille woke up with a terrible headache. The bruise on her forehead only made it worse, and now she felt a slight fever coming on.
She sluggishly sat up, her eyes fixed on the wall, her body aching everywhere. The pain was unbearable, and even though she had been given pain relief at the clinic, it didn't seem to help much.
Maybe she had been too hopeful about the painkillers working. The clinic often used substandard drugs, and the Commoners typically relied on herbs they prepared themselves for healing.
Perhaps she should ask her mother for some herbs.
Her door opened, and Louis hurried in, rushing to her side. "How are you?" he asked, gently taking her arm, his face clouded with worry.
"You've got a fever!" he whispered, concern in his voice.
"My whole body hurts, Louis," Lucille replied, her voice hoarse from the pain and her breathing shallow.
"It's from the fall," he said softly, moving closer to examine her forehead.
"I don't think the medicine worked," he sighed sadly.
Her forehead had swelled more since the night before, and it looked tender. She must be in terrible pain.
"Hold on, I'll get some herbs," Louis said quickly, rushing out of the room.
Lucille shifted back against the wall, her mind replaying the events of the previous night.
She wished she could erase everything that had happened. If only Edward hadn't taken her rejection so badly, if he could've been pleased that she turned him down, and then spoken to his father, the High Councilor, to lessen her punishment.
But deep down, she knew Edward would want her punished, and severely at that.
Louis soon returned, carrying a cup of herbal liquid. "Here," he said, rushing to her and handing her the cup.
"Thank you," Lucille said quietly, and slowly drank the bitter liquid, the taste harsh on her tongue.
"You'll feel better soon," Louis reassured her, gently wiping the herb stains from her lips.
"I'll freshen up first," Lucille said, handing the cup back to Louis.
"Then you'll eat and regain your strength," he added before leaving the room to give her some privacy.
After breakfast, Lucille lay back on the bed, exhausted. Her brother sat beside her, his caring eyes scanning her face as he carefully applied more herbs to her forehead.
Since the morning, their mother hadn't come to check on her. Lucille was sure her mother knew about her condition; she must have seen Louis with the herbs. Yet, she hadn't come in to see her.
"Mom..." Lucille whispered, her voice tinged with sadness.
"Don't worry about her. She'll get through it," Louis interrupted softly.
Lucille hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you think I shouldn't have broken the bond?" Her voice was full of pain.
Louis paused, putting the herbs down, and looked at her seriously. "Do you want the truth?" he asked gently. Lucille nodded, her eyes wide with expectation.
"That bond was long overdue to be broken," he whispered.
"You shouldn't stay tied to someone who would watch you suffer under the cruelty of others."
A small smile touched Lucille's lips. "Thank you, Louis," she said, her voice carrying a flicker of warmth.
"No matter what the judgment is, I'll take it. But always take care of Mom," she added, her voice faltering as she spoke.
"We will face it together, Lucy. Not just you," Louis said, giving her a heartwarming smile.
"Rest now. Your body needs it," he said gently, helping her lay back on the bed. Then, he stood up, ready to leave.
"And don't worry so much about the judgment. We've been made strong enough to endure the cruelty of those in charge," he added before walking out of the room.
Alone in her room, Lucille stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind tangled with thoughts. She shut her eyes, and soon the exhaustion of the day pulled her into a deep sleep.
The loud slam of the door jolted her awake. Panic rushed through her as her brother hurried in, his breath coming in fast, shallow gasps.
"They're here," he said, his voice barely more than a broken whisper.
Lucille looked at him in confusion, her heart racing. "Who?"
"The State Wardens," he replied, his eyes filled with pain and worry.
Her eyes widened in shock. Her breathing became erratic, and she clutched her brother's arm in desperation. "Mom made me go to that party!" Her voice cracked, and tears spilled from her eyes.
"It's her fault. I said I wouldn't go, but she insisted. Now look what's happened," she whispered, her body trembling as sobs wracked her.
Louis stared at her with anguish, his heart aching at the sight of his sister breaking down.
"They're close to the house," he said, trying to calm her.
Slowly, he lifted her face and placed a gentle kiss on her bruised forehead, the swelling having slightly reduced. He locked eyes with her, his voice thick with emotion.
"Please, be strong. It hurts me that I can't do anything to help," he whispered, his own tears just below the surface.
Lucille nodded, her eyes filled with sorrow, and slowly she got out of bed. She glanced around the room, and fresh tears began to fall.
"I love you, brother," she said quietly, then threw herself into his arms.
"I love you too, sis," he murmured, his voice heavy with bitterness and helplessness. He held her tightly, but eventually, he slowly pulled away.
Taking her hand, they left the room together, stepping out into the unknown with dread and fear settling in their hearts.
As they stepped outside, the State Wardens approached the house. Behind them were her fellow Commoners, gathered in small groups, their curious eyes watching to see what was happening. The presence of the Wardens in the pack could only mean one thing, a Commoner had committed an offense.
Lucille and Louis stood at the front of their house, their hands tightly interlocked as the Wardens drew closer. Just as they arrived, Veronica stepped out, standing beside them. Her face was swollen, and Lucille could tell she had been crying since the previous night.
Lucille quickly turned her gaze away from Veronica, not wanting to engage with her in that moment. She focused instead on the Wardens, standing in front of them with cold authority.
"Lucille Clinton," the chief warden said fiercely, "We are here by the order of the Council cabinet. Follow us."
Lucille glanced at her brother, giving him a small nod. "I'll be fine," she whispered softly, then reluctantly let go of his hand.
One of the Wardens stepped forward, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Without resistance, Lucille stretched her arms out, and under the watchful eyes of her people, the cold metal clicked around her wrist. She was then swiftly escorted away.
A loud wail echoed in her ears, it was her mother. The same woman who had never once asked how Lucille had gotten her swollen forehead. The same woman who hadn't bothered to check on her when she was ill and in pain.
Louis glanced at their mother with a heavy heart before turning and heading back into the house, his face filled with sorrow.
Lucille was roughly shoved into the vehicle by a female warden, and the vehicle sped off, its siren blaring.