Was he crazy to want to laugh?

Warning: blood and stuff

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March's consciousness hung by a thread. But the blazing agony that came with each strike snatched his mind right back to reality.

Was he crazy to want to laugh?

"Don't laugh! You crazy fool!" Another strike came down upon him and the world was flashing in front of his eyes. Chains rattled. His body was slumped and without much strength. He was suspended with two rusty old chains that pulled his arms apart, his knees just barely scrapping the ground for leverage. Not that it mattered, he had no more strength. And even if his joints threatened to pop and muscles tear he couldn't bring his body to do a thing. A thick musk, iron, and moldy filth left the air thick. March lamented how he'd die in a place as such.

January had no mercy for him though and he wasn't disillusioned to believe otherwise. Another strike came down. Barbs cut into his flesh. His back had become nothing more than a gory red mess. His consciousness wavered again.

Only to be brought back by more agony and pain.

Hahaha. How long was this going to last?

March was going insane.

They didn't call Emperor Wenliang the Mad Emperor for nothing! Ahahahaha!

"What the hell is so funny!?" January, peeved, put even more power in her strike. With a knight's body, she did not tire easily. Hah! The merciless sentinel that she was! "Do you think this is so funny!? Committing such a crime! Are you not ashamed? Aren't you supposed to be the Knight!?"

Octivia, unlike January, always had a much more muted and uncaring. March couldn't decide which version he liked better.

By the time the dungeon doors swung open his vision was but a blur. March was struggling to make sense of his surroundings.

"What is going on here!" The Princess thrust opened the wooden doors and was assaulted by the dense scent of rot. She almost gagged but maintained her noble composure. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side and she tried to remind herself it was okay.

She still had magic.

March's body was slouched in his binds, his hair wet fro sweat and blood. Not a single inch of skin on his back was left unmarred and what was left was but a giant painting of red gore, torn muscle, broken flesh. Ceci couldn't see his face and only saw that his head was hanging there without any signs of awareness.

Guilt knifed her in the gut. Ceci chewed her bottom lip but otherwise remained calm.

January gasped, momentarily stunned by the sudden outburst. But she was quick to turn to the Princess and school her expression with an elegant bow. "Greetings Princess."

December was at the Princess's side, horror-stricken when he bore witness to the sorry state his friend was in. "This isn't right," he schooled his expression and gave January a scolding glare, "you've gone overboard."

January was cold, "If you knew his crime then you would understand that this punishment is just and fitting."

"January!" Flickers of anger broke through December's usual calm composure, "He's your friend too! There's no need for something like this! Do you not know of kindness!?"

"March's crime is punishable by death!" January cried in protest.

What were they even yelling about? The Princess thought absently through the fog of sadness that clouded her heart. March always invoked the most visceral feeling of guilt within her. Oh, how could she let this happen to him? "January," Princess Ceci said softly.

The two immediately stopped their bickering, backs straightened, and eyes lowered. "Highness."

"Princess."

The Princess looked up at them but they could not hold her interest, "So March has committed a crime," she hummed, with the maturity of a queen.

"Yes, Princess." January replied, "He smuggled an illegal magical tool into the castle. Such a thing is punishable by death-"

"Even so!" December cut her off but was flustered when the Princess's gaze turned towards him. "Highness," he lowered his head even further, "please reconsider March's punishment. He has been nothing but loyal to us all. And even if he is deserving of death… There is no need for this senseless torture."

There was a moment of silence. "Please raise your heads," the Princess commanded. First, she looked to December, "Do you think that I'm cruel?"

He blinked at her, not knowing what she could even be referring to or why she would ask, "What? No, I never-"

She smiled at him and cut him off, "You've always been the one with the most faith in this heart of mine." She nodded, as though reaffirming her feelings. It came as no surprise. The Gardener's job was to tend and care for the blossoms of love and hate that bloomed and wilted within her.

But December only frowned, not understanding. Ceci was kind, just as Cecilia was. He saw her as no different from each other.

Princess Ceci then turned her gaze towards her Maid, "January."

"Yes, Princess."

"So March has violated the law of our lovely Arcadia."

"Yes, Princess."

"Then, I must ask. Just what in Arcadia is the law?"

January blinked, stunned. She opened her mouth only to close it again. Her eyes trembled, fearing to look up. "It's…you. You're the law, Princess."

"So you know. Good. Raise your head."

January looked up only in time to see the Princess's hand come down and slap her across the face. Gold flashed in ruby eyes, "Know your place!" She howled at her maid, "I'm the one who gets to decide what gets punished and how!"

A trembling hand held the cheek that had been slapped. But January, ever so loyal, only bowed before the Princess and pleaded, "I'm sorry Princess! I won't do something so foolishly or rashly again! You are the law!"

Princess Ceci wanted to punish her some more but the Princess was a fair ruler. She wasn't cruel. She wasn't--

And January was made loyal under her design. It wasn't the Maid's fault. "Okay, as long as you know. You are dismissed."

January bowed one last time, "Thank you, Princess, for your everlasting kindness." And with that, the Maid made herself scarce.

Princess Ceci sighed and turned her attention back to December, "Can you…?" help. She needed help to get March out of the chains. She needed someone to accompany her through the sadness that ate away at her. The guilt.

December nodded kindly. They made quick work of the shackles that held March up. When his body fell, Princess Ceci was there to catch him in her arms. March was heavy but Ceci didn't care.

She was about to ask December to help carry her foolish Knight to the infirmary but a light chuckle brushed against her neck. "March…?" She said cautiously.

March's voice was small and hoarse, "Really thought you would have executed me."

Her heart stuttered. She thought of a past, discarded. "How could I think I would do such a thing…?" Carefully, her arms circled around his neck, above his shoulder, careful not to touch any of the ugly gashes on his back.

He shrugged weakly and continued on, "If I had to choose, I would have liked to die in a duel."

She tightened her hold around him.

No...No duels. Not for March, nor for Ceci. Not in this lifetime.