Chapter 40: Morning Ride and Brutality

The soft golden light of early morning draped over the vast Wycliffe fields like a warm shawl. The stables buzzed with quiet activity: grooms brushing down horses, stable boys tugging open the large wooden doors to let in the crisp air. Horses whinnied in the distance, their breaths steaming in the chill, and the soft thump of hooves echoed as Juliana brought her mare into a smooth canter across the glistening paddock.

Dressed in a smart forest-green riding coat with gold buttons and high leather boots, Juliana sat tall and poised in her saddle atop a sleek white mare, her riding coat of navy blue fitting snugly at her waist, hair gathered in a neat braid that peeked beneath her hat. She looked serene, at ease, a noblewoman of poise and charm but her heart fluttered with every pass near the stable's edge where he stood.

Thomas was already out tending to the horses, the morning sun catching the edge of his tousled chestnut hair. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms dusted with hay and dirt, and his eyes lifted each time she passed by quick, darting glances that burned with everything they couldn't say aloud.

Their eyes locked again for a fleeting second, his full of quiet yearning, hers soft with guilt and longing.

Julio, busy brushing down a stallion nearby, noticed the silent exchange. His eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressing into a firm line. He said nothing but the tightening grip on the brush in his hand betrayed his unease.

Then came the sound of heavy boots crunching against the gravel. Lord Emilio.

He strode into the stable yard with the leisurely arrogance of a man who believed the earth turned at his pleasure. Draped in a finely embroidered riding coat of hunter green and mahogany leather gloves, he looked every inch the idle noble save for the dangerous gleam in his eye.

"Good morning, cousin," Emilio drawled, striding across the yard in his tailored riding clothes, trimmed with extravagant fur. "Out for your usual morning prance, I see."

Juliana tensed in the saddle. "Yes. I was just out for a short gallop. You usually sleep till noon."

"Well, today I'm making an exception," he said, eyes shifting toward Thomas. "I believe the fresh air might help clear my head."

She straightened in her saddle. "There's no need. I'm just finishing up..."

"Nonsense," he interrupted. "You always complain I never do anything with you. Here I am." His voice lowered, edged with meaning. "Don't be rude."

Thomas stood nearby, silent but alert, eyes carefully trained downward.

Juliana's jaw tightened, but she said nothing more.

Emilio walked over to his horse and glanced at the saddle. "Hmm," he mused. "Seems someone forgot to provide me a proper step."

Emilio's eyes shifted toward Thomas, who stood stiffly beside a saddled gelding.

"You there," Emilio snapped.

Thomas stepped forward with a polite bow. "Milord?"

"Get down on all fours."

There was a pause. Thomas blinked. "...Pardon, milord?"

"I said, get down on all fours." Emilio pointed to the ground beside his horse. "Get down and make yourself useful. I won't be twisting my back climbing onto that beast."

Juliana's eyes widened. "Emilio stop. That's outrageous."

"He's a servant, Juliana," Emilio said coolly. "His back is as good a mounting block as any."

"I said stop," she said more firmly. "That's not how we treat people."

His smug expression faltered. The men nearby; grooms and stablehands had all gone silent, eyes on the unfolding scene.

" You're being disgusting."

Emilio turned to her slowly, the smirk hardening into a sneer. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. He's not an animal."

The look Emilio gave her darkened. "You would embarrass me over a stable rat?"

"I would not watch you degrade another human being," she said hotly. "Not him. Not anyone."

A muscle ticked in Emilio's jaw. "You're scolding me now? In front of the help?"

Emilio's nostrils flared. "You insolent little..."

Julio stepped forward quickly, head bowed. "My lord, please...young Thomas didn't mean..."

"Did I say you could speak?" Emilio snapped, then turned, fury blazing in his eyes.

With a sudden fury, he turned and struck Thomas across the side of the head with his riding crop.

Juliana gasped. "Emilio!"

Thomas grunted, staggered back but didn't fall. He stood firm.

But Emilio wasn't finished. He grabbed Thomas by the collar and kicked him in the ribs, again and again, snarling through clenched teeth.

Juliana screamed, "Stop it! Are you mad?!"

"Servants are nothing," Emilio shouted, his breath ragged with rage. "They eat our food, walk our halls, and forget their place!"

He landed another blow, this time to Thomas's leg, causing him to finally collapse to one knee. He didn't cry out but only gritted his teeth, blood on his lip, trying not to show weakness. He dared not even lift his arms to block the next strike.

Julio dropped beside his son, arms outstretched.

"My lord, I beg you," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "He's just a boy!"

"You think I care?" Emilio seethed, panting, eyes wild. "I'm a Wycliffe. I can do what I damn well please!"

"Please, milord!" Julio rushed forward, falling to his knees in front of him. "Please...he's my son. He didn't mean any offense."

Emilio sneered at the old man. "Then raise him better, or next time I'll beat you both."

Juliana jumped down from her horse, her voice shrill and trembling. "You're a monster!"

Her words rang across the field like a slap.

Emilio turned, his chest heaving but something in her expression stopped him.

Her fury was real.

Tears streaked down her cheeks, her lips trembling with both shame and helpless anger.

Emilio scrowled but didn't strike again. He spat on the ground near Thomas's head and stalked off toward the manor.

Silence lingered.

Juliana stood frozen, the wind lifting strands of hair from her face. She knelt beside Thomas, her gloved hands trembling as she touched his shoulder. He winced but didn't pull away.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, eyes brimming with helpless rage and sorrow.

Thomas only gave a faint shake of his head. "Don't… apologize."

Julio gently helped his son sit up, his own face pale with shame and fury he dared not voice.

Juliana stood there, fists clenched, eyes fixed on the direction Emilio had gone.

She didn't speak again.

But in that moment, something inside her hardened.