Naiobe watches the girl shake for a moment, taking up the whip. She turns it over in her hands, enjoying the feel of the leather in her palms. "I expect you to remain upright," she says in her low voice. "If you stumble, or if you collapse, I will whip you until you lose consciousness, hang you in the main hall, and, depending on my whim, leave you there until you starve to death." She reached out to run her fingers over the back of the girl's neck, then stepped back and raised the whip. Without warning, she began to lay into the girl's back. Though the strokes were slow and soft according to Naiobe's standards, they were likely still agony for Marissa.