Page 40 of Threaded

But Mariah only let out a tinkling laugh, shoving him playfully back. She was thankful he treated her like how she used to be—ordinary, normal, with nothing in her veins that set her apart from all the rest. “Keep working,boy, and one day maybe you’ll be able to pin me back.”

And just like that, Quentin’s grin returned. He tossed her a wink before turning towards a pile of water canteens resting against a tree at the edge of the clearing.

Mariah let her gaze follow him, lost in her thoughts for a moment before she felt the heavy weight of several stares on her. The rest of her Armature still stood there, watching her, most of their expressions a blend of mixed awe and blatant interest. Even Andrian, though he lingered as far from her as he could, couldn’t hide the disdainful surprise in his tanzanite eyes.

Suddenly, she felt an urge to move. Standing there, idly, a specimen being watched …

It hadn’t bothered her before, when she’d been in the pit with Quentin. But now, standing leisurely, it was making her skin itch. She turned toward the targets at the other end of the clearing; her feet, desperate for movement, carrying her quickly.

“I’m assuming there are arrows over here, as well?”

But before her question could be answered, a feminine cough sounded behind her. Mariah whirled to find Ciana standing on the edge of the clearing, dressed in leggings and a long cloak, unabashedly eyeing every single one of the men around Mariah. She had no idea when the other girl had arrived, or how long she’d been standing there, but Mariah nearly broke into hysterics at the expression on Ciana’s face. Her friend turned her gaze to meet Mariah’s, swallowing once before speaking.

“Goddess-damnyou, Mariah! One day with your new boyfriends and you’re already abandoning me. Next time, the least you could do is extend an invitation.”

CHAPTER18

“Absolutely not, Ciana. No. Not a chance.”

Ciana huffed, popping a hip and crossing her arms over her chest. “Ksee will be pissed if you don’t.”

Mariah barked a laugh before shrugging at her friend. “Ksee is always pissed at me. Wearing this …monstrosityisn’t going to change that.”

Lying on the bed before them was a massive emerald ballgown, the bodice consisting of a paneled corset, capped sleeves, and full tulle skirts. Mariah had hissed the second Ciana walked out of the closet with it, staggering under its weight, then had promptly sworn to Qhohena herself that the atrocious article of clothing would never touch her skin.

“Well, then, by all means, what do you want to wear, Your Majesty?”

“Don’t call me that,” Mariah grumbled, her fingers idly scratching at the layers of green tulle covering her white comforter. “It’s just a personal preference. For example, you like gin; I prefer whiskey.” She gestured to the dress. “This is another one of those preferences. Except, instead of this being gin, it’s backwoods piss-water that someone out near Tolona tried to call ale.”

Ciana only stared at her, her amber gaze thoroughly unamused.

“Don’t look at me like that, either,” Mariah said. “If green is the color Ksee wants me in today … then I might’ve seen something in the closet that will work. And don’t worry; you can assure the priestess it was all my idea.”

An hour earlier, Mariah had strode back into the palace, still sweaty and flanked by Ciana and her Armature, her tunic dangling from her fingers. And, naturally, the first person they’d encountered upon entering through one of the side-entrances nearest the stables was Ksee. The priestess had landed a crushing glare on Mariah, fires dancing in her eyes, and issued a pointed remark about the heightened expectations of Mariah’s new position. Mariah had nodded once before stalking away, not in the mood to enter another sparring match after the training that morning. She’d felt the priestess’s gaze burning a hole between her shoulders as she’d rounded the hallway corner, the feeling only vanishing when she was finally out of Ksee’s sight.

A part of her knew she should reconsider her approach to dealing with the priestess.

But she also had no interest in treating with a woman who clearly believed her to be inferior, just because of the circumstances of her birth. As if that were something she’d been capable of controlling.

Mere moments after she’d closed the door to her suites, stretching in the morning sun filtering in through the wall of windows, Ryenne had come bustling in, followed closely by Mikael, his strawberry blonde hair again pulled back by that strip of brown cloth. The chef went to work in the kitchen, the sounds and smells of breakfast food filling the space as Ryenne settled herself at the dining table. Mariah had excused herself to quickly shower, and when she’d reemerged had found a plate with poached eggs, fresh toast, and tomatoes waiting for her on the island.

Ryenne had spent no time waiting to quell the happiness that rose in Mariah at the spread of food.

“Today, you will be introduced to the heads of the Onitan Royal families.”

Mariah’s blood had run cold, and those twin balls of thread in her soul had roiled in response. They’d been resting so quietly all morning, content to lie dormant as she’d trained with her Armature. Now, though, at the mention of the Royals, they leapt and cracked through her veins as whips of burning light. Despite how delicious the food in front of her looked, she suddenly had no desire to eat any of it.

Ryenne had waited in silence, watching as Mariah stared blankly at her plate. When several long moments had passed without a response, the Queen spoke again.

“You knew this was coming, Mariah. They are the closest to nobility that the kingdom has. The Royals have always been important advisors to the crown, and it is important for the queen to heed their advice when she can.”

Mariah still didn’t respond. Eventually, Ryenne had heaved an aggravated huff and stood.

“This is expected of you, Mariah. The Royals arrived last night and will be ready to meet in an hour. You will attend; your queen commands it.” Mariah’s gaze had snapped to Ryenne, the Queen’s ocean eyes looking more like icy depths. And in that moment, Mariah knew she wasn’t speaking to the woman she’d come to respect, come to think of as a friend; she was speaking to herqueen. While the magic behind the crown now resided almost entirely within Mariah, she didn’t yet hold the true power within those palace walls.

So, Mariah heeded Ryenne’s words, and a little under an hour later, she stood with Ciana in her bathroom wearing the dress she’d pulled out of the depths of the closet.

“Alright,” Ciana said. “You win. This is a million times better.”

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