Page 166 of Scourged

“And who are you, daughter of the moon, to claim such things?”

“I am Mariah Salis, born of Wes Salis and Lisabel Ginnelevé. I come from Andburgh. I carry Onita in my blood, and the magic of the goddesses in my soul.”

Goddesses.

Not goddess.

The room stilled at her change to the words. She’d told Ciana and Andrian of her plan, to claim her throne not just under Qhohena, but Zadione as well.

Mariah hadn’t warned Ryenne, though. She’d told the queen about the other magic she bore, but that wasn’t this. And for a moment, she feared what Ryenne might say.

The old queen stepped forward, her hand lifting from Kalen’s arm. She laid that hand across her chest, above her heart. Her fingers clenched into a fist as she uttered words that stopped Mariah’s heart.

“Then by Qhohena and Zadione’s grace, may you claim your throne.”

When Ryenne’s head dipped, gray hair falling around her face, Mariah’s heart beat again.

Those beats turned into a pounding drum as Ryenne’s Armature bowed their heads, mimicking their queen. When her ladies knelt into curtsies.

The young priestess—Liliane—stepped out from between the pillars, a shy smile on her face as she dipped her head, pale gold robes brushing the floor.

Ryenne lifted her head at the priestess’s arrival, meeting Mariah’s stare with warmth in her eyes before turning to Liliane and reseating herself upon the throne. “With the absence of our high priestess, Liliane will assist in your ascension.”

Liliane gave another small nod and smile, standing beside Ryenne as Kalen seated himself on the dais.

With one final, deep inhale, Mariah gathered her skirts and ascended the dais.

Every step felt heavy, weighted with the burdens of her past and future.

Whore.

Sister.

Unworthy.

Daughter.

Murderer.

Queen.

She reached the top of the dais, where Ryenne waited for her.

The old queen smiled. A real, true smile, perhaps the first Mariah had seen on her face in a long, long time.

“I am so proud of you, Mariah. Do not let this kingdom make you into anything other than what you are.”

Mariah swallowed. “If I end up as half the queen you are, Ryenne, then I will be happy enough.”

“No,” Ryenne answered, her smile softening with sadness. “You do not want to be half the queen I was. I was not a good queen. You will be much, much greater.”

Mariah wasn’t sure she could answer without tears, so she only clenched her jaw and nodded once.

Ryenne turned to Liliane. “We await you, priestess.”

Liliane dipped her head, a fresh blush on her face. Mariah remembered how young the priestess was—barely out of girlhood and yet thrust into a ceremony that had only happened ten other times in Onitan history.

It brought Mariah great happiness to know that Ksee would live—and die—without such an honor, but this young woman who had risked everything to stand for what she knew was right had it now.

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