Page 20 of Scourged
“What a pity.” He glanced at his guards. “Replace her gag.”
The scrap of fabric was just as disgusting as the first time as it slid back between her teeth.
“It seems our little whore queen still has a bit of a mouth on her. Nice to know we haven’t broken her spirit … yet.” Shawth laughed, eyes glimmering with dark maliciousness. Mariah’s blood ran cold as he gazed down at her.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mariah.”
The lords leftMariah there in the corner, bound and gagged and starved, as they continued to eat and drink and enjoy an evening of squawking merriment.
Mariah did her best to tune it out. Did her best to ignore them, to pretend she was the only one in that room. To pretend the lack of attention from a dark-haired son seated at the end of the table didn’t shred her already broken heart into smaller, twisted pieces.
Not that she would prefer his attention. That had proven to be just as damaging. Her scars itched.
Perhaps the glimmer she’d seen in his remarkable eyes had been an illusion, a play in the dim light, a sick joke from her crippled mind. It cracked something inside her further open, but a part of her had suspected that this was the truth all along, that she’d been fooled as easily as they mocked her for.
She was lost in the dark ocean of those thoughts when movement caught her attention. Mariah’s eyes darted up to see a pretty, dark-haired girl close to her age sauntering out from the crowd, a sneer twisting her features.
Mariah inspected the girl as she neared. She was shorter than Mariah, skin pale from a lifetime spent within castle walls. Long, chocolate tresses draped across her shoulders, her honey-brown eyes set in a regal face glimmering with superiority.
She was beautiful, and well-bred, and obviously sent to torment Mariah. But Mariah had spent her whole life dealing with girls like this.
Mariah lifted her head, a hint of a challenge.
The girl paused a few feet from Mariah, gripping a chair and sliding it away from a small table nearby. She placed itbeside Mariah but just out of arms-reach, sitting down primly, smoothing down the folds of her rich red gown.
“I thought it was time to introduce myself. You don’t know me, but I certainly know you.” Her eyes did a sweeping pass of Mariah’s bound and filthy form, lip curling. “Hard to say I’m impressed. This image you paint here is just pathetic. Hardly suitable for a queen.” She swept her dark hair off her shoulder, settling in the chair.
“My name is Anniliese Hareth, daughter of Royal Lord Hareth,” the girl—Anniliese—continued, before locking her brown gaze on Mariah, angry, vengeful fire dancing in their depths. “And I should’ve been Chosen as the next queen; not you.”
Everything in Mariah went too-still. She hardly thought she was breathing. She realized that while this girl looked unassuming enough, she had more reason than most in that room to hate her.
Which was certainly saying something.
“Everyone thought it would be me. I was born at the right time, I come from a Royal house, and I do not have magic. When I received Queen Ryenne’s summons, a great celebration was held in Ettervan. I’d been bred and raised to take the throne, and I was ready.” Her delicate hands tightened into fists, smooth brows furrowing.
“Until the day of the Choosing, when the magic, for whatever reason, slipped over my head and chose you instead.” Anniliese’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as she stared out at the room. Blood flushed into her cheeks. “You, a merecommoner, with no training or respect or dignity. Nothing more than a whore from the crossroads.”
Mariah was surprised the girl didn’t turn and spit at her, just to get the point across. Though she didn’t feel any anger at Anniliese’s words. Perhaps she was too tired, too hungry, to care.She’d been called so much worse just in the last hour; nothing Anniliese said was original.
Anniliese shifted in her chair. “I don’t understand why they even bother keeping you alive. We all thought you would have been taken care of a week ago. I say they should just kill you now. Only a few months have passed since the Choosing; I know the magic would flow to me. Where it belongs. And I’ll get what I was always meant to have.”
Her words were impassioned and manic, but Mariah heard something lost and broken in them.
For a moment, Mariah felt sorry for Anniliese. She was just like Ciana, like so many other girls in Onita, in so many ways. Told to be only one thing her entire life, molded to fit the needs and desires of men who didn’t truly care for her.
She hated herself for feeling it.
“But, if you die … I wonder what happens to your Armature?”
That streak of sympathy vanished in a flash of anger and fear.
Every muscle in Mariah’s body tensed. She clenched her already sore jaw tighter around the gag, fingernails digging into her palms so hard she was sure she broke the skin.
When Mariah saw Anniliese’s eyes take on a dark glint as they focused on where Andrian sat at the table beside her father, everything in her mind went blank.
“Well … at the very least, I’m gladheisn’t bonded to you. No need to worry that far, then.” Anniliese turned back to Mariah, her eyes cold and assessing. “He is quite nice to look at, isn’t he? I’ve known him my whole life. Every time I visited Verith with my father, I would visit Andrian, too. Despite our age difference, we shared a special bond—because we were both Royal, of course. I do hope that no matter what ends up happening to you, I’ll be allowed to keep him. This is simply where he belongs.”
The emptiness Mariah felt made it easy to keep her emotions from her face. Everything was cold and dark, and she was vacant.