Threaded, p.8
Threaded, page 8
Ryenne gently released her grip on Mariah, gathering her skirts in her hands before turning to face the crowd at her back. Without being prompted, the young woman beside her followed her lead, her chin held high in a look of pure, wild defiance.
Despite herself, despite the intensity of the moment, Ryenne found herself barely able to suppress a grin. She saw so much of her younger self in this woman.
So much of herself and yet … so little, all at the same time.
Ryenne returned her attention to the throne room and the masses gathered before them. The air was heavy and viscous as the crowd stood frozen, their expectant gazes written with shock as they beheld the two women on the dais. The queen flashed a brilliant smile, her own presence slogging through the weight of the room.
She suddenly felt so weighted, so tired. She forced it away, forced herself to be their queen, pushed every scrap of royal exuberance she had left out into that cavernous room.
“And so it is done. Qhohena, in her brilliant wisdom, has made her choice known.”
She turned her gaze and her smile to the woman beside her. Mariah’s face was still a mask of pure indifference, but there was something else there, hidden deep in her green eyes.
It looked a lot like shock and a little like fear.
With a sudden, wild desperation, Ryenne shot a brief, pleading prayer to her goddess.
Guide her, Qhohena. She will need it.
Looking back out at the throne room, Ryenne finished her address.
“I present to you all, for the very first time, the new Queen Apparent of Onita: Mariah Salis.”
CHAPTER 9
Mariah sat at a great, wooden counsel table, its surface polished and gleaming, the sound of a great fire crackling and popping in the magnificent hearth, and had no idea how she’d gotten there.
She remembered Queen Ryenne’s words: “I present to you all, for the very first time, the new Queen Apparent of Onita: Mariah Salis.” After that, nothing. She must’ve moved, gone through the motions to lead her to where she now sat, but she remembered none of it. Her mind was swarmed by the sound of buzzing bees, all threatening to burst out of her and drown out the room in a tidal wave of confusion and fear and anger.
So much anger.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Slowly, she became aware of the weight of eyes on her. She turned her head slightly and found the blonde-haired queen seated to her right, staring at her, a guarded expression on her ageless face. Around the rest of the room—which was a sort of office—lounged Queen Ryenne’s Armature, the warriors intimidating yet graceful as they, too, watched her closely. The high priestess, Ksee, was also there, hanging back against a far wall, her posture poised and practiced.
“Leave us.” The queen’s command was quiet yet full of authority. Mariah couldn’t help but sit up straighter.
Even that small movement sent a wave of nausea rolling through her gut.
Ryenne’s Armature rose at once, quietly filing out of the oak office doors without hesitation. Ksee lingered momentarily, her piercing gaze darting between Ryenne and Mariah. Ryenne leveled a pointed look at the priestess, a look that had Ksee pursing her lips slightly, casting a final, veiled look at Mariah, and stepping quietly from the room.
It only took a few heartbeats for the room to empty, leaving only Mariah, Ryenne, and a third figure: Kalen, Ryenne’s Consort. Curiosity pushed just barely through the haze of her anger and confusion, taking note of his light brown, slightly unkempt hair, his warm brown eyes flicking between his queen and Mariah, the gentle and reassuring smile touching his lips. She watched him place a hand on Ryenne’s shoulder, tilting her head just slightly as she watched the Queen and her Consort share a moment.
That sort of love … it was curious to her. She’d only seen the love her parents shared, but they had the lives of mortals, such fleeting existences compared to the two people who now stood before her.
Kalen and Ryenne had been together for over three centuries. That length of time, that sort of commitment, was unfathomable to Mariah. The thought of sharing so much life with anyone sent a shiver crawling up her spine, slimy disgust resting in her chest.
That sort of love could only be a weakness.
“I’ll be outside,” Kalen said, his soft voice tugging Mariah from her distaste and curiosity and back into her resting state of confused, panicked rage. Her pulse again began to race in her ears as she watched Ryenne nod once, her ocean-blue stare never leaving Mariah. With a soft smile directed at Mariah, a smile that she aptly ignored, Kalen walked out through the same office doors the rest had stepped through, clicking them closed behind him.
The two women sat in silence for several moments that felt like a lifetime. Mariah was swirling, spiraling, her racing heart only picking up speed the longer she held the queen’s stare. The walls of the room felt like they were beginning to close in, pushing and pushing until they were squeezing the air from her lungs and crushing the bones of her body and—
“So. Mariah Salis. Where are you from?”
The queen’s question was a jolt, a gentle slap that snapped Mariah back to reality. Her panic and rage suddenly withdrew to rest just below her skin, coiled in her veins, but for the moment contained.
“Andburgh.” She didn’t even know she was answering until the word left her lips. Her voice sounded strange in her ears, as if she were trapped underwater, clawing desperately for the surface.
Ryenne tensed slightly, and Mariah zeroed her attention on the movement. That curiosity twisted again, and she latched onto it like a lifeline; anything was better than these foreign, suffocating feelings holding her captive. “Andburgh,” the queen said. “Interesting. The Crossroad City.”
Mariah nodded, watching Ryenne warily and holding back her instinctive scoff that begged to be released. Andburgh was hardly a city; more like a useless, tired piece of dirt that happened to sit where two main roads collided.
Ryenne continued, “And your parents? What do they do?”
Mariah’s voice again came out icy and flat, but at least the questions looping through her brain about the queen, about what she was thinking, kept her grounded enough to push the words from her mouth. “My mother is one of the town healers. My father used to be a member of the Royal Infantry, but retired after the last war in the Everheim Mountains.”
Ryenne was still tense as she watched Mariah, her guarded expression holding her thoughts close. “So … you’re a commoner then, right? You’re not Royal?”
That question finally snapped something in Mariah, her intrigue with the queen breaking back down into her instinctive, coiled rage.
She was a cornered animal, after all. Forced into a situation she’d thought impossible, still refusing to believe it to be real. Still convinced she could fight her way out.
Just then, she felt something stir deep in her gut. A ball of silver, beginning to unknot and unwind through her veins. An orb of gold, unspooling and wrapping around her heart, her soul. She sat up straighter, and knew, somehow, that her eyes were blazing with more than just her fear and anger.
She gave herself no opportunity to think before she levied that glowing gaze at the queen. “Of course I’m not Royal. There are no Royals in Andburgh. And thank the gods for that.”
Just the thought of the group of near-nobility who held most of the wealth and nearly as much power in Onita had Mariah fighting back a snarl from her face. The Royals were families which, at some point, had a daughter who’d been Chosen as a Queen of Onita. Of the ten previous queens, Ryenne included, all but the first had come from one of the seven Royal families. Ryenne’s own family, House Shawth, was the most prevalent and powerful of the Royals: three queens were from House Shawth, and the family enjoyed considerable power from its seat in Khento, just north of Andburgh. The power of Royal blood was so revered in Onita that most believed it simply impossible for a queen to be Chosen outside of those who held the power.
Mariah nearly gagged on the thought. She’d known her escape was too easy. Of course, she should’ve known she would end up being a walking, breathing impossibility.
Her statement continued to echo through the office, and a look of shock—or maybe fear?—passed over Ryenne’s features. It vanished, though, and the mask of the most powerful woman in the kingdom once again took its place. Ryenne glanced quickly around her, scanning the office once before her eyes darted to the door. A light knock rapped against the heavy wood, and Mariah couldn’t suppress her flinch of surprise, the new feeling cooling the rage in her blood, just enough to inhale a shaky, whispery breath.
Ryenne glanced back at Mariah. “It’s just Kalen. The room is secure,” she said. Mariah furrowed her brow at the Queen.
Secure … from what?
A smile ghosted across the queen’s full lips, as if she read the words Mariah left unspoken.
“We have quite a bit to discuss, you and I.”
“To begin,” Ryenne said, “what do you know about an Onitan Queen’s Armature?”
Mariah cocked her head warily. “Only what we’re all taught in schooling: that they are warriors bonded to the queen.”
Just as she said those words, she felt a new feeling wash over her, melding with and chilling her anger, just a bit more. Something stronger than curiosity.
She was suddenly intrigued by the queen’s intent to discuss the Armature. With everything that happened in the past few minutes, of all the upheaval that caused her world to spin, she hadn’t had a chance to think about everything this new situation could entail.
Ryenne nodded. “Yes, that is the basic premise of it. They receive a piece of their queen’s magic, an act which creates a permanent bridge between their souls. He is then granted the same near-immortal life of his queen, as well as the benefits of a mental connection to her. I can speak to them, in a way, mind to mind; not with words, but with emotions, with feelings.”
Ah. So that explained the soft knock on the door. The assurance Ryenne was able to give that it was only Kalen. More fascination prickled in Mariah’s mind, her anger receding back just an inch more.
“The bond of an Armature serves to strengthen a queen,” Ryenne continued. “Not until a Queen has bonded to all seven of her Armature may she ascend the throne and proceed with her coronation. Their strength becomes hers, and their unquestionable loyalty and protection guards her back better than any normal soldier ever could.”
Mariah could only stare at the queen as she spoke, her curiosity slipping and her anger rising once again. This … this wasn’t her life. This wasn’t what she wanted, what she’d risked everything for. She was meant to have walked back out of this palace today, to grab the sack of coin she’d left with her father at Beva’s inn and board a ship, to sail across the Mirrored Sea to the Kizar Islands. To whatever land lay beyond.
It was an impossibility that she’d been meant to be here. Sitting alone with the Queen of Onita, discussing bonds and Armatures and thrones and coronations.
“Mariah.”
The queen’s voice was sharp, as if she’d watched Mariah drift away and into herself, much the way Mariah’s mother often caught her doing. It cut through Mariah’s dark haze like a knife, yanking her back to Ryenne’s sharp stare of ocean blue. The Queen didn’t appear shocked by whatever she saw reflected back at her in Mariah’s own eyes, her expression instead softening with quiet understanding. Ryenne heaved a deep breath, even as Mariah remained tense, gripping the arms of her chair.
“I am sorry. I know this is likely unfathomable to you. I doubt it even feels real. I was raised from birth in anticipation of being Chosen as queen, and even still I remember the shock I felt at my Choosing like it was yesterday.” A shadow danced in her eyes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. Mariah didn’t respond, sitting frozen as the queen continued.
“But, Mariah, listen to me. This is real. Whether you want to believe it yet or not.” Ryenne’s voice sharpened, deepened, and goosebumps rose on Mariah’s skin. This was the 300-year-old ruler of an ancient and powerful kingdom. “I have only known you for a few minutes, but I know my Goddess. Therefore, I know you. Who you are, on the inside. You are strong. You will be exactly what this kingdom needs, or else you would not have been Chosen. And believe me, this kingdom needs a strong queen. One that Qhohena knows I could never be.”
Mariah blinked, those words again ripping through her silence. “What do you mean? Onita has been at peace for the entirety of your reign. 300 years is young for an Onitan queen. This never should have happened; not in my lifetime. So, why now? And, just … why me?” Mariah recoiled as her voice broke on that last word, fear raising its twisted head and, for once, wrestling control from her anger.
Ryenne’s gaze softened again, her expression turning almost sad, something that could’ve been regret shining behind her eyes. “Onita has been at peace and I have succeeded as its queen because of my family, not because of me or anything I have done. And trust me, I am smart enough to recognize that as the weakness it is.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Which brings me back to you. A commoner from the Crossroads. Not a Royal with a wealthy, powerful family behind you.”
Mariah’s gaze hardened. “Yeah, we discussed that already. And I’m not entirely sure why it matters.” Especially since I’m not supposed to be here.
Ryenne suddenly leaned forward, grabbed Mariah’s hands in her own, and pulled her close. “Mariah,” she began, her blue eyes urgent and insistent. “Listen to me. If you take nothing else from me, take this. Your ascension to the throne will not be easy. Much of what is in this kingdom is not as it seems. You must select and bond with your Armature—all of your Armature—as quickly as possible to protect yourself and Qhohena’s magic. I can do nothing to stop the politics of this kingdom from seeking its own agendas. You must rely upon those Qhohena gifts you with to protect yourself.”
Mariah blinked, her blood rushing cold at the urgency in the queen’s voice. “What … I’m confused. I don’t understand. I don’t want this. It can’t be—”
At that moment, a sharp rap sounded on the study doors. Ryenne released Mariah’s hands and sat back, the cool mask of the powerful queen slipping back into place over her features. Kalen reentered the room first, his eyes immediately glancing between his queen and Mariah. There was something shadowed glinting in their warm brown, a shadow so like what had passed through Ryenne’s eyes just a few moments earlier. Behind him, the High Priestess strode into the room, an imperious look on her face. Her tarnished gold gaze also darted between Mariah and Ryenne, but ultimately rested on Mariah with a look of bland, subtle interest.
“I apologize for the interruption, Your Majesty, but we must discuss the plan for our new … guest.” Mariah bristled at the pause in Ksee’s words, as if the priestess couldn’t settle on what to call her.
She might not want to be there, but after what had happened, she knew she was more than just some guest. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ryenne responded first.
“It’s quite alright, Ksee.” The queen’s voice sounded different as she spoke to the Priestess, her tone older, firmer. “Mariah and I were just finishing up. We needed a few moments alone, just queen to queen apparent.”
Ksee turned her attention back to Mariah, a sneering smile twisting her face. “It is indeed such a special day. The tenth queen apparent to our great kingdom, and soon to be the eleventh queen. Your family must be so proud.”
Something hidden in Ksee’s words made Mariah’s skin crawl, and her tongue again loosened before she could clamp down on her self-control. “Yes, my healer mother and soldier father will be so thrilled to learn of our new blessing.”
More like a curse.
Ksee went eerily still, her gaze boring into Mariah with such unequivocal intensity before shooting to Ryenne. “She is not Royal?” Ksee paused, taking in Ryenne’s stony expression. “You already knew.”
Ryenne looked at Mariah with thinly controlled frustration. “Yes, Mariah and I were just discussing her family when you came in. They hail from Andburgh, the Crossroad City.”
Ksee’s glittering, cold mask didn’t falter as she nodded, only once, those piercing eyes still watching Mariah. She looked ready to speak on the subject further, but ultimately decided to hold her tongue. Ignoring Ksee and her cold, curious response, Ryenne spoke again.
“And we were also discussing Mariah’s Armature selection. It is one of the most important steps a new queen apparent must take. The sooner we can arrange it, the better.” Pausing again, Ryenne turned her gaze from Mariah to Ksee. “As long as our training goes smoothly tomorrow, I would like to see if it can take place tomorrow evening. Can you ensure it is so?”
Ksee blanched slightly, but merely bowed her head. “That is a rather quick timeline, Your Majesty, but her Marked have trained years for this. I am sure we can have what we need ready in time.”
Ryenne nodded once. “See that it is.” Ksee bowed her head to the queen, then turned on her heel and slipped back out of the office, all but ignoring Mariah as she left. Once the priestess departed, the queen returned her attention to Mariah, the mask of the Queen slipped slightly as she beheld the dark-haired young woman. Mariah met her stare, unflinching, wondering what more could possibly be thrown at her today.
“There is one more thing, Mariah, that we must discuss.”
Unsurprised, Mariah sat still, waiting, trying to hide the heavy beat of her heart.
Unexpectedly, Ryenne’s face broke into a smile. “Every queen, and queen apparent, is permitted to appoint up to six Ladies to serve in her court. I would like to see you make that first appointment now, if possible. Is there anyone who you would like to be the first to join your new court?”
There was not a single moment of hesitation for Mariah. She’d only known the girl for a few hours, but there was no one else she wanted by her side.
If she would be stuck in an impossible situation, then at least she could bring the first female friend she’d ever had along with her.
