Page 180 of Daughter of No Worlds

He wasalive.

My eyes burned as I watched his face twitch, the corners of his mouth wavering between a smile and the grimace of tears. I could only chance little glances at him. Too many eyes were on me. And I didn’t trust myself to look at him for more than a fraction of a moment without letting my composure crack.

Still, I gave him one glance — one little glance — that reached across the crowd to whisper,I told you I would.

And he returned it with one that said,I knew you would.

He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Ahzeen’s other guards. I recognized many of them, and their recognition reflected back at me. They saw what the lords did not.

“…To the memory of my great father, Esmaris Mikov, whose legacy we gather to avenge…”

Reshaye stirred, inhaling the strength of my emotion.

My relief.

My love.

My fury.

This—they —were the reason why I was here.

“…And, above all…”

My eyes found Ahzeen again, and for a moment, through the flickering candlelight, I saw his father.

I saw the man who had raped me, who had whipped me, who had nearly killed me.

I saw the man who had sent my friends to their deaths. The man who had sanctioned the torture and rape of dozens of slaves.

I saw him, and I smiled.

Reshaye purred.

He smiled back, and I drank up his satisfaction from across the room as he thrust his glass higher into the air. “Above all, tovictory.”

I threw my head back and drank the wine, wiping the crimson that stained my red lips with the back of my hand. And I let the glass shatter onto the marble floor as I strode into the center of the room. The dancers -- my replacements — awkwardly stepped aside, casting uncomfortable glances to each other.

“Ahzeen Mikov.” I cocked my head and gave him my most enrapturing smile. “Have we met before?”

The musicians had gone silent. I felt the attention of the crowd like a physical force wrapping around me. I grabbed it and drew it closer.

Ahzeen’s eyebrows furrowed, an uncomfortable smile at his mouth. His bemused confusion tasted sour and sweet at once, pungent in the space between us. “I do not believe so, my lady.”

The room began to darken.

I smiled and pulled on the sash at my waist. The silk of the nightgown rippled like water as it slid over my body and pooled around my feet, revealing one of my old dancing costumes — one swath of fabric over my bust, a floating skirt low around my hips.

I stepped forward and planted my palms on the head table, leaning over Ahzeen. I was so close that I could smell the saccharine scent of his cologne and the oils that had been worked into his hair, which hung in a neat black ponytail over one shoulder.

“What about now? Do you remember me now?”

The wrinkle of confusion deepened. “I—“

1, 2, 3…

I sucked the light from the air, coating the room in a hazy mist as I stepped backwards with light, lilting leaps. I opened my palms to release a cacophony of sparks. Silver butterflies danced from my fingertips.

4, 5, 6…

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