Page 182 of Daughter of No Worlds

“A mereslave whorecould not have killed Esmaris Mikov,” he snarled.

“A slave whore did indeed.”

I scanned the room, watching the other Lords and ladies whisper furiously to each other. Odd that I didn’t taste their reaction in the air— but I could see it, the scale of their surprise and their judgement.

Ahzeen Mikov, I knew, did not want to remember me, even if he could.

Vos had already told me that Ahzeen had all of the information he needed to at least suspect that I was responsible. But it did not help Ahzeen politically to punish some faceless, nameless slave. No — Ahzeen needed power. He needed respect. And in the world of the Threllian Lords, respect was earned through honor and dominance.

“Liar,” Ahzeen hissed.

“Which one of us is the liar?” I stopped at his table, blinking sweetly up at him. “How many wars did you use your father’s death to justify? How many Lords did you kill in his name?”

If I had not been so transfixed on the delicious rage on Ahzeen’s face, I might have noticed that the room was beginning to brighten again.

I might have noticed that, beneath the pounding of my headache, Reshaye had gone silent.

I might have noticed that I couldn’t hear or feel the rippling emotions of the party guests.

Instead, I watched Ahzeen’s lips curl into a sneer.

“Fragmented cunt,” he spat, sending flecks of spittle across my face as he bore down on me. “I knew the Orders were threatened by me. But I thought more highly of them than to send some wench to topple the most powerful family in Threll.”

Andthen,as that sneer split into a terrible, cold smile, I noticed.

I saw his hand raise, and in the split second before he brought it down, I tried to shoot a gust of air at him to push him back.

I tried, and nothing happened.

His hand collided with my face with such force that I went careening to the ground. But I didn’t think about the pain. I only thought about one terrible realization as my blurred vision settled on the broken remains of my empty wine glass:

The world had gone dull, like half of my senses had been cut off.

I had no magic.

Chapter Seventy

Tisaanah

“When I heard that a group of Order Wielders would be coming here, well, of course I had to take my precautions, considering that the Orders had been quite uncooperative in offering their assistance.”

I let out one steady, long breath as I pushed myself up from the ground. Ahzeen paced circles around me. His voice was too loud, too confident. He was showboating.

“Butthis. This is more than I expected. A spy and a seductress come to turn my allies against me. Or, my stolen property returned to me.Get up.”

His fingernails bit into my skin as he yanked me to my feet. I was so dizzy I could hardly steady myself, but I straightened my back through sheer force of will.

For the second time in my life, I saw my plans topple before me.

What was I going to do?

My eyes found the slaves gathered at the edge of the room, looking on in veiled horror. The expression on Serel’s face cut a dagger through my guts. I couldn’t bring myself to meet their gazes. Instead, I looked only to Ahzeen, meeting that one dark, hateful eye with equal intensity.

He smiled at me, an ugly, joyless movement. “I do remember you now. You and your beautiful dances. Why don’t you perform for us, whore?”

Whore. I hated him. Hated that word. Hated the anonymity of it all. “My name is Tisaanah.”

“Your name is whatever I want it to be.”

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