Page 40 of Song of the Dragon Rider
She furrowed her brows. “Is that so?”
I nodded. “You’re different, too. The once docile, delicate Gianna who would give out porridge to the poor in the Southern District is now… how should I put it… well, she has an icier exterior. Her words are sharp, and she no longer helps those in need anymore.”
Gianna chuckled and turned around to fully face me. It was the first time I’d seen her so… Cruella Deville. It was strange how quickly a person could change, and the reasons that compelled them.
“He’s not worth it, Gianna.” I leaned forward, covering my breasts with the washcloth.
Her frown deepened. “Who?”
“Damien,” I answered. “Don’t change who you are for a man.”
She scoffed. “Didn’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hell, no. Are you crazy? Not in a million years.”
“Lies,” she growled. “You stole him from me! That was your plan all along! You always take what’s mine!”
“Jesus Christ,” I murmured. “You can have him, Gianna. I don’twantDamien, but he won’t leave me alone.” It was only half a truth. Did I truly want her to have him? That was a question I wasn’t sure I had the answer to. “But you’re going to believe what you want to believe, so I won’t waste my breath arguing with you. Just know that this fight between you and me is totally one sided because I’m not fighting you. You’re on your own, homegirl.”
She snorted and speared me with a hateful glare. “That’s whatyouthink, Arya. This isn’t over. I’m no longer the same sweet Gianna, and I’m not going to roll over and take it anymore. You better watch your back.” With those parting words, she spun on her heels and stomped out of the room.
I sighed because I knew damn well that no matter what I said, she wouldn’t change her mind about me. She was a girl on a mission, and that mission was to destroy me, the sister who’d made her life a living hell. I wasn’t sure before, but looking into her eyes now, I could finally confirm it. Damien choosing me over her was the final straw. We were at war.
By the timeI emerged from the bath, my skin was wrinkled and my mind was much clearer. I was ready to face whatever the evening held. Maeve returned, breathless and with news that the message had been successfully delivered to Royal Prince Bai's mansion.
“He said he would ensure it reaches Prince Damien immediately, my lady,” Maeve informed me as she helped me dress.
The gown for the evening was a deep emerald green, simple in cut but elegant in its minimalism, complete with long sleeves to cover my tattoos. As Maeve laced up the back with nimble, quick fingers, I watched our reflections in the mirror. The dress made me look every bit the part of a noblewoman, though the tightness around my chest reminded me of the constraints of this role.
“Does it feel alright, my lady?” Maeve asked, noting my slight grimace.
“It's perfect,” I assured her, forcing a smile. “A little snug, but I'll manage.”
Once dressed, I sat at the vanity as Maeve styled my hair into an elaborate updo, weaving strands together with practiced ease. Every pin and tuck were a reminder of the mask I had to wear tonight, each curl a coil in the armor I built around myself.
“Are Jacob and my father waiting?” I asked casually.
Maeve shook her head. “Lord Zachariah is unwell tonight. It will just be you and Young Master Jacob.”
I frowned. Zachariah was fine as of this morning. What happened?
As the final touches were put into place, Maeve stepped back to admire her work. I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves for the night ahead. This banquet was a stage on which I had to perform a part written for someone else, hoping against hope that I could keep the audience entertained and deceived just a little longer.
With a delicate sweep of rose-colored blush and a subtle line of kohl around my eyes, Maeve transformed my face into a visage of composed nobility. She stepped back, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as she surveyed her work. “You're ready, my lady.”
“Thanks, Maeve.” I stood and smoothed down the fabric of my dress. I followed her out of my room, the soft rustle of my gown trailing behind me like a whispered secret. Evening was just settling in, painting the sky in shades of twilight as I strode outside.
Jacob was already waiting by the carriage, which was parked in front of the gate. He was smartly dressed in his military uniform, the medals and insignia catching the fading light and making him look particularly distinguished. When he saw me approach, his posture straightened and a look of mild surprise crossed his features.
“You look... different,” he remarked as he offered his arm to escort me to the carriage. There was an edge of formality in his tone, a reminder of the roles we were expected to play tonight.
“Different good or different bad?” I quipped, taking his arm and allowing him to lead me towards the open carriage door.
“Different impressive,” he corrected with a small smile as he helped me into the plush carriage upholstered in deep red velvet, which contrasted sharply with my green gown.
I settled against the soft cushions as Jacob climbed in after me and closed the door with a soft click. I leaned through the open window. “We’ll be back late, Maeve. You don’t have to wait up.”
“Yes, my lady. Have a good time and, uh… be careful,” she murmured the last part.
