Page 108 of Song of the Heart Scale
I gave him a cold smile. “I think you should start with me. Might save you the trouble.”
He frowned. “And what makes you think you're worth more than a trembling maid?”
I tilted my head. “Ask your emperor. He seems to think I’m special.”
Confusion. Then suspicion.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I leaned closer to the bars and dropped my voice to a purr. “I’m betrothed to Emperor Thorne.”
That got their attention.
The second guard blinked. “Wait... Lady Arya?”
I slowly nodded, letting the smirk curve across my lips. “In the flesh.”
They looked at each other.
“Why the hell isshein here?”
“You think I know? Orders were to arrest anyone from the riot. No names.”
The first guard cursed and stepped back. “By the Immortals. We need to tell someone. If she dies down here—”
“Exactly,” I said sweetly. “So unless your boss wants his future Empress's corpse on the front page of the morning scrolls, I suggest you unchain me and my maid and get us out of this pit.”
For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes. My face—identical to Lady Arya's in every way—gave him pause.
“She does look like her,” the second guard muttered.
The first guard gripped my jaw. “A passing resemblance. Nothing more.” He shoved me back. “The Empress-to-be has a birthmark on her left wrist. Show me your arms.”
My heart sank. I knew nothing about a birthmark. TherealArya—wherever she was in my world—had details about her body I couldn't possibly know, and Maeve had never mentioned anything about a birthmark.
“The birthmark is small,” I lied desperately. “Under my sleeve—”
“Enough!” The guard yanked at my sleeve, revealing the beginning of my tattooed skin—the intricate designs I'd collected over years back home. Designs no noble lady in this world would dare to mark herself with.
The guard's eyes widened. “Markings?” He roughly grabbed my arm and pushed the sleeve further up. “Lady Arya would never defile her skin with commoner's ink!”
“You don't understand—” I started, but the second guard cut me off.
“She's an imposter!” he hissed. “Trying to use Lady Arya's name to escape punishment.”
The first guard's face darkened with rage. “That's treason on top of sedition.” He yanked me forward. “The interrogator will enjoy this one.”
“No!” Maeve lunged forward and grabbed his arm. “Please, she's not—”
The guard backhanded her so hard she crashed against the wall. Her head hit stone with a sickening crack and she slumped to the floor.
“Maeve!” I screamed, struggling against the guard's grip as he dragged me out of the cell. I caught a glimpse of her slumped form, blood trickling from her temple. “You bastard! If she dies—”
“Save your breath,” the guard growled, twisting my arm behind my back. “You'll need it.”
“If she dies, I swear to god—” My threat was cut short by a brutal punch to my stomach. I doubled over, gasping.
“You'll what?” the guard sneered. “Pretend to be someone important again?”
