Page 12 of Song of the Heart Scale
The soft rustle of Maeve’s skirts was the only sound accompanying my restless footsteps through the quiet corridor. My mind was a tempestuous whirlwind as anger and suspicion tangled in a knot of keen anxiety. Maeve kept pace beside me, occasionally glancing over, her expression wary but supportive.
We turned a corner and nearly collided with a tall, statuesque figure standing directly in our path. My heart dropped at the familiar sight of flawless dark brown curls cascading down a slender back and a sharply beautiful face with a gaze colder than ice.
“Gianna,” I said evenly, forcing my tone into a veneer of politeness, though my stomach twisted unpleasantly.
“Arya,” she responded smoothly, her voice dripping with subtle venom. Her matching golden brown eyes flicked over me, lingering critically. “Looking well, I see. Much improved from your little...incident.”
My jaw tightened instinctively. “Thanks for noticing. You know me, always bouncing back from your peculiar brand of hospitality.”
Her lips curled upward in a sinister smirk and her eyes narrowed. “You misunderstand, dear sister. I had nothing to do with your public punishment. That was entirely Father's decision.”
This was a Gianna I didn’t recognize. Long lost was the meek, vulnerable girl who once caved to everything her little sister did. Now, before me stood a woman ready to go into battle.
I scoffed and crossed my arms defensively. “Oh, I'm sure it was. And yet somehow, I can't help but recall the way you stood watching off to the side with that infuriating smirk plastered across your pretty little face. You looked rather satisfied, almost as if you'd orchestrated it yourself.”
Gianna’s smile widened, her expression dangerously amused. “Oh, Arya, paranoia doesn't become you.”
Yeah, she definitely wasn’t the same creature. What had changed? I was missing something.
Maeve shifted uncomfortably beside me, clearly sensing the tension crackling between us. She moved closer, subtly supportive. I defiantly lifted my chin, unwilling to back down from Gianna's obvious attempts to rattle me.
“Is there something specific you wanted, Gianna, or are you just here to annoy me?”
She laughed and her dismissive gaze slid to Maeve for a beat before returning to mine. “Actually, I wanted to congratulate you. Thorne is quite the catch. Father must besopleased. Although I’m sure Damien is upset.”
I rolled my eyes and ignored her last comment. “Father's pleasure seems easily won these days,” I replied sharply, eyeing her carefully for any reaction. “Especially considering he's willing to barter his own flesh and blood to cover his mistakes.”
Gianna’s eyes briefly flashed, betraying a flicker of surprise before it vanished behind her mask of cool indifference. “Careful, Arya,” she said softly, stepping closer until our faces were inches apart. Her voice dropped to a whisper, laced with a dangerous edge. “You wouldn't want to speak out of turn and get yourself hurt again.”
Was that a threat? What the hell was going on? I had to think. What was I missing?
My mind raced with flashes of my past interactions with Gianna flooding back—particularly the unsettling memory of her catching me unaware in the bath. My breath hitched as I remembered the way her eyes widened upon seeing my ink-covered arm. A tattoo sleeve that therealArya most certainly did not possess.
Bingo.
“Tell me something,” I said quietly, my eyes locked firmly with hers. “When did Father realize I'm not his precious Arya? Was it before or after you ran to him with your little discovery?”
Gianna blinked, momentarily thrown off-balance. Then her expression hardened and she quickly glanced down the hall, ensuring we were alone. “You always were sharper than you seemed,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “But don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that important.”
“Apparently, I'm important enough for him to use as collateral damage,” I retorted bitterly, refusing to break eye contact. “I suppose that explains why he's suddenly indifferent about tossing me into Thorne's lap.”
She abruptly straightened and regained her icy composure. “Whatever you think you know, Arya—or whoever you truly are—it doesn't matter. You serve a purpose now. Be thankful you're useful.”
“Useful?” I snapped incredulously, anger flaring anew. “I’ll show you useful when I—”
Maeve quickly touched my elbow, subtly reminding me we weren't entirely private. “My lady,” she murmured, concern etched across her face. “Perhaps we should continue on our way.”
Gianna chuckled, a sound rich with malice. “Yes,Arya, listen to your little pet. Walk away while you still can.”
My fingers curled into fists and my pulse thundered in my ears as I fought the urge to physically retaliate. I wanted to deck that bitch in the face, but Maeve’s gentle presence grounded me just enough to maintain control. I inhaled deeply and met Gianna’s simmering gaze one last time.
“Watch yourself, Gianna,” I said clearly, my voice low and dangerous. “You might think you hold all the cards, but the game isn't over yet.”
Her smile faltered and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She stepped back and offered a mockingly elaborate curtsy. “Enjoy your remaining time here,sister. I have a feeling it won't be much longer. But don’t worry, I’ll keep Damien company.”
She swept away down the hall without another glance, leaving me fuming in her wake.
Maeve gently touched my arm and guided me forward with quiet urgency. “My lady, perhaps we should be more cautious,” she whispered, clearly shaken by the encounter.
