Page 34 of Song of the Heart Scale
“Go ahead, Gianna,” I threatened. “Tell our brother what you just said.”
She grimaced and sweat beads slid down her face.
I smirked as I cupped my ear and scrunched my nose. “What was that? I can’t hear you.”
“Arya, enough!” Jacob shouted. His gaze never left Gianna’s frightened face. She looked ready to piss herself.
I rolled my eyes. “You sure didn’t intervene when she was swinging a riding crop at me like a wild woman,” I muttered and stepped away toward Maeve.
“My lady,” Maeve murmured as she took ahold of my wrist and patted my hand reassuringly.
“Gianna, please calm down,” Jacob soothed. “We should all work hard to get along. We cannot be a house divided, especially during such turbulent times.”
Gianna glared at me but nodded at Jacob, suddenly docile. I knew damn well she didn’t agree, but I wasn’t going to call her out on it.
“We should all return to the house,” Jacob said, stepping between us like a buffer. “Father will be expecting us for the midday meal, and with the news of the emperor...” He trailed off, glancing nervously between Gianna and me.
“Fine,” I said, straightening my sleeves. “Just keep her away from the butter knives.”
Gianna's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “This isn't over,Arya.”
“It never is with you,” I muttered.
As we left the stables, I noticed Maeve lingering behind, her gaze fixed on Jacob's retreating form. I slowed my pace to walk beside her.
“You should tell him,” I whispered.
Maeve's head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with horror. “My lady! I would never—it wouldn't be proper—he's Lady Arya’s brother and I'm just a—”
“A what? A handmaiden?” I rolled my eyes. “Jacob doesn't care about that stuff. He doesn’t seem like the type.”
Her cheeks flushed deeper. “It's not just that, my lady. Even if I were to... to speak my mind, there's Lady Elise to consider.”
I stopped abruptly. “Who the hell is Lady Elise?”
Maeve blinked at me in surprise. “Lord Mercer's daughter? The one your father has been corresponding with regarding a potential match for Young Master Jacob since his return?”
“Of course,” I muttered. Another arranged marriage. The Ryder family specialty.
As we approached the main house, I noticed a sleek black carriage pulling up to the entrance with the imperial crest emblazoned on its door. My stomach dropped. Only one person would dare flaunt imperial insignia on the day the emperor's death was announced. The royal guard flanked the carriage, their crimson cloaks standing out starkly against the cloying morning mist.
The door swung open and Crown Prince Thorne emerged, his tall frame unfolding gracefully from the carriage. His dark hair was pulled back in a severe style, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face. Unlike his usual ornate court attire, he wore a simple black tunic with silver threading—mourning clothes, but still unmistakably royal.
“Shit,” I breathed, instinctively taking a step back.
Maeve gasped beside me. “Is that—?”
“The Crown Prince,” Jacob confirmed, his voice tight with barely-held tension. “What is he doing here?”
Gianna's entire demeanor instantly transformed. The fury that had contorted her features moments ago melted away, replaced by a practiced mask of demure elegance. She smoothed her skirts, hastily fixed her hair, and straightened her shoulders. “Crown Prince Thorne,” she breathed, her voice honey-sweet.
I watched her transformation with disgust. Just moments ago she was screaming about Damien being “hers”, and now she was preening for the Crown Prince? Unbelievable.
I watched, frozen in place, as Prince Thorne's calculating gaze swept across the grounds and landed directly on me. His eyes—cold and blue as the ocean in winter— slightly narrowed. Without breaking his stare, he murmured something to the royal guard beside him, then began walking purposefully in our direction.
“He's coming this way,” Maeve squeaked, gripping my arm so tightly I winced.
“Lady Arya Ryder!” Thorne called out, his deep voice effortlessly carrying across the distance between us. “Just the person I wished to see.”
