I turn to her to rip my arm out of her grasp. “Leave me alone, Lyra.”
“What is the matter with you?” A mix of frustration, fear, and confusion is on her face. She needs to be better at masking those.
I turn to walk again. All while plucking the note tucked in the top of my dress. She grabs my upper arm this time, her fingers digging into my skin. Blue eyes searching my face, and I so wish she could read my mind with how hard she stares at me.
“What have I done to deserve such cold treatment from you?”
Lifting my chin, I mutter, “I’m only as cold as I’ve always been.” I slap my hand over hers, the coin-sized note now sandwiched between our hands. Shoving my thumb down beneath my palm, I slide it out from underneath my hand into the space between her thumb and forefinger.
Her eyes widen. She tightens her grip over the note, and I grab her wrist, throwing it away from me. As she clenches her fist tight, I have to fight myself from grinning.
She got the note.
Everyone else behind her has stopped dancing, their attention hooked on us.
I prowl closer, staring down my nose at her. “Cold as the Briarstones you’re so well aware of. Let it be known that I don’t stray from my family tendencies. And if you speak to me once more—if you even look at me again—I’ll show you just how Briarstones handle their adversaries.” I place my fingertips at her chest and shove her away from me. Hard enough, she fumbles back a few steps. But she pulls her tightened fist with the note up to her chest, eyes narrowing in on me as she subtly slips it into the top of her gown.
Good, Lyra.
She lowers her hand slowly to her side. “You’re right. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. But it turns out you’re a just a stone-cold bitch. I suppose your last name fits for the woman you are.”
My face falls slightly.Too far, Lyra.I don’t think I’ve ever heard her curse before. Not sure if I should be laughing at how unnatural it sounds on her tongue, or be impressed she knew it. Judging by the rounded eyes around the room, and the way Lady Bethany grins, I know we’ve won.
Or, at least for now.
I take one step toward Lyra, looming over her with the earned stature I have. Glaring at her, I whisper loud enough for Cyrus to hear as he strides near us with Devin in tow, “I should’ve let you die in that last trial?—”
“And I should’ve let you die during the first!” she spits back.
I move forward like I’m going to do something I’d regret if it wasn’t all for show. Cyrus captures my arm before I swing, pulling me away as Devin swoops in to cut off my vision of Lyra, his back to me.
“Walk,” Cyrus warns in a low tone.
A tone I’m not sure I ever recall hearing from him. One that sends my heart down to my toes as he rushes me back to the reflection room, pulls us in, and slams the door shut.
His hand braces against the wood, eyes serious when he regards me for a few breaths before he asks, “Do you mind telling me what in the realms all of that was about?”
The way he’s looking at me carves back my usual indignation. I’m not sure if I should be concerned or terrified at the way his eyes are narrowed, leaving no room for any other emotion but anger.
Blinking through my wasted thoughts, I shake my head, “I don’t think you’d understand?—”
“Understand?” he repeats slower, louder. Leaning toward me and letting his hand slip off the door, he flicks it back out to gesture to the room beyond. “Marcella, one of the rules in this entire competition is to not fight with the other women.”
I hold my ground, crossing my arms over my chest. “You don’t need to remind me of the rules, Cyrus. I’m well aware. Perhaps even more so than you.”
“What is that even supposed to mean? You break any of them, and I have no choice but to disqualify you, to send you home! I can’t keep making exceptions for you! Is that what you want, to be dismissed?”
“Of course not!” I jerk back.
“Then why is it you were two seconds away from taking Lyra to the ground? Your experience and skills wouldn’t just hurt her, you’ddestroyher. She wouldn’t have even had a fighting chance against you had you lost your temper.”
“And yet I’ve heard she had no consequences for her quarrel with Willow the other night? Who so happened to disappear that same evening?” I nearly spit.
“She’s different,” Cyrus mutters. “She doesn’t even have a tenth of the skills in combat you have. Nobody was concerned for Willow’s well-being.”
“So?” I bark. “You don’t find it the least bit suspicious that they had a disagreement and suddenly she went missing? Do you even know what happened to Willow?”
He falls quiet, eyes flicking away from me.
