Mariah returned her attention to the man. “My Armature tells me you are aiding in the organization and strike against my people. Is that true?”
The Kreah man regained his composure. His face shifted back into a sneer. “You must be the rats’ little cunt queen.” He shot his glare at Quentin. “I knew your pet would run back to you squealing.”
“I don’t have time for your weak-minded insults,” Mariah said, voice low and deadly soft. “Are you working against your goddess and High Counsellor to organize an attack on the Onitan refugees?”
The man held her glare but didn’t answer.
Instead, he drew a breath and spat into the sands at her feet.
Fury—hot and demanding—ignited in Sebastian’s chest. From the way palms tightened around weapons and the low growl that pulled from Drystan’s throat, he knew he wasn’t alone.
“Fuck your people,” the Kreah man said. “Fuck Rulene and the High Counsellor. Andfuckyour kingdom.”
The wind across the sands stilled like a held breath.
A deep, ground-trembling growl ripped into the air.
A serpentine indigo head appeared at Mariah’s side, maw lifted in a snarl and endless galaxy eyes ignited with fury.
“I suggest,” Mariah said softly, “not insulting your goddess in the presence of her Consort.”
Blood drained from the Kreah man’s face. Sebastian relaxed a fraction, though he still stood close, palm rested on the hilt of his sword.
“But I’m glad my court was able to find you.” Mariah rocked back on her heels. “And I’m glad you brought your views of me and my people to our attention.” Callamus growled again and Mariah moved, settling into a slow march around the man. His head swung as he tracked her, though he also kept one eye on the snarling dragon at his front.
“Your High Counsellor has pleaded for me to be merciful with you. To send you back to your little rebel group with a slap on the wrist and a warning to stay away from the Onitans.” She paused on the man’s right.
Sebastian’s blood went cold as the light in her eyes flickered. Darkness rose into her expression, turning the tilt of her smile cruel.
He’d seen that darkness in her twice before. First on the day of her presentment parade, when she’d murdered the assassin who’d killed one of Ryenne’s Armature and wounded Trefor. And second when she’d tortured the Marked Guard Ryland upon his betrayal, one that had ultimately led to the capture of her parents.
Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to say that either of these people—or this man, for that matter—didn’t deserve the dark vengeance Mariah doled out.
That didn’t mean he liked the way she seemed to revel in it, either.
“But I don’t believe in offering second chances to those who’ve hurt people close to me.” Sunlight glinted on steel as Mariah drew her dagger from her thigh.
“Mariah.” Sebastian couldn’t stop himself. The murmur slipped past his teeth, filled with warning.
This would be too far. This man, though he’d wronged her, wasn’t hers. If Amasis requested mercy, shouldn’t Mariah give it instead of making him a martyr?
Her dark glare met his, and his heart sank.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head, but said nothing further.
“W-wait,” the man protested, seeing her blade. “I can help you. I can keep the rebels from attacking. I’ve heard your warning. We won’t act. I swear to it.”
Mariah sighed at his pleas. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I know too well how little men care about oaths. Empty promises won’t be enough for me now.” She continued her circling walk, stopping at the man’s back.
Bending to speak in his ear, she murmured, “But perhaps your body will.”
Her dagger flashed. Scourged steel glinted as it was dragged across the man’s throat. His desperate gurgles filled the courtyard. His body hit the sands with a dry thump. He twitched, burgundy blooming around him and staining the ground, until he fell still.
That chill in Sebastian’s bones didn’t lessen as Mariah wiped her dagger on her leathers before sliding it into its holster. She glanced over her shoulder at Drystan and Trefor.
“Take him back into the city, like we discussed earlier. Make it public. Let the rebels know that this is the fate that awaits them if they dare to touch my people again.”
The men nodded, faces grim. “Travel safe, my Queen,” Drystan said.
