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Comfort could be bought, but peace was priceless.
“I’m Ciana. We’re going to be friends—sorry, you don’t get a say in that. Either accept it or … well, accept it.”
i would die for Ciana
“Do you want to try to walk up those gods-awful stairs with me and make fun of all the other bitches here who think they look good?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Mariah,” she said, “I found a waffle-maker in this kitchen.” Mariah giggled, just once. “By the Goddess, I fucking love waffles.”
“It just doesn’t seem very … queen-like, does it?” Ciana’s face was suddenly serious as she held Mariah’s gaze in the mirror. “Oh, quite the opposite, Mariah. I think this is exactly the dress needed to bring every man in the kingdom to his knees.”
“Weak, Andrian. You are weak.” And then she was speaking again. “What’s your name? Don’t answer her. “Andrian, My Queen.” FUCK.
He wanted nothing more to do with her, but by the Goddess there was something about those emerald eyes that made him want to rise to her challenge, to meet her head-on, to break her and make her his. Wait … what?
wait what indeed
“Ugh! Alright, fine, bitch. Play coy with me. I will, however, expect a full debriefing with all the details that would make our ancestors roll over in their graves later this evening.”
This was not a matter of pride. This was a matter of taking back power from men who never deserved to wield it.
“You will be my undoing, nio. Whenever you think it was you who lost control, remember—it was me who lost control first.”
“Good girl.”
🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨
“Dance with me.” It wasn’t a question.
The three women stood there for a moment, letting themselves process and feel and just be, as friends, as sisters who’d chosen and found each other.
i’m not crying u are
