CHINESE ARYA STARK meets THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA.
*A Wattpad Featured story*
When everyone wears a mask, who do you trust?
In the unforgiving empire of Erden where the Imperials reign supreme, Sarna is a slave. After escaping the brothel where a m...
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"Natural phenomenons occur all the time. Be it a red moon or a strangely shaped cloud. It's humans who warp them to fit their beliefs and claim it to be the work of their Gods."
The Book of Controversies—Unknown Zmerkï author
CHAPTER TWENTY
That night, Biyu's bruised and hollowed face haunted me.
You've betrayed all of us, Biyu hissed. You've abandoned your own and joined the Imperials. After all they've done to you, I thought you despised them. I was wrong. Shame on you.
You have to understand, I tried to reason with him. I'm doing this to save us.
Liar. Blood pooled in his eyes and dripped, drawing two vertical red lines down his cheeks. Liar. Liar. Liar.
Biyu's face faded and was replaced by those I'd skinned.
Faces I had forgotten; Faces belonging to people whose names I'd never found out.
Facechanger, they whispered. Facechanger.
Leave me alone! I shouted.
Facechanger, the faces continued whispering. You have consumed the blood of a High Immortal. You're cursed. You're cursed. Oh my, you're cursed!
I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the disembodied voices.
Twice you shall be betrayed, twice your heart shall be broken. Oh, Facechanger, you've brought this upon yourself! You're neither mortal nor immortal, trapped between two worlds. You're cursed, you're cursed, you're cursed!
The chorus of the faces rose into a thundering crescendo.
Sarna, Qara's face said. Give us back our faces. They're not yours.
I gritted my teeth.
The faces are not yours. They're ours, our faces.
Ours. Ours. Ours.
When the sun broke the horizon and filled the sky with its warm golden rays, I got out of bed and threw icy water over my puffy face.
My innards shivered like an animal trapped in a blizzard. I shakily did my makeup. Miya had already chosen an outfit for me and left it hanging in the wardrobe. It was a gorgeous white dress with pearls as large as cherries sewn onto the bodice. But every part of me was repulsed. I was about to witness a public execution dressed like I was attending a banquet.
I still hadn't come up with a plan to rescue Biyu. There was no trying to Whisper the executioner into letting Biyu go. Even if I succeeded, he would be replaced with another, and another.
