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Threadbare Crown

fantasy◐ Teen
5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep

Instead of speaking, Mira grabbed a corner of the tapestry and yanked. The silver threads were loose, badly tied, nothing like true Loom-work. The whole woven face unraveled in her hands. The two guards stared. This was no sacred cloth. It was a clumsy forgery, and now they could see it too.

As the fake cloth fell apart in Mira's hands, the real Great Loom in the corner shuddered and began to weave by itself. A true face formed in silver, and the two guards held their breath. It was Mira's face after all, complete with the Loom's secret crooked stitch. The forgery had only ever copied a truth someone feared. Mira had earned the throne by tearing down the lie meant to hand it to her.

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