Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Nine - Play with Fire

You can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you                                                                           - You Should Be Sad by Halsey

Iris

"I don't suppose you plan to burn him alive."  I watch my husband play with his bracelet, blue-white flames flickering across his palm.  "Amusing as it would be."

The air grows cold.  "Do you know what happens to a Burner in silent stone?"

"No."  I gather water near his flame, letting it hiss and crackle.  "Are you volunteering yourself as a test subject?"

He cackles.  "Wife, you have such marvelous fantasies."

"Not the first time you've disappointed.  I'm sure Mare Barrow can attest to that."

His fire extinguishes with a hiss, temperature plunging.  Frost crusts at the windows, and my silk gown is little protection from the chill.  His hands shake with years of repressed rage.

He'd like to incinerate me.

"Calm down."  Sweat pools at my temple.  "It's a joke."

"It's not funny."  Frost retreats from the glass, and my dress feels appropriate again.  Still, his breathing is rapid and uneven.  "I have limits.  Push them at your peril."

As if he could best me.

"You're the one who plays with fire."  I roll my eyes.  "Very well."

Maven chuckles.  "I did consider it.  It was quite tempting to see my brother bested by my flame.  But it struck me as unfair."  He taps the table.  "Did you know Cal is afraid of water?"

I do not like where this is going.

"My perfect brother could be bested by a ten year old in a swimming match.  I was planning to employ an Osanos, but I recognize my rudeness now."  His eyes gleam.  "Would you like the privilege?"

Tiberias Calore was an honest man.  But honest men do not rule the world.

"If you insist."

_

"Drowning."  Mare paces back and forth, one tense second away from tearing the floorboards from their foundation.  "Sadistic bastard."

"Knowing him, he'll butcher it somehow."  Small comforts are all I can give her.  "The cameras will malfunction.  Tiberias will make a grand speech that transforms him into a martyr.  He'll choke an Osanos or two before he dies."  I sigh.  "For a sociopath, that man is remarkably incompetent."

"How many?"

I look up, startled.  Mare clutches the window as if her sorrow could shatter diamondglass.  "How many Osanos?"

"I don't know."  I can't tell her.  I can't sit here as she demands the impossible, wastes her waning strength on a mistake I can't afford to make.  "My husband did not trust me with the details."

After seven months of silence and isolation, there shouldn't be anything left in her to break.  But break she does, spilling onto the floor and laying there.  My abilities locate her tears despite me, and I resist the urge to dry them.

"I can't say goodbye."  She sniffles.  "The last thing he hears of me will be that I fucked his brother.  He must hate me."

I should resent her.  This woman has ensnared my husband, wreaked havoc on my court, and allied herself with an organization clamoring for my death.  I should not hesitate to strike the final blow.

But I can't.

"He doesn't."  I sink next to her, smoothing her hair.  However dull it grows, it's still there, more striking than any glossy mane.  "Any man worth your energy will care more for your safety than his ego.  Your coping mechanisms are your business.  Anyone shames you, tell me.  I shall slaughter them myself."

Her Arven guards tense in my periphery.  They owe allegiance to Maven, not me.  I am a prisoner as much as she is.

We both need teeth to bite.

Mare lifts her head.  "Please don't.  I don't want any more blood on my hands."

"Blood is a fact of life.  But very well."  I take her hand.  "I met him, and he wasn't angry.  His first question was whether or not you'd been forced."  I squeeze it.  "You weren't, right? If he did, I'll make him stop."  My eyes blaze.  "I'll find a way."

"I initiated every time."  Her breath hitches.  "We're lonely."

So am I.

"I asked Tiora to send you a painting."  I hand her a tissue, letting my arm rest at the curve of her waist.  "She agreed the past three letters, but the previous two were buried under apologies for forgetting, so it might take a year or two."

Mare laughs.

I can't stay long, not when there are broadcasts to screen, nobles to placate, and wars to win.  Still, her face lingers in my mind, all sharp features and determination, a sculpture of an old goddess who knows her time will come.  And for the first time, I wish Maven were not so selfish in hoarding his toys.

It's been ages since I've had a playmate so intriguing.

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