Maven
Mother is not amused.
"I warned you this would happen." She drags me into her chambers by the ear, storming past befuddled sentinels and snickering nobles. "You've let a snake into your bed."
My cheeks burn. To look powerful is to be powerful. How angry must she be to forget?
"Snakes can be charmed." I ruffle my hair. "She may be a nuisance now, but a few sweet words, and she'll soften her resistance. I fooled her once. I can fool her again."
"Or she could fool you." Mother sharpens. "You're smitten enough as it is."
Our dance flickers in my mind, my hand at her waist as I led her around the ballroom. It was a practical move, one that prevented Sonya from coaxing a confession of her. "We can't execute her. All of court saw her display."
"Yes." She scowls, gesturing to a nearby screen. "And they weren't the only ones."
The image is hazy with smoke, clarifying to buildings and crowds massing between them. A gunshot rings out, and they disperse, only for a man to urge them to stand their ground. Sentinels swarm to remove him.
They do not succeed.
Vines curl from the pavement, binding feet to the ground or tossing them in the air. The image stills. "There's another," she sneers. "Multiplying like rabbits."
"That makes three." My chest rises and falls with undignified rapidity. "We can't ignore them any longer."
"Correct." She tosses the remote aside. "They must be dealt with immediately."
"Let's not be hasty." I do my best to keep my tone even, eyes focused and unflinching. "There are so many factors–"
"Maven." There's no fooling a mind-reader. "Look at me."
Steel yourself. Dig your heels, square your shoulders, and meet her eyes. Dawdling will only make things worse.
"You are young. You have much to learn about thrones and how to keep them." Her fingers brush along my jaw, somewhere between caress and chokehold. "There will always be sacrifices."
"I know." Pain makes you strong. "But--"
She shushes me. "We do what must be done. As we always have."
Images flicker in my mind, memories of stories told long ago. Of silvers of legend breaking free of chains, hunted by those who feared their might. They did it before.
They'll do it again.
I draw a breath, clear thoughts too vivid to be the result of natural recall. "At the dawn of our age." Pause. "Perhaps we are at another."
Scoff.
"I'm serious. These reds have greater strength than their silver equivalents." I gesture to the screen again, at the seedless concrete no Greenwarden should've broken. "We don't want them turning to the Scarlet Guard."
Her lip curls. "What do you propose? That we make lords and ladies out of swine?"
"Not lords." I chuckle. "There are new roles we can carve for them. Give them something to lose by standing against us."
There are moments I've yearned for Mother's ability, to be freed from the whims of her silence and contemplation. She clucks her tongue. "Risky."
"Riskier than giving them more reasons to hate us?"
A beat passes.
"I can make her love you." Mother takes my hand. "I can rot her memories of Cal, sweeten that of yours, erase all admiration for the Guard and its cause. We'll never worry for her loyalties again."
My hands shake.
It makes no sense, this sickness rising in my throat and prickling at my eyes. A sensible man would take her offer, understand it to be simple and painless. After all, she's done it to me so many times.
"I'll make her behave, I promise. I'd--" A breath. "I'd rather you didn't break her."
The words hang in the air, raw and terrifying. She might press further. She might demand to know what I mean by "break", why I would defy her when it never ends well.
"Very well." She exhales, as do I. "You may try this . . . experiment of yours, once I've captured a Newblood who can tell me how it ends." Mother stands, and I almost flinch. "Don't get too invested, son." A rare smile. "You hold half of my heart, after all."
Guilt shreds my insides as I smile back. "And you hold half of mine."
She kisses my forehead, giving one last hug before the Queen takes over. My chambers are empty, as usual, until the door creaks and I find no one there. No one rustling the curtains as if to hide something behind them. No one leaving a handwritten note atop a tin of paste.
Medicine. She'll appreciate it.
My fists clench. This can't continue. I can't keep letting her destroy herself and everything we've worked for. If she grows to hate me, so be it.
It's the only choice we have.
YOU ARE READING
Red Ruse
Fanfiction"You will live. It's a question of how much she's willing to indulge me. Of whether you'll be my prisoner--" He softens. "Or my queen." My queen. The words twist and ache with implication, with promises he can't possibly fulfill. "There's a di...
