Red Ruse

Chapter Nine

Mare

The transport is small, too small for my liking, and I seat myself on the opposite window from Maven. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to my palm. "There's no time for a healer. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I straighten. "It reminds me who I am. Why I'm here."

Maven frowns, but says nothing. What could he? We each have different visions of who the other should be. Different backs that will not break, different flags to never wear white. I hold his hand in one, and a dagger in the other.

"When were you going to tell me about the whisper?"

His scowl deepens. "Evangeline was eavesdropping, was she?"

"Good on her. Someone needs to keep an eye on you." I cross my arms, unyielding. "Tell me what you need, and I will find another way to get it."

"What I need is the trust of my court, something you do not have." Maven runs a hand through his hair, twitching. "You are not the only one I need to please."

Please. The word angers something deep within me, something that grabs his hand before it can retreat to his side. My fingers bruise his. Beneath them, smooth hair feathers against my skin. "Humor me."

Sweat rolls across his brow. The air between us is a ragged inhale, a line drawn taut. I shouldn't have grabbed him. Shouldn't have let us perch on the edge of another kiss. Part of me wants to. Part of me wants to tear his teeth with my lips, to whisper sweet nothings until he does my bidding. To use him as he once used me.

He pries my fingers away. "I need to be sure your Reds are who they say they are. And loathe as I am to ask anything of my cousins, I cannot read minds. So I picked the least dangerous among them."

I bristle. "Why should I believe you?"

A glint in his eye, one that would have brought a different Mare to her knees. "We're still engaged."

It takes a moment to register. "You're not serious."

"Your display interrupted my engagement to Evangeline." He leans closer, hand skimming my shoulder. "No one has demanded we redo it yet."

"You can't possibly–"

Maven sighs. "I know you'll never love me, Mare. But I can live with you using me."

The words linger in the air, a path affixed to the edge of a cliff. I clutch my gown, colors registering for the first time. Black. Red. The mark of House Calore.

He notices my gaze. "Red as the dawn." The phrase reminds me of a different Maven, one who would've called this person a monster. "I thought you'd appreciate it."

"Did you?" My hand snakes to the base of his neck. Kiss him. Choke him. Either path will end in tears. "Then you're not as smart as you look."

"Careful." Maven pries my fingers away. "You're still bleeding."

"And whose fault is that?"

He doesn't answer, trailing a hand until he's holding the handkerchief again. The fabric has long ceased to be white, staining his fingers as he tucks it away. It suits him.

I sniff. "Who are we visiting, anyway?"

"A once great general and a former queen." He looks out the window. "One I haven't met in a long time."

"Once great." I edge closer, and our knees brush. "What changed?"

"Poor thing lost her mind after Coriane's death." Maven dusts his fingers. "Stopped coming to court. Sat out of meetings. What a tragedy."