King's Cafe (RQ fic)

Chapter 8

Maven

If it's the last thing I do, I am going to keep Cal away from Mare. I know Cal and I can't have Mare getting hurt. He can't control his temper, and thus can't control his heat.

I walk to the counter and set my paper crown aflame. There's no point in trying to be something I never can be. I get some coffee grounds going and wait for the lower class Silvers to come in. I'm starting to hate the idea of the colored mugs and the reason I participate in this mess. A Silver comes in, but I don't recognize the face. So I give them their order of boring plain coffee. I drink my black coffee and groan. The same thing again and again. I hate it. Cal can have the world in his hands, but the single tree I have and he burns it all down. I just want Thomas. I shouldn't let myself love her, Thomas is still a wound. The memory of him hurts, and I get a headache remembering everything we went through together.You were mine, Maven, and I was yours. A thought occurs. I never knew his last name. I scream, the cafe is empty, and I know where I need to go. I hate Mother and the thing she made me to be. Just let me go, this will only get worse. Thomas in my thoughts is like wiping blood from a wound. It will only keep bleeding. You have to leave it alone until it heals completely. But the scab gets picked too. The paradox of freaking pain.

And then she comes in and Thomas fades away.

"Double shot espresso, right?" I ask in a small friendly voice.

"Yeah, order for-"

"For Mare Barrow," I conclude.

Her smile says it all. She sits at the counter where Thomas used to sit. It's right by the staircase that leads up to my quarters. You can't see anything but black iron, since my quarters reveal a lot about how I started my day, and shouldn't be public.

I can't help but forget Thomas for a moment as I watch her out of the corners of my eyes. Mare looks around at the crisp blue walls, the retro checkerboard tiles of the floor, the gleaming counters and windows. Her eyes are more like a calm rain shower than a storm now. I prepare her coffee, careful not to make the cup too hot. Even so, the cup is too warm.

"Careful," I warn as Mare takes the mug from my hand, gently for a change. She smirks at me, her hands probably blistering slightly from the heat of the mug. She just won't admit it.

"So, where's your brother? Apollo, isn't it? And you're...Aiden?" Mare looks up at me with utmost innocence. I can see through that. She knows exactly what she's doing. And she enjoys it.

"Oh, yes...I believe he is at our house, studying or doing something else of the boring sort." My voice audibly tightens. Although maybe I can win her over with humor.

"Well, why aren't you with him? Why do you even run this place?"

I can't think of a good answer. Studies never interested me much.

"And on another note, why did your brother call you by another name?" Mare interrogated.

My response was hopefully enough, "I don't know what you mean. You must have been tired that night if you heard something else."

She takes her mug and drains the last sip. Instead of handing it to me, she drops it on the floor looking at me dead in the eye.

I give her a carrot, throwing it and watching it hit her head. I smile and walk up the staircase.

"Come back tomorrow, Mare. Also you owe me four coppers for that coffee."

What did she do? She started climbing the stairs. I was ahead by a few, considering I take them two at a time, and I reach the top. I unlock the door and I start to close it, but Mare's foot is there.

"Aiden, please," she whispers with glassy eyes.

I opened the door and she came in. The study wasn't a lot to look at, since I'm slowly moving into the castle again. I wouldn't tell her that though.

"Do you ever feel like nothing you do will ever matter?" I turned around.

I can tell she's looking at the ground. "I know that all too well, Aiden. I think about it all the time."

"That's how it feels knowing you don't care about me the way I care about you. My brother, when our parents died, he inherited almost everything. This cafe is all I have. So knowing my brother took you too, it isn't something I want to remember," I feel bad lying about my parents, but I hope it's enough.

"Aiden, I know. I come from a place where nothing matters. I'm Red. I myself don't matter," her voice cracks.

I turn around. "Mare Barrow take that back. You matter to me."

"Are you a prince? What makes one opinion stand out from all the others?" she screams.

I can't respond. I can't say anything. And that hurts.

"You need to leave," I stagger back and fall onto the ottoman.

I just sat there. Mare doesn't leave. Why is it that I need her so much, but when I actually have her she makes everything worse?

My mother's voice slithers in my head. She can fix you. You just have to let her. Forget Thomas. Forget him.

She can't make me forget, she can't make me move on. Mare can't fix me anymore than Thomas is alive. And I miss him still.

"Get. Out." I growl and stand up. I'm easily towering over her.

"Aiden, please don't do this again. You miss me when I'm gone but when I'm here, I'm suddenly not enough. Stop doing this Aiden," she raises her voice to another level.

"Choose then. Ca- Apollo or me," I plead. I feel so bad she knows me as Aiden. I wish I could tell her my real name and hear it from her. But I plan to close this cafe within a few weeks, I'm losing everything anyway. So I won't ever see her again, and she will never really know me. Maybe it's for the best. After all, who knows? Elara-Mother- could twist her love into unimaginable things. Maybe we are both dodging a bullet.

"You know I can't choose something like that-"

"Because you know I know you won't ever pick me," I roar. The bell rings downstairs and I push her by her shoulder to get to the door. I ride down the rails and let her stay up there. Nothing up there matters. They think I don't know how she and Cal talk? How do they send each other letters to various addresses? How do they sometimes risk glancing at each other in the streets? I know, and I watch them. How in love they are, how they care about each other genuinely. Something inside me has realized, over these long months, that maybe this obsession with Mare isn't my doing. Maybe it's Mother's. But how could it be, when this feeling is so real?

I shake my head and continue down the stairs.