war has begun, and if they're not careful, a fatality will tear them down.
NO SMUT OR SEXUALIZING ━ if any of the triplets are uncomfortable with this fanfiction, it will be taken down immediately.
matt sturniolo x fem! oc x chris sturniolo (LOVE T...
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𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎. I Must Escape
Maeve
IT TAKES MANY DAYS to return to Archeon. Not because of the distance. Not because the king of the Lakelands brought no less than one thousand people with him, courtiers and soldiers and even Red servants. But because the entire kingdom of Norta suddenly has something to celebrate. The end of a war, and an upcoming wedding. Chris' now-endless convoy snakes down Iron Road and then the Royal Road at a crawl. Silvers and Reds alike turn out to cheer, begging for a glimpse of their king. Chris always obliges, stopping to meet crowds with Reva at his side. Despite the deeply bred hatred they're supposed to have for the Lakelands, Nortans bow to her. She's a curiosity and a blessing. A bridge. Even King Kallan receives lukewarm welcomes. Polite clapping, respectful bows. An old enemy turned into an ally for the long road ahead.
That's what Chris says at every turn. "Norta and the Lakelands stand united now, bound together for the long road ahead. Against all dangers threatening our kingdoms." He means the Scarlet Guard. He means Corvium. He means Matt, Nick, the rebelling houses, anything and everything that might threaten his tenuous grip on power.
There's no one alive to remember the days before war. Norta doesn't know what peace looks like. No wonder they mistake it for this. Maeve wants to scream at every Red face she passes. She wants to carve the words on her body so everyone has to see. Trap. Lie. Conspiracy. Anything to lessen their support for the boy king. But her words don't mean anything anymore. She's been someone else's puppet for too long. Her voice isn't her own. Only her actions are, and those are severely limited by circumstances. She would despair of herself if she could, but her days of wallowing are long behind her. They have to be. Or else she'll simply drown, a hollow doll dragged behind a child, empty in every inch.
I will escape. I will escape. I will escape. She doesn't dare whisper the words aloud. They run through her mind instead, their rhythm in time with her heartbeat.
No one speaks to her during their journey. Not even Chris. He's too busy getting to know his new fiancée. Maeve gets the sense Reva knows what kind of person he is, and is prepared for him. As with her father, Maeve hopes Norta's king and future queen kill each other.
The tall spires of Archeon are familiar, but not a comfort. The convoy rolls back into the jaws of a cage Maeve knows all too well. Through the city, up the steep roads to the palatial compound of Caesar's Square and Whitefire. The sun is deceptively bright against a clear blue sky. It's almost spring. Strange. Part of Maeve thought winter would last forever, mirroring her imprisonment. She doesn't know if she can stomach watching the seasons turn from inside her royal cell.
I will escape. I will escape. I will escape.
Egg and Trio all but pass Maeve between each other, pulling her down from the transport and marching her up the steps of Whitefire. The air is warm, wet, smelling fresh and clean. A few more minutes in the sunlight and she might start sweating beneath her scarlet-and-silver jacket. But she's inside the palace again in a few seconds, walking through the familiar halls.
