My King of Darkness (Maven x OC)

Chapter 1

   Lydia

       In my world, Reds learn quickly not to hope for much. We don't live very long lives (or I suppose we hope we don't all things considering). To most this is disheartening, but to me...   
       It means I don't give a damn.
       I've always just wanted to get through my life without too much hassle. I even came up with a list of rules: don't get involved in someone else's drama, don't choose sides, don't start shit. I could go on, but you get the idea.
       My family lives in the heart of the country, where few Reds live. That did make us better off than most. My parents and I worked at a pub, and when I was old enough I began to bartend at a Red speakeasy with my friend, Ben. It wasn't a too bad life.
        I was going to be a journalist. I real one. Who told the truth, not the Silver garbage that was usually peddled. Not because I want justice or rebellion or any of that nonsense, hell I just wanted to get through my life and have a bit of fun along the way.
        Instead I craved the truth for the sake of its rawness, for the gripping stories, for the simple feeling of my pen hitting paper. Not to mention I'm naturally nosey.
        And I have a bit of a secret that helps with that...
        Ben glanced up as the door to the speakeasy swung open. "We don't open until—Josephine! I—I thought—"
        The pretty blond stormed up to him, "I don't want to hear it, Benjamin! We are so through!"
        "But—But—"
        "No buts, Benjamin! I know what you did with that whore last night!"
        Benjamin's face turned to confusion and then panic, "I don't know what...Josephine?"
        He trailed off as I dissolved into laughter. "Lydia?" he sighed.
        I morphed back into myself, "Heehee, yeah. I couldn't say that with a straight face."
        Ben scowled at me, continuing to work behind the bar, "Lydia, it's not funny. You're lucky no one saw you."
        "You should have seen your face!" I cried, bounding over the bar and helping him with a keg.
         Slowly, patrons trickled in. I was pouring a drink for a school friend, Charlotte, when Ben came sauntering over, a magazine clutched in his hand, "Afternoon Charlotte, have you read the latest edition?" He gave me a sideways grin. I'd started publishing articles in a Red magazine about conspiracies, theories, the like.
         "What's the news, Bates?!" a patron called from a table seeing the magazine.
         "Read for yourself!" Ben lobbed the rolled up paper, sending it spinning through the air.
        A black gloved hand shot into the air, snatching the paper midway through its journey. The man attached to it stood, along with his other black clad companions scattered throughout the bar.
        Sentinels.
        "SCATTER!" a voice bellowed and the speakeasy exploded into chaos.
        Ben dove into the cash register, emptying it into one tight fist, while the other hand grabbed me and dragged me right over the bar, "Come on!"
         We were halfway to the back door, when someone slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. Ben didn't notice in the chaos and I lost sight of him. I transformed into the woman who knocked into me, having disappeared into the crowd herself. I rushed the main doors, but someone else crashed against me, causing me to loose focus, morphing back into myself and falling...
          Right at the feet of a Sentinel.
          That's where I thought my writing career ended. Dragged off to the palace to the feet of the king who "hired" me to work for them, writing out their lies for all of Norta to fall for in my beautiful writing style with my own precious quill.
           Or else, he'd have my whole family killed.
           A stipulation being I wasn't allowed to tell anyone (little footnote in there).
           Thus, I lost all of my friends, except Ben.
           That was a great setting in which to meet my childhood crush for the first time face to face.
            Yes, living in the heart of Norta has its perks (I mean, no Red would really call this a perk),  one being that we actually see the royal family in the flesh now and again. The king and queen and their two sons. Up until a few years ago, Prince Maven seemed the total package, charming and warm and mannerly. Nothing like his cold, military minded half brother. He was what the Reds needed. He would make things better. He deserved better than that bitch Mareena.
            Then the shit hit the fan.
            As you can imagine, watching your crush screaming for his betrothed to die kind of kills the fantasy romance a little.
            That was three years ago.
            Now I spend my time being told by one the king's attendants what lies I should write about. I sit in meetings with the Head Houses, writing down everything that was said, just for the attendant to cross out half of it. I watch executions, many of which consisted of King Maven setting victims on fire and laughing his ass off about it. If I wasn't scared shitless I might even be entertained. In my youth I'd only dreamed about being this close, to having this good a view of those brilliant blue eyes, to hear his laugh.
            Maybe that's why I took the bet.
            Ben had practically dragged me down to the speakeasy to drink with his friends (the ones that used to be our friends). It was after closing and we took shots by candlelight around a few tables that had been pushed together. It was like old times. I entertained with my ability, morphing into the others and mocking them. Then Charlotte spoke up, "So, you're like that Mare girl right? Red with Silver abilities."
              I felt my face burn, "Yeah, I guess."
               Thinking about my abilities always got too complicated. I didn't want to get involved in anything solely because of my genetics. Another rule.
               "Hey, you work in the palace, Lydia. Have they found her yet?"
               "No,"
               "Damn, the Scarlet Guard is getting more and more powerful every day,"
               "I hear King Maven is practically exploding to find her,"
               "Nah, he's had to have given up by now,"
               "Now he just wants to hunt down people like Lydia,"
               "Hey, yeah, Lydia, are you in danger?"
                The chorus of worried murmurs was broken by a loud, "Of course, she's not in danger!" Jacob dropped his feet from the table and glared at me, "Why would she be? They already made her their bitch!"
             "Jacob—" Ben started.
             "Lydia only cares about herself, Ben. She ditched her own people to rub elbows with the Silvers,"
             "You know that's not true, Jacob," Charlotte said, "With her ability, Lydia could undermine them all."
              Jacob stood, "Then why doesn't she. Scared? Or maybe you still have that little girl crush on His Majesty?"
             I stood too, "I don't."
             "Prove it. Here's a wager, steal something from the palace. Steal something from the queen,"
             Anyone will tell you, Queen Elara is the real evil in the palace. Maven is a dick for sure, but in the end, he's just his mother's puppet. One of my theories confirmed.
             "Lydia, you don't have to prove yourself to him," Ben told me.
             But I threw back another shot and turned towards the door, "Meet me here tomorrow at midnight. You'll all have your proof."