Hey guys! Thank you for all you're support so far! It really does a lot to keep me pumped and I really appreciate it. Thank you all for being patient for each of the chapters and giving me your suggestions and feedback, they've been really helpful. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
Mare's POV
Marry him. "Why?" my voice is hardly louder than a whisper.
"There is only one thing in this world that my brother cares about, only one reason left to live for. I don't think I need to tell you what- or who rather- that is."
"You've already ripped him of everything- his throne, his father, the love of his people. His nights are lost to nightmares about you and your mother. He was never cruel to you, he cared about you. He didn't do anything to you to deserve this."
He clenches his jaw and his voice comes out harsh," When you were betrothed to me, when you were supposed to be mine, he took you from me, stealing you away for kisses in the moonlight. You were the only thing I had that he didn't and he took that away too. I'm going to do the same to him."
"I'm not a thing to be passed around or taken. I make choices for myself, and I chose to kiss him back that night."
He continues as if I'd never spoken, "I'm going to show him what it feels like to loose everything to your brother. I'm going to show him what jealousy really feels like. I'm going to take away the last, most precious thing he has. And you're going to play along."
"So you're doing this all out of jealousy? You're going to waste your entire life away with me out of jealousy? "Disgusting.
"There is no one else I would rather spend my time with. No one who would give me the same fruits as I'd get if I marry you at least," he adds, "So Mare, do you accept my offer or shall I gather another batch of red children?"
One life for five thousand. My choice is clear, obvious. Slowly, I nod my head, tears of frustration welling in my eyes.
"Wonderful, we'll announce our wedding this evening. Till then, my maids will make you presentable."
"When?" I try to keep my voice even.
"When what?"
"When do we get married?"
"Five weeks."
He turns to leave but I stop him, a small, stupid attempt to at least postpone the announcement and possibly even the marriage to follow, "What are you going to tell your people?"
A sly smile tugs at his lips and whatever hope I have is extinguished, "You'll find out when I see fit."
His smile is enough to tell me that I'm not going to like whatever excuse he made up.
The young girl tugs the last loose strand of my hair into place, declares I'm ready and stalks out of the room. I stare at the reflection in front of me, hardly recognizing what I see.
I'm wearing a beautiful strapless midnight blue gown, twinkling jewels entwining the lace of the bottom half. The silver tips of my hair are hidden in an elegant folded bun, my face bedecked in neutral colored makeup.
The collar and shackles are gone, but I'm still weighed down by silent stone. It's embedded in the layers of gold and silver decorating my chocker, which is locked from the back, concealed by my low hanging bun.
"If you're done checking yourself out, my sentinels will escort you to the entrance. You're to stand behind the door until you are summoned, "Maven comes closer, his hand grazing the brand on my collar as he whispers into my ear, "and if you don't put on a good façade, I won't hesitate to send the red filth back to the trenches."
I shudder at his nearness, but he doesn't linger, stalking out of the door just as a set of guards rush in. They aren't as rough as they usually are, holding my hands rather than dragging me by my arms. We walk towards the entrance, the route now familiar. I guess it doesn't matter if I memorize the way or not; even if I get the chance to escape, Maven knows I won't leave now, not with our deal in place. It may not be visible, but I'm more bounded now than I was when I got here.
The front doors are closed, though I can still faintly hear an exuberant crowd. Most of them probably expect more torture and others probably more humiliation. I doubt many expect what is truly to come.
Seconds later the crowd falters, probably hushed by their King. I can't hear a word of his speech through the door, no matter how much I strain my ears.
Two sentinels stand next to the door, readily gripping the handle, a couple stand on either side of me, alert for any sign of movement and another hands me a plate with a small piece of cake on it, along with a silver fork. For my birthday.
The prison meals I've been given have been small and tasteless, so the cake is hard to resist. I shove a bite into my mouth and drown in the taste. I've never eaten something so good before, not even when I was here last time. The cream of the cake is rich and creamy, the base soft. The cake leaves me aching for more as a servant whisks away my plate and fork. Another young servant scurries in to meticulously wipe my mouth and apply yet another layer of lip gloss on my lips.
As soon as the servant is out of sight, the sentinels swing the door open and a wave of nausea suddenly rolls over me. I shouldn't have eaten the cake.
If you don't put on a good façade, I won't hesitate to send those worthless children back to the trenches. Maven's threat is the only thing keeping my smile from faltering.
In an attempt to distract myself from the growing sickness in my stomach, I focus on taking in the crowd. Once they wrap up their seemingly reluctant clapping and bowing I'm given a clearer view of some of their faces. I'm greeted with a variety of expressions ranging from utter disgust to shock to badly failed attempts at respect. What could Maven have told them? Clearly it didn't make me look much better in their eyes.
Maven takes my hand, making sure to display the bejeweled ring on my left index finger, and plants a kiss on it. I try not to flinch at his touch.
I murmur the short speech I was forced to memorize, trying to push the nausea down, "My beloved people of Norta, before I address anything else, I would like to seek your forgiveness. I am aware that this is a lot to ask of you and that several of you do not wish to see me as your queen, but this new turn of events has shown me that my actions these past few months have been complete foolishness. You're king is kind enough to embrace me despite all my childishness and it has made me realize the generosity of my silver brothers and sisters. I would like to thank you for everything you have given me and hope that you can pass off my previous actions as an act of immaturity. I look forward to being you're first red queen and making this already great world an even better environment for you alongside your benevolent king," the disgusting lies rush out of my mouth as my stomach threatens to release its contents.
Maven makes to wrap an arm around my waist, but I turn away just as vomit pours out of mouth onto the white marble floor. I gasp, clutching my stomach, cringing at the thought of all the onlookers.
As my stomach starts to relax, servants rush in to clean the mess. I give them an apologetic glance, before turning to face Maven, afraid of the rage that was sure to await me. Surprised relief courses through my weakened body when I find that he doesn't look angry; in fact under a mask of mock concern he looks pleased, almost as if he knew this was going to happen. Then I understand. I wasn't allergic to the cake, the cake was laced. But why?
I look to the crowd, finding expressions of understanding-some even chuckle- rather than the disgusted, rude looks I thought I'd be given.
Maven caresses my arm and says gently, though loud enough for the camera to hear, "Are you alright, sweetheart? Come let's get you inside for a rest."
I nod, and he links his arm with mine, escorting me into the castle.
When the palace doors are shut behind us, Maven smiles, "You put up an excellent show, sweetheart."
"What did you tell your people?" I blurt, my suspicion about the cake confirmed.
Maven smirks and looks me dead in the eye as he says, "I told them that you're bearing my child. I told them it happened while you were here as my betrothed."
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