Mare

The rose has broken, and where it fell is black blood

Chapter Music: I Swear This to You I Mare x Julian

The blood-red fabric rolls between my fingers. When Maven had thrown it to me, I had thought it to be a red piece of cloth torn from some sort of material. Maybe even with the Scarlet Guard Insignia of a blazing sun on it, but upon closer inspection it was silk. No doubt cut by Julian from one of the Scarlet Guard's "burrowed" supply shipments. It catches the sunlight that filters through my window now as I twist it and twirl it. It's a habit I've picked up in the two long weeks that followed Julian's capture.

When Maven first announced our engagement, the nobles wanted nothing to do with their king- or their future queen. But outside the palace walls, the rebellions that were burning through the kingdom had come to a sliding halt. A red or a Newblood has never sat on the throne before, and now there I was, standing at the King's side as we visited towns just outside the palace's gate. Somehow, the same person that was used to bring the rebellion to its full heat was the same person being used to tear it down. It served the purpose Maven needed to persuade the silver houses towards our engagement.

And now here I sit, dressed in a jeweled, scarlet gown Maven had left on my bed that morning. The dress I swore to never wear. A soft, gold sash clings to my exposed shoulders- clipped in place with a golden pendant that befitted my new royal status. Julian has one on too. It blends into his vibrant, golden robes that are his house colors. The reestablished House of Jacos, Maven had declared to the court.

He sits across from me now, eyes intently watching me maneuver the fabric between my fingers. Wren lays a hand on his face, allowing the color to chase away the dark circles that stain his eyes. She just finished doing the same with me. We had to look healthy for the engagement ball Maven pressed into our new schedules. This meant a visit from a healer who understood we were not here by choice, but smart enough not to say it aloud.

Despite being warmed by the embrace of a healer, Julian's brow is heavily furrowed. His one love, Sara Skonos, was a cousin of Wren. Sara too has healer abilities. I can only imagine the pain Julian must feel every time Wren visits us— to feel Sara's ability and to not have her here.

"Mare, will you stop giving me that look."

"What look?"

"That look. Stop looking at me like I am something broken."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," he sighs.

"You shouldn't have come here." I say, re-starting an argument we've had countless times before.

"You needed me."

"No, I needed you to stay safe. I just got you out of Corros, I didn't need you locked up with me as well." A brown curl falls across my face, and I tuck it behind my ear, letting my fingers run through the graying ends of the clump of hair.

"At least this time, I get a warm shower." He says through a chuckle. When my head spins back towards him, his laugh all but dies in his throat. His reaction to my stare, only stirs a small laugh from me despite my scolding. His chuckle starts up again and deep smile lines crease around his eyes.

"Even after all this time you still continue to protect me," I say as my head shakes with disapproval, "When are you going to learn I do not need it."

"Women who wear crowns will always need protection, Mare." A chord in his voice trembles and something in his warm gaze glazes over. He lost a sister once to the crown. A woman whose story was long forgotten by all but the ones who had loved her. People don't like to talk about dead queens. Especially ones whose death is shrouded in mystery and suspicion. Julian rarely ever speaks of her. Though, I'm told of my resemblance to her.

"I don't wear a crown yet," I say, willing him back into the present as I look over his tired stance. In our own isolation, we both swim in the swirling pool of our memories. Both of us know the painful punishment of remembering and how it guts you.

"No," he says, "You don't."

"Finished," Wren interrupts as she pulls away from Julian. She's in her own gown, with silver fabric that climbs up her neck and a red sash to represent the other half of her colors. I feel like a fraud with the colors I display, red and black for Calore with small pieces of gold represented throughout. I'm not even a Calore yet, and still they dress me as one.

I stand up and slip on the boots I discarded earlier. Heels have never been kind to my feet before; I had given up at trying to balance in anything else than the short-heeled leather boots Maven had brought me. Despite everything, he self-righteous asshole he is remembered my inability to pull off heels. I slip the red piece of silk in the sleeve of my gown, hiding it from the world. Julian stands up too, slowly smoothing out the wrinkles that formed in his layers of fabric and capes.

"Thank you, Wren." I smile at her. Even with her darker purpose for being here, she has always been kind to us. Letting us speak freely in her presence, and being very much of a lifeline to us. The most someone has lived under the silent stone that now rests on Julian's and my wrists without a healer was 7 weeks. We're on week 3. Even then, the person looked like a walking corpse. She's the only reason we both are strong enough to stand- even talk.

She dips her head in a bow before leaving the room, "I will let the guards know you are ready for them."

When she exits the door, Five sentinels step in- four silencers for me and one for Julian. They hold the door open, a clear gesture to leave the room. When Julian and I exit the doors, they follow us closely behind. Each time we get closer to the throne room, they fade farther behind us. It's a show for the high houses, of course. Maven can't have his new marionettes being seen as prisoners. Instead, he calls our officers a "security measure." The term must insult them.

When we arrive at the doors of the throne room, we are announced. Julian first, as to leave me for last. He gives me a warm smile before disappearing down the staircase of the room. When it's my turn to walk through the doors, every head turns towards my direction. On the opposite side of the room, Maven sits on his throne. A replica of his sits to his right, empty of the person who is to inhabit it. I can feel his piercing gaze even from here.

The chatter reverberates around the room, leaving my head aching with discomfort. Everywhere nobles drip in jewels and silk as they spin themselves around the dance floor. The nobles who are not dancing, stand at the sides filling themselves with wine. Cameras with bright red dots adorn the ceiling, looking down at the ball.

Julian waits for me on the other side of the door, offering his arm for me to take. He shines a smile towards the silvers who still stare at us. Most of them turn away after I offer them a fake smile as well.

Julian tilts his head towards my ear, "You're getting better at this, you know."

"You'll have to thank my teacher." I give a pointedly look towards him, and a small, crooked smile splits across his face. In truth, the fake smiles were learned a long time ago. And not just taught to me by Julian Jacos. Back when Elara would whisper small, vile lessons into my ear and Julian would teach me through my heart.

If you know your enemies' weaknesses, you know them, she had said in a tone as dark as lightning itself. I can see her now, sweeping through the halls with her blue robes and silver hair. Despite her death, her eyes still haunt me. Reminding me of a destiny she wanted for me. One where I was either dead or at her son's side reigning and killing just like her. In my heart, I am nothing like her. In my mind, we are everything alike.

"My nephew needs us to deliver our speeches with him now. At the throne." Julian says to me. I nod at him, and he leads me towards the direction of Maven Calore.

Our speeches are monstrous, meant to restate our loyalty to the crown and cement the people's trust in my hands. Appeal to them, Maven had said, Earn their trust, but never forget what you represent. His words would come in passing, on our tours of the capital or the nights he'd arrive at my room more lost than the last. I couldn't stop our speeches, Maven made that much clear. If I did, Julian would find himself without his head. Even though I've told myself that my silence is to keep him alive, I feel the persistent tugging to make sure I am never alone no matter the cost. It's pathetic.

Despite the length of the room, Julian and I hit the bottom of the small set of stairs that lead to the thrones in what seems like a matter of a few seconds. I let go of his arm, giving him one last squeeze as I go to ascend first. My gown, heavy with jewels and two layers of capes, drags behind me and it's unfamiliar weight tugs on my shoulders. I feel exposed dressed like this, like a duck sitting in the middle of a duck shoot. Where's a leather jacket when you need one.

When I reach the top of the platform, Julian at my back, I find myself looking once more into the eyes of the King. I see so much of his mother in him. My face is stone, forming a familiar mask. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a camera inch closer. A subtle reminder of who is watching these next moments.

"Mare," Maven dips his head ever slightly, he's much better at diplomacy than I'll ever be. I take my seat, Julian takes his place next to Maven, now serving as a buffer between the two of us. Maven stands up, raising one of his moon colored hands. The music is halted and nobles snap to attention.

"Welcome, houses of noble blood. Today we celebrate the alliance of red and silver. An alliance that will strengthen this country and shake away the hold the tyrannous Scarlet Guard had over our people." Maven says with a booming voice. I feel my hands fumble at the sleeve that hides the precious fabric, the last vestige of hope I have that the Guard will bring me home.

"Together, Silvers will rule and reds will continue their everlasting support towards a better tomorrow. One where Newbloods can feel safe in this world. We will stand united against the rebels who seek to destroy our world. Strength and Power." The corners of my mouth tilt downwards, fracturing my mask as he quotes his father. The father who didn't show his love for his son, the father that saw me as a threat, the father that, unknowingly, helped create the monster in front of me as much as anyone.

The nobles murmur those three words after their King, which is the signal for me to stand up next to Maven and present my part of the speech. When I do, soft hisses fill the air.

"I am Mare Barrow, a girl whose heart bleeds red," I pause, taking the knife that is offered by Maven. I think of how it would feel to push the metal through his heart. I would die with him, no doubt, once the nobles got to me. Julian notices the hesitation in me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him staring me down with eyes as warm and as hard as amber.

Instead, I turn my rage towards putting the blade to my own skin like practiced. When my hand pulls apart at the touch of it, sticky red blood swirls across my palm. I squeeze my hand into a tight fist for the cameras, letting the dark liquid drip onto the marble floor for all to see.

"This quality of my existence led me to be persecuted by the revolutionary group called the Scarlet Guard," I bite around the words. Never forget what you represent. "They seek the death of all Newbloods- people just like me whose blood runs red, but find themselves with powers like the silver-blooded. They manipulated me and forced me into their rebellion," I stop, hoping for Julian to start speaking, but Maven places his hand on the small of my back, a firm statement that I must finish my death speech, "They killed my brother for being different, and they tried to do the same to me," I finish. Julian picks up his part of the speech, he doesn't falter.

"Come to the palace and present yourselves to the court. Let your King and future Queen see you as your whole self. You will have a choice: stay in the life as a civilian, or join the army and fight for your freedom with your brethren. Down with the Tyrants. Strength and Power." Julian sounds believable, I'm not sure I can say the same about my own speech.

"Samson Marandus," Maven calls out as he takes a small step forward. A man in blue dress robes and silver-blonde hair takes a step out of the crowd, "You led the interrogation of the claims made by Mare Barrow and Julian Jacos that the Scarlet Guard lied, murdered, and forced them into their roles in the Scarlet Guard. Tell the court if what they say is true."

Samson looks towards us, blue eyes just like the nephew who stands before him and his dead sister who lies deep in the ground miles away. "It is true," He says, voice ringing throughout the room. In truth, no investigation took place or he would have found that Julian and I were much more willing in our parts as exiles than Maven wants the world to know. Maven takes a step back, rejoining our line the three of us have made. The satisfaction on his face is hard to miss.

"Strength and Power," we say in unison. I don't need my lightning to know every camera in the goddamn country is recording this. Somewhere in the palace, directors are telling men which angle to use on the live broadcast. By now, the image of a red girl united with a silver king has been stained into the eyes of all of Norta.

It's terrifying and dangerous.

When we break from our form, I fall into my seat heavily. A healer walks towards me from my left, with a touch of her hand my cut is gone. I feel Julian's gaze on my back, and I bite my lip to stop it from shaking with the grief the lie cut open. Shade had been my favorite of my brothers. He was kind, uncannily handsome, and dead because he tried to protect his little sister. His killer, Ptolemus Samos, stands in the crowd now. I stare at him as he laughs with Wren. It seems to be hours before I lose focus of his face.

When I blink, I catch a steely-eyed woman staring at me over the brim of her crystal glass. Evangeline Samos. She pulls the glass away from her stained lips and steps out of the crowd to walk towards us. Her metal gown holds tight around her figure, and in the twists of braids in her white hair were strands of metal. Not a surprising accent for the Magnetron woman.

She looks like a queen in her own right. She would have been too. Evangeline was to marry Cal and become the next queen of Norta before Maven's betrayal, but with a swing of a blade, her future was changed. As was mine.

When she meets the bottom of the stairs, Maven beckons her up. A tight smile forms on her lips as she climbs them. "Is our King going to dance with his betrothal?" Evangeline says with a small tilt of her head towards the cameras, "It would send a message to the citizens of Norta that this union is strong." Her eyes roll over the three of us, taking in the image of us. My eyes glitter with distrust.

"This union is strong." Maven drawls. Evangeline's eyes flick over to me, at the fingers that pick mercilessly at my nail bed. She knows better than to believe him.

"Of course your majesty," She says with a well-practiced bow.

Maven stands up from his throne and offers me his arm. I stare at him through wide eyes, and he arches his brow. I don't have a choice in this then. I stand from my seat and slide my arm around his. It hurts to be touching him like this. Like old times. Back when we plotted together to bring the world to its knees.

We walk past Evangeline, who has moved closer to Julian to avoid our descent down the stairs. When the nobles see us approaching, they leave the floor. He leads me out to the center of the room and a piano begins to play. Why we were going to dance off the challenge of Evangeline Samos evades me. He places his hand on my waist lightly, and I take his other in my hand. He leads us into a three-step as string instruments join the piano. The rhythm of the song is familiar, but I couldn't place it. It was from somewhere a lifetime ago.

Around us, the nobles watch our movements. As the song lifts, I spot the Marandus daughter that I saw weeks ago, doll in hand. Her eyes are wide and she watches me intently. He spins me slowly, letting my dress catch the light ever so slightly. My curls fly around my face and I can see a soft smile pull at his lips. He looks like the Maven I loved with that damn smile. The shadows almost leave his face.

The song slows, and I catch the notes. They take me back to another dance, and to another prince.

Everywhere, my muscles stiffen. Maven gazes down on me as he sees that I have finally figured it out and he pushes me through the last steps of the dance. The song that Cal and I once danced to fades and he holds me in a dip. I find myself searching his eyes, looking for the man who was revealed to me in our dance. But, he's long gone as Maven drowns him with the king I have come to hate.

When he pulls me up, the crowd applauds. Maven walks us off the floor. Drunk Nobles fill in the floor behind us as they resume their dance. Silvers push towards us and I free my arm from Maven. Slowly, I slip away from him as I move through the crowd. I want thousands of miles between him and me, but I will opt for a few hundred feet if that's all I can get. As long as he doesn't see me like this: shaking and slouched, from the hole the dance gave me.

He's killing me. I can feel it. I feel the mask cement itself on my face stronger as the days bleed on. When you wear a mask for so long, you lose the person you are underneath it, Julian had warned once.

I feel the burning sensation of hate engulf me again as I push towards the outskirts of the ball. Somehow, Maven will pay for what he's doing to me.

I take a glass of blood-red wine off a table and gulp it down. Then I drink another. Maybe the dead King had it right. Being drunk is so much easier. I grab my third glass, ready to drink it as fast as the other two. But, footsteps coming to a halt from behind me makes me pause.

"Be careful, red rats aren't used to wine," Evangeline says as I turn to face her.

"This red rat is going to be your queen. I would be careful about what you say to me." I bite back.

"I only meant to warn," she sneers as her eyebrows crease together, a picture of false remorse. "You still have to keep up the act Maven has Julian and you playing, and you can't do that if you're drunk. By the way, you're doing a marvelous job, Barrow. Even I have to give you that."

"I didn't ask for your feedback."

"Well, you got it." I fold my arms across my chest, if not in annoyance than to keep me from doing something very stupid. "However, may I offer some advice?"

"Is there anything I can do to stop you even if I wanted to?"

"Fair point," she says through a light laugh. "I see you up there, little lightning girl. Like a lapdog doing their master's bidding. You're playing your part better than most expected, but still being just a pawn in Maven's game. I guess it is partly my fault that you are in this position, it was my house that brought your jet down." It wasn't a surprise, I knew the magnetrons were there that night. Still, it causes my stomach to tighten itself into a deep knot.

"Perhaps you don't know the meaning of advice. You're supposed to tell me something actually useful." I say as my eyebrow quirks and I stare her down.

A slash of teeth splits across her face. Her canines are capped with silver metal. She looks like she could tear your throat out. Knowing Evangeline, she just might.

"Power is fleeting, Mare. Maven's is running out, and hungry dogs are never loyal. Soon enough, they start biting back." She turns away from me and leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaving me alone with my glasses of wine.

I stare into the cup of the liquid and slowly I lower it back to the table. I will not be like the dead King, forever stuck at the bottom of the bottle. No, I will be more. My eyes run over the crowd until I find him. My eyes rest on his crown. It will be mine, even if I have to pry it off of his dead corpse myself.

Maven walks deeper into the group of silvers, vanishing from my view and hatred. When he is gone, only one man stays fixated in my vision. I don't know how he managed to get inside, but then again he would know how to get in without anyone noticing.

The man has two red eyes, and they return my stare.

Jon.