Mare

Violence for violence is the rule of beasts

Chapter Music: A Double-Edged Sword

The courtyard below the window of the foyer shows the effects of late fall. The roses, despite the Green warden's effort, have started to wilt and fall onto the stone path. When I blink, I'm in the visions with Jon. When I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, the blood is gone, and all that is left are the petals.

I turn away from the window, trading one dissatisfying view for another. Maven. He sits in a plush, round chair. His fingers drum on the arm of it and his eyes are closed, showing off long, dark lashes. His brows are twisted tightly upward and a muscle in his face twitches.

"Mare, stop pacing." As usual, I don't listen. I only step harder onto the floor, making sure the room takes in the full echo of my heel. "Will you st-"

"No."

"I didn't tell you about the Piedmont Princes just to listen to you wear down the floorboards."

"Then leave." In the corner of my vision, I see him peeking around, watching me walk and back forth. "When will they be arriving?" I ask as I flip a clump of freshly curled hair across the wide neckline of my gown. The gown conceals most of the brand Maven burned into me so long ago.

"Within the hour." His voice sounds so distant. As if he's talking to me through a wall.

"Why are they even coming?" I turn towards him, finally pausing in my pacing.

"Ally countries need to visit one another from time to time." I bite my lip to stifle a laugh as I fold my arms across my chest. He must think I'm completely stupid.

"Yes, but they send an envoy. Not a pair of their royals." Maven's features harden and he shifts uneasily in his seat as his back straightens. "You're not telling me something."

No response.

"Why are they actually here, Maven?" I hiss at the back of his head.

"Hush, they're coming."

I bite back words when the door opens and a Sentinel walks in. The Nortan seal lays on the center of his chest. His voice booms when her says, "Their Majesties Prince Daraeus and Prince Alexandret."

The two men follow behind him, and when they are standing fully in the room the Sentinel leaves, closing the door behind him. The two men look towards us, each with a head of graying hair. It stands out starkly on their brown skin and deep green robes.

"King Maven," They say together, bending into a bow. They are in perfect sync, each a mirror to the other. I wonder how many times they had to rehearse their greeting before they arrived. Maven dips his head in a small nod, and he stands up from his chair. He bows, but it is not as deep as the Princes.

"My brother and I wonder why we were not welcomed in the throne room?" The one to the right says, voice rough with age. Silvers and their protocol, I think to myself.

"It seemed too formal to welcome old friends of the crown, Prince Daraeus," Maven says cooly. His emphasis on "old" nearly makes me laugh out loud. Only my teeth, now digging into my bottom lip, stops me.

The other, Prince Alexandret, eyes me closely from where he stands shoulder to shoulder with his brother. "So it's true. You have chosen a Red Queen."

"You have heard correct, Prince Alexandret. This is Mare Barrow. Our betrothal has greatly aided settling the country again."

"From the unrest that the red rabble caused you?" I wince at his words.

"Yes."

"They have been stirring up our red citizens as well. As you know, of course. Wasn't this one one of theirs?" His nose cringes as he looks at me. I return his stare.

"She was. Now, she calls for their blood." Maven walks towards me, face hard as stone. When his hand finds my waist I feel my jaw tighten. Prince Alexandret's eyes glisten at me- I return the stare.

"Where were you born?" Prince Daraeus says, directing his question at me I quirk my eyebrow towards Maven.

"I thought her ability was lightning, not a silencer." Prince Alexandret says. Do they sense the silent stone in the manacles?

"She is not a silencer. Mare is under the effects of silent stone. To protect members of the court. Her ability can be unpredictable at times," He pauses and turns towards me with a sly wink, "My poor fiance does not know how to control it yet." I bare my teeth at Maven and make sure to dig my nails into his arm when he reaches out to me.

The Princes look suspiciously at me, and I'm not sure if they bought the lie. Maven's hand poke at one of my ribs and I say my line through clenched teeth, "There is a royal banquet prepared in your honor." My voice oozes with falsity, but if they sense it they do not show it. Something is odd with these two princes. I bend in a shallow, wavering curtsy.

"We will discuss your predicament then," Maven adds. I snap my eyes towards him. I know he must feel it, despite the cool smile that masks any other emotions he may feel. Even so, he doesn't squirm under my gaze.

Already knowing of the banquet, it didn't take long for the Silver Houses to assemble. Families, all adorning their house colors, sit together— leaving me and Julian to find our own place. As the last living descendant of his line, there are no expectations for him to sit anywhere else but with me.

Maven and the Piedmont Princes sit across from us, conversing quietly at the head of the table. I've lost appetite for the food, and inwardly I curse that I can't keep up my nightly tradition of painting the walls in peas and potatoes.

The table buzzes with hushed conversation. Children twirl the food around their plates, mothers scold, fathers groan. Twin boys, by the looks of it, laugh when their father sends them a scowl when they pull on their sister's braid.

If I was anyone else, I could see how it would be easy to fall in the illusion that the Silvers cling onto. That there isn't a war brewing outside the gates. That they're safe. For one moment, I let myself believe that I am Julian's daughter, blood a metallic silver, making her first appearance at a royal banquet. That the red and black dress has now changed to yellow and gold— even if it's just for a moment. I hear my name across the table. I turn towards the voice, trying to find who called it. It's Jon. He wears servant's attire, the grey bringing out his scarlet eyes.

Then, a bullet whizzes past my face, right where my head was moments before.

"Get to the King!" Someone shouts above the screams of the houses. I feel a hand on my shoulder, pushing me underneath the table as the lights go out.

"It's me, Mare," Julian says, holding me in a tight embrace. "You aren't hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. What the hell is going on?" An ear-splitting scream pierces through the darkness as more bullets rings out.

"I don't know." In the faint glow of light that emits from the candles that lined the top of the table, I can see his face. His eyes dart around wildly and he tightens his hold on me.

"You don't think it could be them, do you?" A long pause follows my question.

"No, they wouldn't shoot at you." The disappointment cuts through me. They're not here.

The lights flash back on, and Julian pulls us out from the table. Jon is nowhere to be seen. Houses are attacking houses. Lerolans, exploding everything in their path, scurry away from the scene and house Iral are making runs for it with their unnatural speed and balance. A Civil War.

"For King Tiberias the Sixth. Long live the true king!" An Iral man yells before he disappears out a window. A handful more scream the same line. Some before they make their escape, others before they are silenced forever.

Guards grab at anyone wearing the orange, yellows, and blues that mark the House of Lerolan and Iral. Many fall. A strong arm snaps the neck of an Iral lord. His name comes bubbling to the surface, Lord Lanaire. I see Evangeline hurtling knives, twisted into large chunks of metal, at any runners.

"You need to get back down, Mare."

"Why would-"

"Healer to the King, now!" A guard shouts behind me, cutting me off. When I turn to look, Maven lays on the ground, hands clawing at his throat that is bubbling out silver blood so dark it looks black. To his left, Prince Alexandret lies motionless. Blood has started to soak through his white shirt.

Wren comes sliding in next to him, her gown already stained with blood. She presses her hands hard to his throat, and I watch as skin grows over the bullet hole. Damn you, Wren.

"Traitors!" A woman screams- a banshee screamer by the pounding in my ears- at a pair of Iral members being detained by Sentinels. I whirl to watch as one of the Iral members pop a blue pill into their mouth. In a few seconds, they slump in the arms of a guard, mouth foaming. The other one is not as successful with their attempt.

The attack is over nearly as fast as it began. The only bodies that lay claim to the Lerolan and Iral colors now are the dead or imprisoned. The rest have managed to escape the palace. I shiver at their words, Long live the true King. They named Cal as the true heir. He is, of course, but Cal is with the Guard. Long out of the reach of silver nobility and Maven is on the throne. So many of the fallen had families, and they risked it all to make a movement for Cal. Something isn't right here.

"Mare," Julian says as his finger meets my face. I startle, nearly jumping out of his hold before I realize it was only him. I lift my hand to where he touched and feel the sticky trickle of blood forming.

"The bullet must of grazed my cheek," I echo. My eyes filter around the room, looking for any sign that the Guard had a part in this. Instead, I find the bodies of one of the Osanos twins. I turn away before his face can fully register in my mind. I don't need any more ghosts. No one wears a scarlet cloth to give credit to the Guard for this.

When I lean on Julian, my eyes find themselves on Maven- The only remnant of his injury is his blood-stained throat. He stares right back at me with wide, frightened eyes. I make sure he sees my cheek. Oh Maven, I think, What has your court turned into?

"You," A low voice growls when they grab me by my arms and twist me out of Julian's hands. Prince Alexandret's cold, dark eyes bare down on me as he presses his fingers harder into my arms. They look like an ocean, spitting down ships and drowning sailors in their depth.

"You must of had something to do with this," He says loud enough to hush the chaos of the room. My mouth hangs open loosely as the eyes of the room burn across my skin.

"No-" Julian sputters out.

"Silence. You are nothing of importance here, singer." Prince Alexandret's voice booms with rage, but his eyes have begun to redden. He's lost a brother. Soon the anger will subside and all will be left is grief. "How else did she come out of this without a scratch? I smell red stench all over this." His teeth are bared and he stares at Maven with a hunger I'm not sure even a king can quench.

"That's not possible, Alexandret. The people who fired the guns were not reds." Maven's face may be stone, but his voice wavers as he stands there with his stained skin. Prince Alexandret does not look convinced.

"If there is nothing to fear then let me question her. The Princes of Piedmont can always see through a lie," Alexandret snarls. He freezes, his face molding back into a cold expression. He looks at me before speaking again, "Perhaps, she overheard something without realizing what the words meant."

"She may give up other valuable information involving the politics of this throne. Things that even my closest allies do not need to know." Maven knows I have not, but he's trying. Trying to save me from having my insides torn out. It may just be to keep his lie, but I see it so plainly. He loves me.

Prince Alexandret takes me by the wrist and throws me to the ground. I hear the tearing of fabric when a piece of it comes unsewn from my skirt. I keep my eyes low when my body comes to a halt and all I see is boots. He's given up. He's thrown me back to Maven.

"If you won't let me do it, then let him," he sneers. I feel my body go rigid when I slowly look up. It isn't Maven at all, but the man has the same eyes. Samson Merandus. His lips are pulled apart in a wicked grin. I killed his sister, the queen. I can't imagine what he imagines doing to me.

I turn my face towards Julian, he's gone pale and looks at Maven pleadingly. Maven turns away from him and sets his gaze on me. For a moment, I see a muscle tense in his jaw and his eyes harden with determination. But then he looks towards the other high house nobles watching him intently. Maven inhales slowly, something in his eyes shifting.

He nods at Samson.

"No, please- " My hands go up, trying to defend myself from an untouchable enemy. I feel the manacles unlock around my wrists. They do not clatter to the ground, they only lay trapped in the sleeves of my dress. The suffocating silence lessens, but my lightning does not come when called. Once I thought of the manacles as the only thing keeping me prisoner. I was foolish. They were double-edged swords. They may have snuffed out my lightning, but they kept the monsters out of my mind. "Maven, please!"

Samson leans towards me, grinning madly. "What you did to my sister- how you paraded her body around- I will make you pay a hundred times over. I will make every nerve in your body feel as if it is being kissed by lightning." And then his voice splits into my mind.

The memories are dragged slowly and painfully across my mind, like being fished for in the sea of my mind. Cal grins at me as he twirls me around the ballroom in my nightgown. Farley pulls me close, claiming me as a sister she never knew she needed. Kilorn falls into the creek while we play as children. Cal leans in, kissing me slowly.

My throat seems to go hoarse with my howling. I double over, holding my head as I try to slam it onto the floor.

Sit up, Samson's voice pounds through my mind and my body snaps up before my head can smash into a million pieces.

Cal throws a horrendous pun into the air of the jet as we walk off looking for Newbloods. Shade and Farley walk hand in hand, smirking when they see me. Maven burns a brand in my collarbone. Cal holds me close as I cry. This isn't an interrogation at all.

No, it isn't little lightning girl, replies Samson as he cuts deeper.

Julian sits in his old study, too many books to count. The warm sunlight shines on his face and we talk about my lightning. I send a wave of lightning on Elara Merandus at the landing strip of Corros Prison. Her skin is purple and yellow and her gaunt blue eyes look up at me when she comes to a still. She doesn't look peaceful even as a corpse. Shade teleports in front of me, hand outstretched. Metal plunges through his chest.

Cal smiles at me, Shade falls. Farley screams at me, I push Kilorn away. Julian sits in the hospital, clutching my hand. Shade's blood splatters across me. The jet explodes. Shade falls.

I see Shade's death play again and again before I finally plunge into darkness.