His Red Queen

Chapter Twenty-eight

I lounge on the couch in Maven's office while he works. He hands me a piece of paper with inky script drawn across it.

"What's this?" I take it, sitting up.

"A message from the Lakelands." Maven puts his hands behind his back. He waves a hand. "Read it."

My eyes scan the paper, drinking in the words. Each sentence makes my eyes widen more and more and I cannot stifle the gasp that escapes my lips when I'm done reading. My heart stops and I drop the letter at the tiny zap of lightning which bursts from my hands.

"Maven," I breathe. "How did you pull this off?"

He smiles and takes my face in his hands. "I figured it out."

I pick the paper up again and read a line. "'The Landlander War is ended as of today'. How did you do it?"

Maven walks back to his desk and sits in the large chair. "I sent an ambassador over there to negotiate."

"When?"

"While you were gone." Well, that makes sense. "And hear me out before you freak out about my methods," he adds quickly.

"Okay," I say nervously.

Maven sighs and takes a deep breath. "I sent someone from house Merandus." Noticing my unfiltered expression, he puts a hand out in supplication. But I nod, urging him to continue. I'm not going to attack him until I have a real reason to.

He continues. "I sent a cousin of mine there to negotiate with King Onekad and Queen Cenra. The war needed to end. And they demanded I divorce you and marry their daughter—"

My stomach drops. "You're divorcing me for peace?"

He looks as if he's been struck. "No!" he cries.
"They wanted that kind of an alliance but obviously, I'm not leaving you. You can't get rid of me that easily." He winks. Then laughs. I don't find it funny. "Anyways, I promised them information instead. On the Scarlet Guard."

My breath hitches but I pull on the mask of Mareena Titanos; strong, unfeeling. Certainly not worrying about the rebels. Still, my words are clipped and curt. "What did you tell them?"

"Locations of their bases but no names. I said I didn't know anyone. I also threw in some fake locations just for fun."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. How crazy is he?

"And what happens when they find the wrong bases? When they realize you were flakey with your information?" There's got to be something he's not telling me.

He's lying and I could tell. I'm not as blind as I used to be and he is not going to get away with whatever he wants just because he kisses me and makes promises.

Maven hesitates. "I did what I had to do. That war needed to end." He stands, huffing. "You saw what it did to your family, Mare!" He paces about the room, the temperature increasing around us. "I did what had to be done. I'm not the only one guilty of that."

I ball my hands into fists. "What are you not telling me?" I walk to him slowly, soften my voice. "Be honest."

He looks at me, eyes empty. "I promised them Cal."

Oh. "For what, exactly?" I try to keep my voice even, uncaring. I shouldn't care if Cal is to be a hostage, a king, or just something to wave over our heads. But all I can think about is if he is with Shade and Farley. If that will get them into trouble.

My husband shrugs. "I don't really know. But it's one life for thousands." He walks to the door, that black cape of his flowing behind him. Turning back to me, a lock of his hair flops in his beautiful face. Maven's eyes narrow at me. "You know what choice you'd make." The words shoot through me like a barbed arrow.

He leaves before I can say another word. I sit there on the couch, a painting of House Merandus hanging overhead, the likeness of Elara staring right at me. I shudder goes through me and I get up quickly.

Elara is gone. I remind myself of the fact again and again. Maven sent her away—to some other palace somewhere—a while ago for a hiatus from Maven's court. Luckily, he sent his mother's entire High House.

Instead of worrying about Cal and the Scarlet Guard, I go back to our rooms where the maids are waiting for me. I open the door to the salon full of different materials of various colors. Maids are whispering to one another and all straighten up when I walk in.

"Your Majesty," one of them says, "we've selected several different options that we believe you'll like." She and her partners lead me around the salon, showing me everything from lilac chiffon to deep blue tulle to blood-red lace and silk.

I run my hand along the deep red silk. The iridescent hue shimmers in the lighting from the small chandelier.

Maven loves me in red. I love reminding these silvers that their queen bleeds red.

"I like this material," I say.

One of the maids—a small, pasty girl with brown eyes and dark hair—looks up at me from the back of the room and smiles. "If you liked that, come look at this, Majesty."

I walk around the low table to where the little servant is holding up a purple shimmering fabric which, when it catches the light, looks purple. It's lighting and blood and life and death all mixed tighter in fabric.

My jaw drops. "I love this."

The servant smiles. "We've already made you a dress in this hue."

"What?" I gasp.

One of the other maids laughs behind me. "We did. We made a few different dresses but this one was everyone's favorite to make."

"You should have just shown me the dress!" I beam. I trust you all, especially when it comes to these things."

The servant holding the material says, "Well, we'd better get you in it. You are wearing it to your birthday ball tomorrow."