Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Thirty Four - Curious Minds

A/N: Made some slight edits at the end of Chapter Thirty Two so it made more sense, so you might want to look at it first

Mare

Red seeps through the tissue onto my fingers, and I suck in a breath. "What were you thinking?"

"If you'd waited five minutes--"

"Never mind." I shake my head. "Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Rosalie smiles. "You sounded interesting, and I wanted to meet you."

"You risked your life out of curiosity?"

"Yes. Is that strange?"

Facepalm. "I don't need this right now."

"I'll make it worthwhile, I promise." Her gaze sweeps across the floor to the hallway, still empty despite our disruption. "Sorry to impose on you. I--" Her voice falls to a hush. "I've never met another like me before."

"A newblood."

She shakes her head. "No. Though that did pique my curiosity." Rosalie takes my hand. "You're a red who understands what it is to love a Silver."

Love. It's becoming my least favorite word. "You've been lied to. Maven wanted propaganda, and I happened to be within blackmailing range. In reality, we're miserable spinsters."

"I'm not naive." She sighs. "I'm sure it's more complicated than the broadcasts have made it out to be. But the best lies have a grain of truth."

A beat passes.

"Is that all?"

"Tell you what. I'll make you a trade." She points at my collarbone. "If you listen to my tale, I'll get rid of that."

It takes a moment to register. A silent moment, where I don't object, but I don't agree either. She continues. "We were--"

"I want the keys."

Rosalie frowns. "I don't have them."

"Yes you do. They're in your pocket."

Sigh. "Those are different keys."

"I'll be the judge of that." I snatch them from her hand, jamming the first in the lock with no success. "Continue."

"Not here." Rosalie guides me to the closet, nudging aside the plush carpet to reveal a faint square carved in the wood. "Let's go somewhere more private."

Rosalie discovered her powers when she was nine years old.

"I was teaching my little brother how to carry water from the local well to our crops. Pierre had been picking weeds since he could walk, but he was six now, and there was always more work that needed to be done. It is the red way." She beckons me to sit next to her, and together, we push off the edge and hit the ground. "We are not allowed childhoods."

The war posters flash across my eyes.

"We had to climb a steep hill to reach the well, at midday when the sun most grieves the earth. My brother was sluggish and loud, so I, as a mature young lady, told him to shut up and ran ahead without him. A few minutes later, I heard a cry."

"Where are we?" The ceiling grazes my head, and the width is narrow as a hallway. Mud and stone checker the walls, illuminated by a green-blue moss. I take a deep breath. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Don't get excited. You'd collapse of exhaustion before you reached the exit." Rosalie brushes my shoulder. "They're designed for a Cygnet to condense water to pull them through."