His Red Queen

Chapter Forty-nine

The message comes early the next morning. A messenger walks right into our room and hands Maven a letter on a silver platter, an engraved letter opener sitting beside it. I pretend to be sleeping, staring at opposite wall.

Maven sits up. He takes the tray with a curt "thank you," and sends him on his way. The door closes inaudibly though I have no doubt the glare Maven had given him before sending him out has him running down the hall.

I groan as I get up and begin putting on a deep purple dress that the maids had set for me in the salon last night. Maven yawns and follows suit, though he is more annoyed about having been woken up at this hour than I am.

"I swear," he says as he puts on a black jacket, matching his trousers. "I should get a sign put a sign on the door for mornings like this."

I snort, quirking an eyebrow, as I stand in front of him so he can zip up my dress. I don't miss the way his fingers run down my spine, a slight touch but a sensual one. "Mornings like what?" I know exactly what he means but hearing it is different.

He hugs me from behind, kissing the crook of my neck. "Mornings I'd rather spend in bed with my wife, continuing the night's adventures." His voice is low, vibrating against my skin.

"Perhaps you should make a sign."

Maven laughs. "And what would this sign say exactly?"

"'Do not disturb'," I deadpan. When he laughs again I add, "Well, if you'd prefer something more creative than I suggest you figure it out."

He pulls away and adjusts his suit in the floor length mirror. He smiles softly at himself then tears  his eyes away from his reflection, turning back to face me. "'Do not disturb' is good," he says, "Though maybe I should make it a law instead that we should not be bothered unless it is a life or death situation from ten at night to ten in the morning." A mischievous grin takes over his face and a sliver blush tints his high cheekbones.

I find myself smiling now, taking steps toward him. "That sounds excellent though it seems like an abuse of power."

He shrugs. "I suppose we have bigger matters at hand."

Indeed we do. Evangeline, Elane, Shade, and Farley reached Piedmont a while ago and have been working with Premier Davidson and his husband, Carmadon on treaties and alliances. I know Elane and Evangeline had other motives to work with him. They mentioned them to me before we all split up after Elara and Volo's deaths. If they can figure out a way to become citizens there, abdicate their thrones, and start new lives, they are bound to do something great.

But I know just as well as anyone that Evangeline Samos does not yield and she will hold on to the crown in the Rift as long as possible just to have something. Can I really blame her? She believes that having a crown is her destiny and when someone believes that something is meant to be, they will make it happen, whether they truly want it or not.

But what about Elane? It's none of my business. I need to worry about Maven and me. Still, I can tell she wants none of this.

"We do," I admit, though there are too many thoughts in my head. I kind of hate that I had to stay here while everyone was away. But this time with Maven has been nice, albeit in the shadow of death.

Maven kisses me softly before opening the door and leading me out into the hall. "I love you, Mare."

We never really say that we love each other. Not explicitly. So his words are a small shock to me though I know them to be true nonetheless.

My response is quick and sure. "I love you too."

I press my lips against his. We head downstairs to the restored throne room. The broken windows have been replaced with intricate stained glass, each window showing a different scene. The first one I recognize as me falling into the arena that first day, the purple shield of lighting failing to burn me alive.

As Maven and I walk hand in hand to the dais, to sit upon thrones devoid of silent stone, I take in the small court we still have assembled. I notice—with no small amount of pride—the Newbloods mixed in the crowd, dressed as well as Silvers, well-fed and well-rested.

"This is what we've been working for," Maven whispers to me as we reach the center of the silent room, full to the brim of our supporters and allies. Soon more will be here. The thought makes me nearly dizzy with excitement. Today can be the beginning of a new dawn, a better world.

"I know," I reply, unable to hide the grin that takes over my face. I am not the only happy one. My husband looks as though he has never been plagued by grief or despair, himself. Whether it is part of his well-practiced courtly mask or not, the assembled crowd seems to drink in his energy as I do.

It is intoxicating, thrilling really. To have everyone here about to witness what I have worked so long for. I gave up my family, my life, to do this and now it has come together. The change is not complete. More progress has to be made—will be made.

Maven and I stand in front of our thrones. A small table has been set before us, two crowns sitting on silver cushions. They are each made of thin silver strips, shined to perfection, with rubies, amber, and tiny pieces of amethyst. The colors of fire, both bloods, and my lighting together in harmony.

Maven ducks his head a bit so I can put his crown atop his head. In silence, I place Maven's on his head, his hair slightly longer now than it has ever been. He smiles at me as he straightens his spine. Then, he places my crown over my brown and grey curls. His clever fingers brush my temples, trail down to behind my ears, adjusting the crown.

It's heavy and light at the same time, the weight of the new world—a better one—on my head.

I notice that this is being broadcasted for the public. I wonder if Mom and Dad are watching. If they are sitting with Gisa, Tramy, and Bree right now, watching as Maven makes his declarations on the new steps that will ensure our future as a country and world.

I cannot help but wonder if they're proud of me.