war has begun, and if they're not careful, a fatality will tear them down.
NO SMUT OR SEXUALIZING ━ if any of the triplets are uncomfortable with this fanfiction, it will be taken down immediately.
matt sturniolo x fem! oc x chris sturniolo (LOVE T...
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𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎. A Glimpse of Home
Maeve
MAEVE IS SURPRISED to learn that Chris' usually meticulous schedule of hearings and court gatherings is suspended for the rest of the day. She supposes their conversation had a stronger effect than she expected. His absence confines her to her room, to Cedric's books. She forces herself to read, if only to block out any memories of the morning. Chris is a talented liar, and she doesn't trust a single word he speaks. Even if he was telling the truth. Even if he's a product of Astraea Silvius' meddling, a thorned flower forced to grow a certain way. That doesn't change things. Maeve can't forget everything he's done to her and so many others. When she first met him, she was reeled in by his pain. He was the boy in shadow, a forgotten son. She saw herself in him. Second always to Emira, the bright star in her parents' world. She knows now that was by design. He caught her back then, ensnaring her in a prince's trap. Now she's in a king's cage. But so is he. Her chains are Silent Stone. His is the crown.
A week passes until she leaves her room again. Even though they're a gift from Chris, a reminder of his strange obsession with her, Maeve is grateful for Cedric's books. They're her only company. A piece of a friend in this place. She keeps them close, alongside Emira's silk scrap.
Pages pass with the days. She works back through the histories, traveling through words that become less and less believable. Three hundred years of Sturniolo kings, centuries of Silver warlords ━ this is a world she recognizes. But the farther she goes, the murkier things become.
Things like Silvers being persecuted by Reds, when they first came to be. It was during the so-called "Reformation Period" and they were hunted because they were different. Once, she would've laughed at the thought. Ridiculed it. Thought it to be impossible. Stupid, even. But she's seen the Silvers do the same thing to the newbloods, time and time again. Still, she can hardly begin to fathom a world where the gods that bleed ichor aren't the rulers of the world.
These are Cedric's books. He saw enough merit here to study them. Even so, Maeve feels too unsettled to continue, and she keeps her reading to later years. The New Era, the Sturniolo kings. Names and places she knows in a civilization she understands.
One day, her delivered clothes are plainer than ever. Comfortable, made for utility rather than style. Her first indication of something amiss. She almost looks like a Security officer, with stretchy pants, a black jacket sparsely embellished with pinprick whorls of ruby bearing, and shockingly sensible boots. Polished but worn leather, no heel, just the right amount of pinch, and enough room for her ankle manacles. The ones at the wrist are hidden as usual, covered by gloves. Fur-lined. For the cold. Her heart leaps ━ she's never been so excited about gloves.
