The Pain in Our Veins (Maven Time Travel)

Chapter Twelve

I find her in the roses, framed by dewdropped thorns and dripping petals. The ground is slick with fresh rain, a muddy path that nearly trips me. She raises her head. "Early walk?"

"Couldn't sleep." My hand rakes through my hair, peering at her through my lashes. "I had an idea last night, and I wanted to hear your thoughts."

She flushes, makeup tinting her cheeks gray. It makes her look a corpse. "My thoughts?"

"Yours." I slide beside her, brushing a hand along her shoulder. My mind goes white, begging me to pull her closer, closer, closer until we both ebb to dust in the wind. "No one else's."

Mare shivers. "Flattered."

"If I were the one to take the throne–" My voice lowers, feathering on her skin. "Would you be my queen?"

She stills. In the distance, birds coo the rise of dawn, of light casting the courtyard in sun and shadow. It catches on her gown as she shifts. "You–" Her breath catches. "You think that's possible?"

"Cal will burn himself out on the battlefield." I take her hand, pressing it to my lips. "And Father's time is running out."

Her head bobs. "They would have to die."

"As your people do every day." The sorrow is easy, a burden I've never carried yet weighs heavy nonetheless. "Their lives are a small price to pay."

"It is." She shuffles on the bench, away from me. "It still hurts."

"Why? You barely know them."

"You do." Mare shakes her head. "Could you live with it, if you had to kill them?"

"I told you, I don't love Cal anymore." The words are tired, an unending truth. "Nor have I ever loved my Father."

She frowns. "That's not true."

My laugh surprises me, a sharp keen more suited to a dying dog. "Why would I? He's never loved me."

Her lips part, brows drawing back. "I–I don't think–"

"I've lived with him longer than you have, my darling." My anger coils within me, a serpent waiting to strike. "I'm an obligation he didn't want. A marriage he couldn't avoid."

Mare shuffles, staring into the distance. "What would you do? If you were king."

"I'll abolish the Measures."

Her grip tightens. "Back to the way things were."

"What if I ended the war?" Perhaps I'd leave Cal alive, should he agree to marry Iris. "The bloodshed has gone on long enough. I'm sure I could negotiate a truce."

Her eyes widen. "No more conscription?"

"Of course." My blood pounds as she smiles, the break of dawn on a winter night. "I would never lie to you."

She hesitates. "Would Elara let you?"

Cold seeps my bones, a falter in my smile. Mare is not as attuned to my expressions as she used to be. Perhaps she won't notice. "She wants me on the throne. I'm sure she'll agree to some conditions."

"What if she didn't?" She draws back. "She calls me a rat on a daily basis. She'll blame me for any change she disapproves of. It wouldn't be long before she stages an accident." Mare shudders. "One less person to compete for your attention."

"She needs me. And I won't let her erase you." My fists tighten. "She'll see your use eventually."

"If she didn't." A breath. "Would you betray her?"

My vase shatters on the floor, my record skips in place, my knots tear free and leave naught but shredded cloth. "Mother needs my cooperation. If–"

"Would you?" She doesn't blink. "If it came between us, would you choose the right thing?"

My nails turn to claws and rake across my palm. "Would you?"

"She's not an innocent, Maven. If you can disavow Cal and your father, you can disavow her." Mare edges closer. "For us, Maven?"

"No."

She jolts. "But–"

"You know who I am, Mare. Isn't that enough?" My voice grows stilted, frantic. "Cal would never–"

Mare frowns. "What about him?"

"He's not like me. He won't give you this chance. Choose me, Mare." The words drip, slow and fast, everything and nothing all at once. "Choose me, and we'll run towards a new dawn together."

"Choose . . . you?" Her breath hitches. "This isn't about revolution, is it?"

Oh.

Oh no.

"Of course it is." I smooth her hair, and she smacks my hand. "What else would it be?"

She draws back. "What am I choosing you over? Your brother?" Mare looks me in the eye. "Is this just jealousy for you?"

"Does it matter?" I force a smile. "I'm here for you all the same."

"Farley warned me."

"Mare–"

Her hand yanks out of reach. "Don't." She stares, tears welling, shaking as her feet stumble backwards. The air grows cold as she leaves, and I stand alone. A hand grazes my shoulder. It doesn't tighten. It doesn't mock me. Only slides down to my fingers, a reassuring squeeze.

And I turn around to find Mother staring down at me.

She doesn't say anything, opening her arms to let me cry. I throw myself into them, a cold embrace, a familiar fate, comfort I can't find anywhere else. "I'm sorry, I–"

She hushes me. "I already know, son."

"You–you do?" An embarrassing stutter, one that makes me cringe. She smooths my hair, straightening. "How–"

"I told her." A chipper voice cuts through the haze. "I came for her first, and you second."

A face that can't be Mare's, yet looks just like her strides into view. Mother nods. "Mandy, darling, did Cal take the bait?"

"He did." She straightens. "The footage is set. We can incriminate her without problem."

I clear my throat. "Who are you?"

"Oh!" The girl covers her mouth. "Mother had a healer change my face."

My head spins. "You knew all along."

She shrugs. "I told you, Mother has always known me."

It all makes sense, how she comes and goes without being caught. How long did she perfect her smile, to feel as though they had some connection?

Mother kisses my forehead. "Don't cry for her, son." She grins. "Get revenge."