Red Ruse

Chapter Twenty Eight

Maven

She didn't tell me.

The halls are alight with the bustle of a new day, one I should already be leveraging to my advantage. Mare has long since left my bedside. There was no reason for her to stay.

I clench a fist against my forehead, against the migraine bubbling deep inside my temple. Mother can use her ability as she pleases. It's not my place to order her otherwise.

I'll fix this.

You can't.

My fingers curl. What does she know? I've lived with Mother all my life, knew her better than I knew my own mind. She wasn't there when her skirts shielded me from the dark. When I cried in her arms as I couldn't in Training.

When she forced me to walk before I was ready. When she whispered the story again and again, held it as proof she loved me more than anyone else.

My fists clench. I can't fix this on my own. That much is clear. Still, I don't need to despair. Mother is not a tyrant with me. She will listen, if I beg.

It's the only choice we have.

My hand sweeps another report off my desk, mindless busywork to distract from Evangeline's folly. Volo is a simple man. He assumes I am simpler.

"I don't blame him." Mother's nails clatter against the desk, snatching the paper before it falls to the bin. "You've been acting like a child."

"Your child."

She sighs.

Now is the time to press her, to insist there's no need to meddle with Mare so. That she is already firmly in my grasp. But the words I manage to speak are quite different. "You didn't tell me."

Her brows raise. "Pardon?"

I stare at my feet, at the words I know to say shattered on the floor. At the path I've always taken crumbling beneath me. "How many times have you not told me?"

Her nails tap, a warning. "Maven–"

I don't have to ask. She already knows. She always knows, because it's her right, her ability, her son to tinker and tear as she pleases. I know it's cruel to tell her to stop. I know it's selfish to call her love a burden.

"Maven."

"You don't remember."

"Do you?" She glides across the room, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Come now. We have more important matters at hand."

"We do." I don't blink. "How many times have you not told me?"

She pauses. "I don't understand." There's something new in her eyes, a hole I have torn beneath her feet. "Don't you want her to love you?"

"I–"

Mother pulls away. "I thought you'd be happy."

My throat bobs. "That isn't love."

"It's my love." She tilts her head. "You don't want it?"

"Of course I do." I clutch my heart, nails digging into my skin. "Even if it hurts. Even if–" My eyes tear away. "Even if you use it as an excuse to break her."

Mother grabs me by the shoulders before embracing me, her limbs cold and unyielding. "I know you love her. And for that, she stays." She draws back. "Don't ask for more than I can give."

I'm selfish, too selfish to do anything but stare. I can't let Mare cloud what little judgment I have left. I can't let this nonsense ruin all that Mother's worked for. "How many times–"

"Enough." She snaps my jaw shut. "This is for the best, Maven."

My lips pry open, but no sound comes out. Mother turns her heel and leaves.

I stare at the floor until she's gone.

I don't expect to run into Evangeline.

I halt, tapping the wall, my expression morphing to a sneer. She returns it, surrounded by Arvens, striding forward with no regard for how she looks. My tongue sharpens to a blade. "Who let you out of your cage, my dear?"

"Her majesty." She juts her chin, smirking. "She asked I prepare myself to attend the ceremony." Her hand brushes over her uniform, bare of studs or blades for the first time in her life. "It wouldn't be a wedding if I didn't attend it."

I chuckle. "You talk like you're still a bride." Cal's bride. Cal's queen. She chose her allegiance just as I chose mine. "It's pathetic, truly."

"Pathetic." Evangeline cocks her head. "Strange, considering you talk like your lover will last the night."

I still. It's too close to the truth, too close to what Mare told me last night. She knows. She knows Mother's plans, Mother's promise, Mother's distant threat still hanging in the air. I bury it in a cheeky grin. "What we do in the night is not your concern, my dear."

Her eyes flash. She doesn't speak. She doesn't lie. Her hand runs through her hair like she's bathing in silver blood. "Have fun." Evangeline doesn't blink. "It's the last either of us will ever have of it."

I draw back, the slightest shift, eyeing the Arvens with all the ire I can muster, "Take this traitor out of my sight, please." I wave a hand. "I see no reason to let her roam."

Several nod, tightening the circle. One clears their throat. "We must show her off to the houses, silenced and made common." He bows, a slight tremble. "Queen's orders, my lor–Your Majesty." His mistake registers too late, tremble deepening. "Surely you can see the wisdom."

She didn't tell me this either.

I rub my forehead. "Chain her, then." The words are slow, deliberate. "If she is to be punished, let her be a spectacle."

His eyes dart. "The queen–"

"Is not a king." I sneer. "Chain her, or let her rot."

I know better to expect a reaction from her, even as a guard leaves to fetch some. She only raises her head higher. "Farewell, future husband." She wears her mask well, even if I can find the ticks and tells beneath. "Your Mother sends her regards."

I turn around and don't look back.