Red Ruse

Chapter Seventeen

Revision, adding this chapter and also another half to eighteen (previously seventeen)

Before I can get back to my Newbloods, the head of House Lerolan stops me in the hall. "Ambassador." He nods, shallow, drawing back as I stare him in the eye. "Lord Volo wants to see you again."

"Again?" I raise a brow. Around us, servants mill, a bustle of plates and cleaning supplies, stepping around us as if we were a bomb. "I don't remember meeting in the first place."

He bites his lip. "Perhaps." He clears his throat. "Regardless, you should hear him out." His eyes dart, hesitant. "Take it from me: you don't want to piss him off."

I grit my teeth. Nortan flags line the hall, streaks of red and black, the doors of Training looming just beyond them. My throat bobs. "I could say the same."

He shakes his head. "House colors won't protect you from everything, Miss Barrow." His voice lowers. "And neither will a king's favor."

I scowl. "Fine." I straighten, trying not to flinch. "Lead the way, Lord Lerolan."

He sniffs, an echo of footsteps as he makes his way to the council room. My heart thuds in my ears with each step, a delicate walk on the edge of a precipice. I swallow. "What does he want?"

He doesn't answer. Doesn't pay me so much as a glance. The doors part without a word, a chatter of voices falling to a hush. Several seats are empty, Maven's included, my stomach pooling with dread as I feather a hand on the wall. "Lord Volo." My voice drips with contempt. "What do you want?"

He clucks his tongue, the nobles beside him raising a brow in my direction. "The better question is, what do you think you're doing?"

I laugh, a sharp, mirthless thing. "Not much." My fingers tap the table as I cock my head. "Surviving, I suppose."

He doesn't laugh. "Ah, yes." Volo shakes his head. "I suppose those Reds of yours are just a bonus."

My cheeks heat. Stares burn all around us, cold and hostile, and it takes all I have not to scream at them. "Why are you here, Lord Volo? If the king isn't."

"You made a promise to me, Ambassador." His eyes gleam, dark and glittery. "Did you not?"

I clench my fingers on empty air. "Did I?" My head tilts. "I don't remember."

A lie. My palms sweat, my words from earlier echoing through my mind. I'd said I'd ask the Guard to stand down. Was I about to make good on that promise?

"Don't play dumb." He tuts, shaking his head. "We've talked about this, Miss Barrow. Surely you didn't expect me to ignore it."

I draw a breath. "No." The words are dead, an empty husk. "But not by going behind the king's back."

Several seconds pass.

Volo snorts. "He'd ask the same, if he weren't busy." His hands fold neatly in front of him. "It's why you're here, are you not? To give those rats something to root for?"

I bristle, every inch of me rioting in my skin. Around me, the nobles leer, itching for blood, for a scrap of my dignity they will not get. "I answer to the king, Lord Volo. Do you have a crown I do not know about?"

His fingers tap the table, slow and deliberate. "Have you forgotten my daughter is to be queen?"

I stiffen. It's true, of course, even if Maven begs to disagree. Even if Atara wants me on it so I can grant her favors. I bite my lip. Steel my spine. And then–

"True." I stare him in the eye. "Strange, considering she's been gone the past few days." My hand lolls, lazy. "Where did she go, I wonder?"

Volo sneers, a sharp curl of lips. "None of your business."

I shrug. "A queen should never abandon her subjects."

He scowls. "Stop changing the subject."

"Hmm." I turn around, laying a hand on the door. "I will do what the king asks of me, and no more." I eye him in my periphery, lip curling in distaste. "Don't underestimate what I mean to him."

The council erupts in an instant, protest rippling through the room. I pay it no mind, pushing through the door as I draw a shaky breath. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm–

I slam into something warm and solid as I turn around, as my hands fly to steady myself. Maven looks down at me, cocking his head. "I'm sorry." He turns to the council, arching a brow. "Was there a meeting I've forgotten about?"

"Forgive us, Your Majesty." Lord Volo bobs his head, a lazy show of deference. "But there's been unrest in our midst."

His arm curls to rest at my waist, tugging me against him. "And what does our ambassador have to do with that?"

He sniffs. "She's one of them, is she not?"

"Depends." Maven stared at him, cool. "I wouldn't say these Newbloods are the same as the rest."

I bite my lip, fingers twitching as my grip tightens on his arm. His favor is power. His affection is safety. But he wants more from me in return, more than I want to give, more than anyone in this room wants to see. Part of me wants it. Part of me hates it. Part of me will do whatever it takes to make him mine, and I don't know how much of that is for the sake of the crown.

Maven draws me closer, if that were possible, one hand guarding as the other climbs to my elbow. His eyes flicker to mine for the briefest of moments, dark and ruthless as a storm at sea.

For a moment, I fear he might kiss me."

"Regardless." Lord Volo tuts, running his fingers along the desk. "The Reds still see her as one of their own. They will listen, if she speaks to them. They will listen, if she makes proper use of herself."

My throat bobs. Beside me, Maven tilts his head, looking down at me. "Very well." He pulls back, smiling. "You'll call them off, won't you, Mare?"

I stiffen. Anyone can betray anyone. But this is more than Cal, more than Lucas, more than any of the Silvers I've used for my own ends. This is a betrayal of my very blood, of all I've worked for and all I've wanted. What use am I, if I give in?

I shake my head. "Let's not do this in the open, dear."

He darkens. His voice is low, a soft, deadly thing, full of irritation and spite and other, more ominous things. "And why do you say that?"

I swallow. Against my better judgment, I reach for his hand. "Because everyone in here seems a bit heated." I bite my lip. "It would do them well to cool off."

His fingers twitch, moving to my wrist. "In that case–" Maven turns to the council, nodding. "Give us a moment. Or two. Or three." His eyes burn as they look down at me again, as everything in me screams to run. "I think we have some . . . rules to set. For our ambassador." He reaches a hand to feather my jaw. "Because I think she's breaking them a little too often."

I still. My breath hitches as I pull away, as I grit my teeth against the chuckles that rise behind us. Maven leans down to kiss my forehead, a slow murmur in my ear. "Come, Ambassador." He draws back, lips twitching. "There's only so long we can dance around this."