WAR STORM (Red Queen 4// Alternate Version)

Chapter 18

Mare

My cheek is thrust against the unforgiving marble, offering a view of Maven's boots as he stands up, apathetic in my answer. No, I will not apologize for destroying your air fleet. My jaw clenches, ready to say it aloud, but my teeth are bolted together, pressing so hard they might grind to dust.

"Well. This has been quite the celebration, has it not?" Maven explains to his audience, his voice tinged with victory. The courtiers had better be appalled when some of those Sentinels I electrocuted were their relatives and friends. Though based on the lack of death jeers I get, I must've not killed many important Sentinels. As if reading my mind, "Tomorrow morning, the first item on my agenda will be to arrange a commemorative rite, for those fallen tonight. Unless I am blind, I saw the work of a Whisper at play, and I promise you that I will hunt him down, and present a death monsters are worthy of," he finishes, in a murmur.

Steps approach Maven, the click of fine-tailored shoes. "What of the girl at your feet, Your Majesty? She's killed our brethren, once again," the man says, ending his question with on an angry note.

"As deserving Mare Barrow is of death, I still have use for her." Maven provides the reason to keep me captive in an instance as if he was prepared for this. I haven't a doubt that he's written a speech. "We aren't aware of newblood Whispers and the sheerness of their ability. Surely she'll be happy to enlighten us."

"Will she be... disposed of when we've taken the desired information from her?" The gruff voice asks, a growl following low from within. His suggestions send needles at my organs, and my heart skips a beat, if that's possible while the Telky has ahold of me, never floundering in his smothering.

I push at air that weighs a thousand tons, and as expected, I don't make headway. Yet my finger twitches, and I watch, stunned at the movement, like an infant walking for the first time. Beads of sweat accumulate on my forehead and glissade down, cold and wet. The Silencers circle me, each of them applying pressure dense enough to kill. They won't take any chances, not with what happened last time, even if it means multiplying their abilities tenfold. I'd writhe and scream and curse if I could move.

"I haven't decided, Lord Rhambos. I can only assure you, she'll get what's coming to her." Maven's directing his words at me, not the Silver; he means to say, be good, and he might spare me.

But he knows as well as I that living in manacles is not an act of righteousness, but a condemnation.

Receding feet pad back towards the candled tables, a resignation. "I'm sure you're all weary, from the stress you've beheld. My Sentinels and I shall deal with the prisoner, and I think it's best for retirement to your manors and estates," Maven says, his stance still and certain, his back to me.

Agreement radiates around the room, and not before long, the doors are held ajar by servants to the Crown, and clothing shuffles and shoes hit the same surface my face is pushed against, in movement. Agonizing seconds drift by, and I breathe, in and out, in and out, emboldening myself. Yet, if the Sentinel holding me allowed me to weep, I think I would.

The room empties out, leaving a phantom of grandness in its wake. One can have all the finery and delicacies in the world, but without attendants, the hall absorbs a depressiveness. On the bright side, I didn't destroy it.

Crisp and frosty hands encircle my palms, and a gurgle leaves my throat, not exactly of my own accord. My manacles, colder than ice, clink into their positions, their homes. The Telky has lessened his mental grip, and I could scream if I desired. Alternatively, I chuckle, telling myself this is how I'll leak out the panic. And terrify them. I drive depravity into my laughter, mixed with hysteria. At last, I find my words. "You should double check those locks, Arven." I turn my head so I can meet Egg's eyes- he's as bald as ever, in emotion and hair. "If I keep killing Arvens at this rate, there won't be enough left to continue the bloodline. Not that anyone would want to mate with you, though."