Jason Grace: After the Burning Maze

Framed

Through the darkness, I could hear Scarlett tapping her foot impatiently and drumming her fingernails against the armrest of her chair. I'd noticed that this seemed to be her preferred method of calming herself during nervous situations.

After I'd confronted her about lying, she reluctantly got in the boat. We'd traveled down the Acheron in silence, me trying to avoid her angry stares, her throwing them at me. After we docked, Charon pointed out the River Lethe to us. Drinking from it would remove our memories forever and the offer was open any time.

Now we were sitting in a pitch black room on cold, hard chairs. The judgment chamber was to my right and I had no idea when either of us would enter. Per usual, I had no idea how much time had or would continue to pass before we were able to leave.

"You know, my mother used to always say that the cruelest darkness is silence." Scarlett finally announced. Much to her annoyance, I was so shocked I had to make her repeat it.

"Oh, yeah. That's smart." I nodded in the dark and went back to my thoughts. It was silent for another while.

"What the hell, Grace?" she demanded, stomping her foot on the bedrock like the little Princess she was. "You learn that I willingly stayed in the waiting room for 500 years because I'm scared of something and you don't even both to ask what?"

"I knew if I asked you'd either lie or refuse to tell me so I'm waiting for you to explain." I could feel other spirits turning their attention towards us, mumbling and pointing broke out through the darkness.

She scoffed, "I wanted you to ask me so I wouldn't look stupid exposing myself."

"How was I supposed to know what you wanted if you didn't tell me?"

"I don't know, guess? Are you not curious?"

"How would I guess? I don't even know you."

"You've been by my side for a whole month!"

"This isn't about you Scarlett. I have my own world to focus on. Gods, what a spoiled little brat." I threw my arms up in the arm, "The universe doesn't revolve around you!"

"FINE! DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?" she shrieked at me, voice cracking in the process and breaking down into tears. That's when I knew I'd gone too far, so far that even I surprised myself. I'd never shot direct insults at someone, attacked them personally, or shouted at the top of my lungs. Not at the Senate, not at Octavian (clap, please), and not even at the gods. I could feel the negativity and bitterness of the underworld rubbing off on me. And I didn't like it at all.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, wanting to comfort her but scared she'd flick me off again. "Can we start this over?"

She sniffled a bit, "Okay." We sat in silence.

"What were you scared of?"

Scarlett took a shaky breath. "I died because my people thought I killed my uncle. What they don't know, is that I was framed. I actually tried my best to save him. My mother is the real culprit."

I was so shocked I didn't know how to respond. To learn that someone was executed is terrible, to learn that their own mother sent them to the block is even worse. Oddly enough, I felt bad for the bitterness I held against Beryl.

"How did it play out?"

"It's a very cliche Princess tale. My uncle was co-commanders with my father in battle, he died and my uncle survived. It's not easy being a widowed Queen, my mother got paranoid and thought my uncle had his eyes on her throne. She planned for him to replace me on a diplomatic mission to a town with antagonistic villagers. They had been expecting me and assumed he was a fraud trying to impersonate my dead father. In a fit of anger, the chief ordered him to be bound up and burned at the stake. My mother needed a scapegoat and it was my word against her's. She quickly convinced the council that I gave him the mission because I was scared of the villagers myself and ended up indirectly killing him."