WAR STORM (Red Queen 4// Alternate Version)

Chapter 36

Evangeline

I hold back a scoff and a sigh as our transport crests over a hill, only to reveal a small town-if one can call it that much-on the Capital River. To think, that a hundred miles south, lies Archeon, a city of glass and dynasties. Here, they work to survive, and nothing more. The river banks are decorated with trash, while on the outskirts of Archeon, low-life Nymphs work to make certain not a speck of dirt enters the city.

The Stilts, the locals call it. I know far less about it than I should, but enough to understand that it's a detour worth another hundred miles. In the spring, newly melted waters flood half the town, hence the ten-foot stilts that assault my eyes everywhere I glance. And home of Mare Barrow, obviously.

What a wonderful place to live.

At least the less savory aspects of the city are hidden by the fresh snow, including the mud that would undoubtedly line every path if it were summer. And there must be a terrible stench too, between the rotting garbage and sweaty workers.

"Maybe it'll be good for the princess of steel to be exposed to this hole of a city," Maven muses, crossing his shackled legs best as he can. "Gods, you're a decent liar when you wish to be, Evangeline. But I see disgust written all over your face."

I merely roll my eyes and choose to not react to Cal's brother. Spending hours sitting next to the Burner in this barred transport is even more hellish than I imagined it to be. Still, it was I who decided it would be a fun and clever method of passing the days we've spent on the road and the days we'll continue to spend. I was incorrect. It's hard, much more difficult to cut at him compared to Cal.

If I have hurt Maven, he hasn't given the slightest sign of heartache. All smiles and nonsensical laughter from him. He's quiet most of the time... but when he opens his mouth...

"The odds of me dying are far higher than me ending up in a place of these likes, darling. It's simply that this place is of no use to me."

"True," he agrees, rolling his neck out. The same shadows haunt the hollows of his face "Though never discount that small odd, darling."

"Whatever you say, Maven," I merely respond before turning my focus to the tinted window again.

Plumes of smoke exit dweller's chimneys and small children look in wonder towards our transports before scampering away to the ditches they came from. There was hardly a notice to any of the towns we've passed through, a few hours at most. The entire continent has heard of Cal's victory and extempore coronation at the Choke, but none heard of Anabel's touring proposal before she mouthed it the morning after battle.

The slow march down the Iron Road resurrects memories of Maven's parading back to the capital all too well. Last time it was in celebration for the end of the War, and this time it's for Cal. There is no difference in my eyes.

Ten transports, clad in Cal's seal, progress ahead of us, and the same goes for behind. Most soldiers that fought at the Choke aren't here, either restationed to serve Cal's new order, or else buried in an unmarked, shallow mass grave. Most of the Scarlet Guard and Montfort troops have already departed for Archeon, where they'll stay as the King's dutifull helpers until the tides have settled. Somewhere ahead, Cal and his grandmother sit in a cushioned and bomb-proofed transport.

After a while, the transport stops on the main road into the city, and when it doesn't restart, I growl and push open the door. Cold air of late afternoon bites at my skin, but I resist the urge to cross my arms together.

I wasn't wrong. The stench is devasting to my nostrils, even with the snow weighing it down. But somewhere, perhaps coming from the market stalls a couple blocks away, I smell other scents. Chocolate, different types of meat...

For Elane, maybe I could find a gift to return to her with. That thought by itself, however, sends chills through my spine. She's married to my brother. She's far, far separated from me.

Soon enough, I'll be married to Cal. I spot him further towards into the city, spine slouched against his transport, a sword at his hip and a Sentinel at either shoulder. His gaze is fixed intently on something-someone.

A row of cycles lines the side of the street that transports don't occupy and more run off into the snowy grass. We're hardly inside of the Stilts, and in this area an occasional shack of sorts is placed alongside the road, but for the most part, it's barren. The real action starts further off the main road, where clusters of this dirt's denizens hurry about, spending their copper carefully on the unsanitary food the merchants sell.

Mare stands with Tyton near the bikes, who holds a helmet between his arm and side. Snow descends gracefully into her hair, and a slight cherry blush has made its way into both her and Tyton's cheeks. That alone is a reminder of what they are-and what Cal will never be.

I was surprised that she and Tyton didn't leave immediately after the battle, but I'd assume when Anabel listed of the towns we'd visit, the name "Albanus" struck a nerve with her. He himself must be leaving for the capital tonight along with another slew of Scarlet Guard troops.

Approaching Cal, I jerk my chin to his Sentinel's, a notion for them to leave. They take the hint, abandoning their king and a woman clad in knives. Fools.

From this angle, the boy has positioned himself slyly. He can watch them just perfectly, while they're unaware of his stalking. "Creeping much?" I ask.

"Call it what you want," he responds so quickly I imagine he had that defense planned in his mind.

"I won't waste your time, Cal. I do envision that Anabel has a thousand activities lined up for you before day's end. Still, I must ask: Are you having fun yet?"

His breath comes out in clouds, like the chimneys of the affluent Reds, fire in their stomachs. "If I am not having fun, it doesn't matter. Things are too twisted. Still, I must ask," he repeats, "will you ever stop harassing me?"

"When we're old and grey, and more bitter about this world than we are now, I'll still remind you of her," I bite the words out, the syllables feeling redundant. I've made the threat so many times, but each time it hurts him as much as a deep stab of my blade would put him in. "A lifetime of knowing you could've chosen differently. Make sure Maven doesn't escape his cage, Cal. I left him unguarded," I add, walking away.

A line of guards barricades the transports from the Stilts, but I push between two of the men with ease. Upon further inspection, a new level of repugnance arises.