WAR STORM (Red Queen 4// Alternate Version)

Chapter 43

Iris

When Cal enters the throne room, slowing from a sprint, his hair is bedraggled and the shirt collar and lapels he wears are folded at the wrong angles. Sentinels nip at his heels, their guards higher than ever.

Anabel meets her grandson halfway into the massive chambers, her eyes a mixture of relief and anger. She catches him in a tight embrace, and by the look of Cal's expression, I'd say she knocked the wind out of him. "Where have you been, my boy?" Her hands run over his cheeks, through his ink hair, straightening the tendrils the best she can.

"I'm so sorry," he looks at all of us, and his eyes connect with mine for a moment. "I was in Julian's private study last night, reading through an ancient text of his. Time got away from me, and I fell asleep. It wasn't my intention-"

"You mean to tell me that I was nearly executed because you were tired?" Maven interrupts, twisting around to face Cal from his position kneeling on the floor.

"Return the boy to his chambers," Anabel exhales, motioning to Maven, who stares at his brother, wide-eyed.

The younger one shakes his head and mutters something incoherent as the Sentinels grab him. I was surprised to learn that Maven was invited to the wedding. Though it wasn't an invitation, but rather a mandate. It'll be another good show of power on Cal's part, when the Silvers once again see the fallen Calore seated with his enemies, celebrating his brother's happiness.

As the gaping doors to the outside hallways close, Anabel half-heartedly smacks Cal in the chest, the most violence she can invoke. "Hours. That's how long you have until you're to wed Evangeline. We had double that last night, but the entire palace has been going mad looking for you. Unfortunately, I must say that Maven's right this time." Something changes in the way Anabel holds herself. "We have a lot of catchup work to do. You may be king, but I am your grandmother. So you'll listen to me when I say this: get your ass out the door and do what the servants tell you to do."

Volo is silver in the face, brimming with unchecked anger. "That's all you're going to say to my future son-in-law?"

With terrifying, perfect posture, Anabel adjusts the folds of her dress, still the yellow one from last night. She's been more engrossed than any of us. "I'm sure the shame Cal feels for neglecting his duties is enough punishment. Besides, if you'd like to give him a beating, do it after the wedding."

Volo eyes Anabel like a scrap of annoying dust on his jacket. "I thought nobody could get into that room. Julian Jacos is the only soul who holds a key. Are you sure that's where you were, son?"

Slowly, as if Cal's afraid of vexing the King of Rift further, he pulls a piece of metal from his shirt pocket, dulling gleaming in the sunlight. "Your daughter was kind enough to make a copy. If my uncle was more than book smart, he would've considered lining the lock with Silent Stone."

I narrow my eyelids. Unlike Cal to depreciate Julian, when I've only listened to him admire his uncle ever so fondly.

But his response satisfies Volo, and Cal's shoulders sag in relief. Later, perhaps at the reception, I'll inquire after him. For now, a hundred maids and Sentinels choke Cal from my sight in a flurry of movement, and plenty of others stand off to the sidelines, wiping their brows of stress. Nobody is very anxious to ask questions or doubt Cal's explanation, though I know Cal well enough to understand that's not what happened.

At the reception, I promise myself.

From somewhere in the room, Anabel yells at us to get back to work.