His Red Queen

Chapter Nine

Maven opens the door to our room. I walk in first, scanning the area. There is a salon first, with plush couches and a small table. Paintings line the walls—all from before either of us were born, from the look of them. The windows are opened, revealing the ocean. Looking out of one of them, I remember how afraid of the water Maven is.

"You thought it was a good idea to be right here on the water?" I can't contain my laugh as I ask the question.

Maven shrugs. "It's not like we're going to go for a swim."

"Too bad," I say, looking down at my bracelets. Once I find a way to get them off, I can break out of here. My plan seems almost too easy, so I push it into the back of my brain so I can use it at a more opportune time.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but come look at the rest." Maven opens a large oak door at the back of the room to reveal our bedroom.

A large bed is against the opposite wall, full of pillows. The deep blue drapes are closed and the only light is that of a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The rest of the room is pretty plain, save for the cyan and black wallpaper's swirling, vine-like patterns.

"Do you like it?" Maven asks as he sprawls on the bed.

I shrug in response.

An uncomfortable stretch of silence hangs in the air for too long that I'd like to admit. I look to the ground, trying to avoid Maven's gaze.

"You look beautiful tonight," he tells me and I cringe at his abrupt comment.

"Thank you," is all I say.

He pats the place on the bed beside him. "Come, sit with me."

I sit down next to him on the edge of the bed, reluctant as my fingers entwine with his. He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it.

I try not to blush, angry at my traitorous heart. Angry at Maven for making me be here with him. And most importantly, angry at Maven because no matter how much I deny it, a piece of me, albeit small, still cares for him.

We meet each other's eyes for a moment and his expression softens. "I love you, Mare."

He takes my face in his hands, kissing me before I have the chance to respond.

Maven kisses me as if I am the very air that he breathes. As if he will die if his lips leave mine. Once, again, he holds onto me like a lifeline. And I let him. Overcome with emotion, I hold onto him, too, my arms around his neck. His black curls at the nape of his neck tickle my wrists and my bracelets clang against one another.

He shifts so that we're laying next to one another and we catch our breath for a quick second. I trail a finger along his face, his cheekbones sharper than before. His thumb grazes my lip and he looks at me, eyes glossy as if he might cry.

No one is here to influence my decision. No one in my head, twisting my thoughts around. Everything feel and want to do is my own idea and that scares me more than if a whisper or singer were telling me what to do and what I want.

"Maven," I say, my voice shaky.

He pulls me closer and I feel his heartbeat against my own chest. "Do you still love me?" Maven whispers.

I bite my lip, not wanting to answer him. After everything he's done, I should not be here.

He kisses me slowly, while my mind is spinning, trying to come up with an answer that won't get me killed or make him feel any better about himself.

"Tell me," he says not unkindly.

"No," I smirk.

"No, you don't love me?" Maven looks hurt. Good. "Or no, you refuse to answer?"

I kiss him to shut him up, giving him his answer. He smiles against my face and laughs gently before kissing me again, this time more fervent. I match his enthusiasm.

Our kisses become deeper and he fiddles with the back of my dress. In response, I yank on his shirt, pulling him closer to me. He pulls his shirt off, throwing it on the floor.

A knock on the door startles me and I jump, pulling away from him.

A white flush paints Maven's cheeks. "One second!" he shouts, annoyed. He quickly throws his shirt back on and I zip the back of my dress up.

Another knock and this time, I respond, "Give us a minute." I try not to look so flustered but I can't help it.

Maven opens the door, his hair a mess and shirt wrinkled. 

A red servant stands nervously, nearly shaking in his king and queen's presence. I feel terrible that he is so afraid of us. But I guess that I am not just another Red.

"What's going on? Why couldn't you leave me and my wife alone?" Maven grumbles.

"Pardon me, my king," he says, then bows. "My queen." He fiddles with his hands for a second and Maven huffs in frustration. 

"Well, go on," Maven says, "Tell me what is so important that you had to disturb us."

The servant looks as if he has seen a ghost. "There's been an attack. The traitor and his minions have infiltrated Whitefire."

Author's Note:

Hey everyone! I'm just curious to know if any of you have read The Folk of the Air Series (Cruel Prince). I'm thinking of writing a fanfic for that series when I am done with this Red Queen one. I'd love to know if anyone's interested in that.

And I can't believe that I'm almost at 300 reads already! Thank you guys for reading this. It means so much to me!