Mare

You ruined me. Now, you'll watch as I set your world on fire.

Chapter Music: Pawns

"Fire." The web of lightning shoots out from my fingertips, encompassing the wooden figure before blackening its surface. Another bolt hits the next target, some feet away from the first. The floor of the training facility has been scarred with the shape of splintering bolts of lightning, a side effect of my training. Julian had warned me it would take time to regain the control I had on my ability, and after nearly six months of training I've finally remastered it.

"Mare," Julian says. I turn to look at my closest advisor. Since the manacles, Julian has found his strength again, looking better with each passing day, "Focus, you can do better than that."

I stare at the next target. I imagine one of my bolts compressing and expanding. Being pulled apart until it is nothing but a wave of electricity. When I push it out, it replicates the image in my head and the wood splinters apart.

"Iris Cygnet will be arriving today. Are you nervous?" Julian asks, nodding his head in approval from my web lightning, an experimental technique he's been training me in.

I heave a sigh, we've been training for nearly three hours already and I've begun to stink terribly. "I'd be less nervous if Samson would hurry up with my orders." It's been a month since I issued the decree that all working members of Silver Houses were to be paid for their work.

"We knew from the start Samson would do anything to shake your grip on the throne. By not listening to your orders, he's trying to show the court that they don't have to follow you."

"I'm done being a pawn in his little game. Order him to the throne room after Iris arrives. It's time House Marandus begins to act like a subject to the crown again."

Julian laughs lightly before looking at me again, "Bossy." I smile wide as I throw a weak fist at his shoulder. "Careful, you might break my frail bones," he teases, rubbing his arm with a pout.

"They can't be too frail if you still haven't called in for a chair to cart you around," I turn away with the roll of an eye and go to walk out of the arena to clean up. "The throne room in an hour to welcome the princess," I remind. I can't help but snort— another order.

My court clothes have become far more comfortable- and practical- since the coup six months ago. Black leggings, heeled boots, and a body piece that reaches my mid-calf. It has slits in between my legs in case I need to move quickly, and the shoulders are horn-rimmed to add build and shape to my frame. A purple cape sits on my right shoulder, falling to my ankles in alternating layers of fabric. As always at meetings, a crown sits on my head. This time fashioned into a band that lays across my forehead. Minimalistic regality, Evangeline had said when she had made it for me. Whatever the hell that means.

As I have changed, the throne room has too. The red banners have been torn down. All replaced with purple. It was an obvious color choice for the Royal House of Barrow. It had been my colors as the lightning girl, and it was also carefully neutral. Not red like the House of Calore or the Scarlet Guard. Both of my past groups had donned the color red, although it meant two very different things. Red was a color of declaration for me, tying me to one group or the other. Purple made its own call, a declaration to myself, and the lightning that flows through me.

The flame sigils of the Calore's have disappeared. Replaced again by me. My sigil, a jagged lightning bolt encircled carefully in a thin line, sits where the flames used to be. Even the marble flooring was pulled up in order to make way for the new patterns of lightning. In time, the flame sigil will be forgotten and the lightning will live on. It won't be in my lifetime, not with how fresh the wounds of this revolution are. But maybe in the ones that come long after.

My pearl ring clunks loudly as it hits the stone of the throne. My council stands scattered around me, chatting softly as they wait for the Cygnet brat. Since I brought Wren, Evangeline, and Julian into my council, two more have followed. A new blood lieutenant, that works under Evangeline's command, but serves to help with the training of the new blood legions. They've grown too, nearly doubling in size since I came to the throne. And the other, a trusted spy.

I hear the door, that leads to the Queen's office, from behind my throne open quietly. I don't need to look to know who it is. The footfalls are easy to decipher as Julians'. His court clothes, all a soft yellow, flow behind him as he takes his spot next to me. "She's here." That's all it takes for the council to quiet down and take their positions.

I've never seen Iris Cygnet before, but she was due to appear at my wedding with Maven. Her visit was canceled once the news of the coup broke out, and now that the dust has settled I presume the only reason why the Lakelands accepted our invitation was that they wanted to size up their new opponent. I won't miss the opportunity to do the same.

I know little of their country, at least only as much as Julian has told me. Norta has been on locked swords with them for centuries, a decoy war. Neither makes any advances on the war front because the two countries have a careful agreement. Keep the war going, and keep the red population in check. I feel the blood of the soldiers on my hands, reminding me of all I have left to do.

The invitation was addressed for talks of peace. Though, I doubt they want to find a resolution to the war. They wouldn't be sending their heir spare to discuss the future of their country. One thing I do know is that it is ruled as Norta once was. Silvers on top, crushing the reds on the ground. My first impression of the Lakelands isn't starting off well.

The doors at the end of the hall open, pulling me out of my brooding. My sentinels escort the small party of Lakelander guards and members of presumably Iris' household into the throne room. From there, they press forward. Leading the pack is a tall, slender figure. Her warm skin in stark contrast with the grey of the palace. Her dress is a sea of blues and greens, and a large gold band lays on her upper arm. Loose, black hair is pulled into large braids, and a golden crown marks her of her rank. Iris Cygnet. I let my features slip into stone, just as I have seen Maven do countless times over. I am unmoving when the two of us lock eyes.

When the party nears us, my guards stop them. Evangeline takes a step up, letting them look over her before speaking. "You are in the presence of Queen Mare Barrow. First of her name, Breaker of the Blood Laws, the Lightning Girl, and the Last Electricon." Stiffly, the Lakelander party dips into bows.

"Mare Barrow," Iris says. Her voice is smooth, but rings of the familiarity of royalty. She dips her head, but her back remains unbroken as her eyes flick around the room. Her meeting marks the first Cygnet royal to be in Norta in more than a few centuries. I suspect there's a lot to look at with the number of banners that hang in the hall. The Cygnet royal speaks again, her eyes now firmly back on me, "Thank you for inviting the Royal House of Cygnet to Norta. In my father's stead he has sent me to negotiate and come to an agreement on the Great War if there is one to be found."

"Iris, thank you for traveling to the heart of Norta in order to negotiate terms on an alliance," I don't miss the twitch of her lips as I remind her just how far away she is from home, "From the journey, you must be exhausted. We have set up your rooms, our guards will escort you to them."

"I thought we were here to negotiate, not rest."

"There will be plenty of time for negotiation." The doors at the end of the hall open and a guard escorts a man inside. Samson. I catch Julian's eyes, he looks just as confused.

"Lord Marandus you were told to wait until after we welcomed our Lakelander guests." Iris steps away from him sharply as he looks at her.

She whips towards me, voice turning to ice, "You have whispers in your court?"

Samson laughs, "What do you think?"

"My father banished them from the court. They were too dangerous to have so close to the head of the crown. You shouldn't have them near you as well. I know of the rumors that the Whisper Queen had controlled the King's mind." My eyes flick to Samson. His flick back and forth to my face and Iris'. No matter how strong of a mask, a Whisper can always slip through. He could be reading my thoughts right now without me even knowing, he's done it before.

I avert my eyes from her, unwilling to yield a response. "For you to interrupt a meeting such as this, I assume it was because you felt the need to tell your queen there will be no further problems with the payment of your servants."

"You are not my queen and I will not pay the rats."

"If I'm not your queen then why do I sit in the throne and wear a crown. Why did I have a coronation? Did I not kill King Maven?"

"Because you're a Red, a Scarlet Guard spy, an exiled prince's toy, a lie." Like a switch, my lightning turns on. He twitches under the strength of the lightning that is rattling between the nerves in his brain. It feels good to make him twitch in pain after the pain he caused me in turn. Iris stares at him questioningly, not sure what's causing his breaths to seize. Lightning is a curious thing I've come to learn. The shock can spread anywhere, even the brain. I can see it in his eyes, he knows what I'm doing now. When I release my hold, he gasps as if he's just come up for air.

"You will pay your household double what is required by the law for a month to make up for the time they were not paid." He tries to interrupt, although he's clumsy from the headache I've given him. I shush him like a child. "Remember Samson, change is like a rot. Once it spreads, it consumes. As our Lakelander friend has just told us, they don't even let whispers into their courts anymore. You're dismissed." Anger shadows his features, but he leaves reluctantly regardless.

"Iris, please follow our guards to your rooms. We will have dinner shortly." She nods before turning to follow one of the sentinels to their quarters. When the door closes behind them, I turn towards my council. "Wren, I need you and your spies to watch House Marandus. Let's make sure they are not planning their own coup. If you hear even a whisper of betrayal, I will kill them all."

"Mare-"

"Julian you will do well to remember I have a kingdom to keep in check along with a court. We are not in open rebellion with the Guard yet, but the time will come when they try something and they have declared themself against me."

"That is fair, Mare. But to punish the children of the House Marandus for their parent's sins is not."

"Then let's hope Wren does not find rebellion within the House of Marandus." Evangeline smiles in approval, and I turn away from them all before I can look at anyone else's reactions to the command. I walk away from my council, out one of the side exits.

I turn away from the main halls, instead opting for one of the passageways that are barely used. The walk down the stone steps is a quiet one. There are lamps lighting the way down the spiraling steps. It's an old passage, and because of its unuse dust has stuck heavily to the stone. The steps are brushed clean with my footprints from previous trips down to the dungeons. It's a routine I've picked up.

I used to think I couldn't wait to see the end of Maven, but I learned much from him when I was his queen in waiting. I'm starting to learn more from him now that he is my prisoner. At least, I've convinced myself that is the only reason I visit.

As the stairs come to a level, I walk further into the darkness. There's less light down here, and to keep on track I let my fingers trail along the walls. I feel the dirt they pick up, and every few minutes I wipe the filth away. I can sense the stone even from here. It was a special tomb that was designed by him. Ironic that he is now the one it contains. I don't know who the intended user was, I don't want to ask.

I stop in front of the cell and place my hand on the torch. It only takes a few sparks for the fire to ignite. Maven sits in the corner, on a cushioned chair I had brought down to him weeks ago. His legs are sprawled out and his hair has grown to where the curls have started brushing his temples. He looks something like a ghost of himself, as he stares at the wall. I imagine myself there where he sits. When I was the prisoner of the stone.

"The worst part is the silence, isn't it?" I say. Maven turns to look at me and laughs softly.

"How ironic we now share this experience as well."

"I have a question, Maven."

"Do ask," He says through a loud yawn. I roll my eyes at the dramatics.

"How did you control it?" My hands fidget in response to the question. If anyone knew how to handle it, Maven would. He's been balancing power since before I even knew him.

"I didn't." He stares at me through his bars. I stare back through my own, the invisible prison I've made for myself.

"There was a prophecy that was once told to me by Jon. He showed me visions of death and blood. He warned me that all of this must come to pass before the world is a good one again. Just today I ordered the death of a house if they betray me."

"You can't trust the seer. Jon is the master of our fates. He pulls us this way and that. Setting us up in the way to bring about the outcome he wants to see occur. It makes perfect sense now why he told me where I could find you that night when I brought your jet down." Maven fumbles with his finger. Like me, he doesn't like to be made a fool of.

"You know what outcome he wanted, not why. I have that piece of the puzzle."

"And like me, he has only given you the piece he wants you to have." I pause at the comment. Jon had done it before. When I was with the guard, he told me I'd get Julian out of Corros. He never told me the price. I learned that my brother would have to die to make it happen all on my own.

"I wonder if he gave you any other puzzle pieces?" I ask. Maven smiles.

"He told me I'd have you. He made me that promise. For a moment I did." His eyes hover on me, raking their way across my face.

"Is that all he told you?"

"It's a sliver of what he promised me." The threat is woven in the words tightly. I feel it looming in the air like a cloud.

"Goodbye, Maven."

"You've stopped wearing that red cloth in your hair."

"Is that a question?" I look back at him.

"No."

"Then what a good observation."