Mare

Control your anger, it's only one letter away from danger

Chapter Music: Betrayal Comes From Friends

The dress is beautiful, although even I can see the age of it. The yellow, once so bright, has faded after years of being locked up in the coastal palace of Ocean Bay. I had been there only once and I had seen so many things from the old reign of Queen Coraine in my short time there. It was clear that was her vault, the last vestige of her to be remembered by. Still, the dress is beautiful. 

Julian should be arriving soon, although he has no idea why he's been summoned. The portraitist paints Evangeline's official portrait on the other side of the room. Before her, Wren sat stiffly in that chair. Posing for her own painting that will be hung in the Hall of the Monarchs, a hallway of all the past rulers and their council. 

Wren smiled in hers, but Evangeline glares at the portraitist. Her uniform glitters bitterly in the light. She's almost done, although the painter captured her in a more severe tone than he did Wren. Probably because she looks terrifying with her uniform that looks like liquid meta clinging to her form. Soon it will be my turn to sit in the chair, unmoving and unbreathing. Sounds so fun.

"Cori?" I turn towards the way the name came, finding Julian. He's wearing the new robes I requested him to wear today. They suit him, but it's strange to see him out of his faded colors. 

When he sees my face he startles, looking as if he's seen a ghost. "I'm sorry, Mare. Its just…that's Coraine's gown and you had your face turned away-- I just thought that… that I was dreaming." I smile towards him. He thought he saw a ghost. 

"I thought of a new tradition," I say, reaching out for his arm, "that the monarch must wear the colors of her Queen's Aid's house to show their support for them."

"And have a portrait made with them?" He eyes the portraitist with Evangeline. "You hate portraits."

"I do. They never show the truth, just lies," Never the cracks that form in our face, or the bruises of fatigue. They only show what we want to be seen, but sometimes to be seen perfect is what your enemies need, "But, I see their usefulness. History will never forget you if you are painted."

"Cori used to say that it would make you immortalised in time forever. She would approve of the dress you chose, it was one of her favorites," he smiles briefly before looking over at Evangeline walking our way, "Will you be getting your official portrait as Queen done in yellow?"

"Of course not," Evangeline answers, "She will change to her official colors and then sit through another one of those tortures." She scoffs, rolling her shoulders back to shake away the stiffness that settled in them.

"Are you happy with how yours turned out?" I ask.

"Well I wouldn't be redoing it if I wasn't, but yes. I'm happy with it. I'll be happy to see it in the hall. Oh, she's ready for the pair of you." Evangeline dips into a curtsy and leaves the room. She was destined to sit in that hall, from the moment she was chosen in Queenstrial only a few years ago. I guess she'll finally get her destiny accomplished, even if it is not as a queen. How funny fate can be.

"Off we go."

The portraits did turn out the way we wanted them. Julian's and mine is my favorite of the two I had to sit through. Evangeline said it best, it was torture. Smiling for so long, holding the same stance the entire time, and I had to sit for two. Nonetheless, my official portrait was neccesary. It will hang in every palace throughout Norta. I smile at the thought of being rememberd. Of my presence being everywhere and nowhere are the same time. 

The ocean can be seen from the Whitefire Palace's gardens, glittering up at me alarmingly. I've always hated water. I used to play in the rivers by my house, but that was only until I realized there was so much of it you could get lost in. What a lonely way to die. 

I keep moving, walking along the paths of the gardens. A few roam about, but they keep their distance from me. Through the figures, I see a woman. She's clad in blue and gold, laying bowed in front of a small pool. I walk closer towards her, but then she sits up. She sits there for a moment more before standing up. Even from behind I realize who it is.

"Princess Iris Cygnet?" She wips around, facing me. By the look on her face, she's been caught off guard. "What are you doing?" 

"I was praying."

"Praying?" I repeat back. The term feels unfamiliar in my mouth, but I've heard it before somewhere. In school we learned about the world before ours, about the gods and saints, about how the people who came before paid tribute to them and asked for a better future. Although, I've never seen anyone pray before.

"I'm aware Norta is a godless country. There wasn't a single temple on my journey to the capital," she says, her voice almost sounds like she pities us. 

"Gods never helped us before," I shrug. 

"Maybe your people will disagree. It might even give them hope. In times like these, sometimes that's all someone needs."

"And does it give your people hope? Think beyond your Silver lords to your Reds. Did their hope stop them from rebelling against you, forming the Scarlet Guard in the name of your deaths. Sometimes hope isn't hope at all, but a blinder to all the evil in your world. I think you're blinded by your gods, Iris."

"Maybe I am," she pauses, looking away from me and back on the water, "but perhaps I'm better for it. Have you ever tried praying before, Mare?"

I remember the many failed attempts I made when I first learned about prayer. I laced my hands together like my teacher had shown us and begged for a better life than the one I'd always known. The reply was always the same, empty silence. Sometimes that silence seemed to swallow me whole and as the days bled on change never came. 

"You're not expecting a response, you know. Just a feeling," Iris says. I glance over at the Lakelander. Feelings can lie. 

"Why do you pray by the water?" I lead us away from the fountain, into another section of the sprawling gardens.

"Water is what binds us. The same water that provides the fish can pull sailors to a watery death. What else could be a truer testament of faith than that?"

"Water can also be controlled. The fish can be guided towards the nets, the boat flipped by a nymph-formed wave. How is it faith if it can be decided for you?"

"You have to hold faith the game has not been played. That your fate is a kind one." 

"I suppose we'll all need a little faith then." I think of Jon. How much of the game has he played? Laying us out on the board, moving us each way. Smart, cursed seer.

"Yes, we will," she says, lifting her chin up a little higher than before.

"But I don't like leaving things up to fate," I pause, glancing over at her, "Have you heard from your father on the terms of our alliance?" I already know the answer, but keeping up appearances never hurt. No letter has arrived for Iris from her father, any mail she has received has been checked and then resealed for her. 

"No. I should hear word soon. He may be delayed. He is making an appearance on the southern border with my family tomorrow, at one of our temples we have there."

"Well I'll keep faith that he agrees to our terms," I say with a wink. Next to me, Iris laughs.

"You're not what I expected, Mare Barrow. No matter how you may try to hide it, there's kindness in you. If you were born in the Lakelands we might have even been friends." The likelihood of that sounded slim. No matter where I was born, I would be born a red. Reds are not friends with silver princesses. Still, I offer a small smile towards her.

"If an alliance is formed between our two countries, the Lakelanders who cross into Norta may need their own places to worship. Perhaps a more permenant stature than a garden fountain can be built for your worships."

"My people would appreciate that." Her eyes sweep the distant outline of the buildings of Archeon, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. I wonder if she imagines her temples standing with them.

"Maybe I'll even visit a temple with you one day." I smile at the Lakelander. She's not what I expected either. 

"Mare, may I have a word?" I turn away from Iris. Wren Skonos stands behind me, her hands tremble ever so slightly.

I nod towards Wren and then turn back to Iris. "Until we see each other again." She dips her head, turning back to walk deeper into the gardens.

"What is it Wren? You looked nervous." We leave the gardens behind us, turning back to walk up into Whitefire. 

"The Scarlet Guard has been stationed in the Piedmont base for quite some time now. I sent in one or two of my spies to stay in the villages surrounding the base and to report back of any word of their movements-"

I stop midstep, grabbing at my wrists.  I squeeze them hard, wincing at the memories that follow the pressure. It's therapeutic to face the memories. I press harder onto the skin, "They've betrayed me haven't they? I knew they would eventually, but I never thought… What have they done?" 

Wren blinks at me in surprise, "Nothing- they-they've had a baby."

"What?" 

"One of our spies reported that at a new supply shipment, they requested for small blankets, a healer, soft food, and absorbant padding." My mind races away and I count the months away on my fingers. Has it really been that long already? 

"Farley," I breathe. A baby. A mother. I'm an aunt. "What do you know about this baby?"

"One of the spies brought the Newblood healer who helped deliver the child to a military base not far off the Piedmont border. The healer said it was a girl." A girl. Shade always said he wanted a girl one day.

"And the name?" I look at Wren, she doesn't hold my gaze. Her eyes are fixed below me, I see her chewing her cheek. I follow her gaze down to my fingers squeezing my wrist. I let go of my wrist, letting it fall to my side, "The name, Wren," I hiss. 

"Clara." Clara. What a beautiful name. It sounds like clarity. Bringing everything into focus. Mom must be so happy, maybe even Dad too. Giz no doubt… 

"Mare, please let go of your wrists." I look up at Julian, him and Wren's eyes darts from me to my hands to each other. He seems to appear from nowhere, already reaching for my hand. 

"I'm fine," I say, again letting go of the hold I didn't realize I was doing, "You sneaked up on us Julian. What's wrong?"

"We have intercepted letters from the Lakelander King and Evangeline has received reports on the Guard. I came to find you both."

"Well you found us, let's go." I go to walk around him, but Julian puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Let Wren fix you up," he says, eyeing my wrist.

"I'm fine," I say.

"Mare-"

"I'm fine, Julian," I hiss, "We have reports to read." Julian falls silent, falling in line behind me. Wren and him stay quiet all the way back to the war rooms.

Evangeline stands over strewed papers. She's changed out of her portrait uniform from earlier, instead opting for a suit of spikes and diamonds.

"The report?" I say, she glances over at us before sliding a paper across the table at me. It's not a report at all, but a letter addressed to Iris and written by her father. I scan the page for his decision, eyes hunting for the words that will signify Norta's future. 

"He's denied the alliance and has summoned Iris to leave immediatly, without informing us of her leave."

"I think the term you're looking for is escape." I say, throwing the letter down to the table. Rage eats at me. It's all I can do to keep the skies calm outside the palace walls. You cannot allow this.

"He wants to make sure his daughter isn't kept hostage for his decision. He's afraid," Wren says, scanning the paper next to me. 

"He should be." 

"Mare-" Julian says. I hardly hear him.

"You said there were reports of the Guard too?" I ask. Evangeline nods.

"They have taken over the entire country of Piedmont in a weeks time. Before, they held half the country for months. Now, they seem keen on expanding their territory." 

"They share borders with the Lakelands now. How fitting." I'll never forget how Farley is Lakelander born. That the Guard originated there too. I used it as proof for myself to show how quickly change can spread like a disease. How easy it can be to change everything. It only takes a spark to ignite a storm, it seems Maven was right. Again.

"And now us." Wren runs her fingers over a map, across the borders that now tie us so closely with the Guard.

"We can presume an attack may be their goal. We should attack first. Hit them when they least expect it." It's smart, it's efficient, but I feel my heart tremble all the same. You're Weak. Maven would do it, yet you hesitate. Weak… weak… weak.

"Unless we let someone else bloody their hands," I murmur. Evangeline raises her brow at me, "Like you both said. The Guard now shares a border with us and the Lakelands."

"So we just hope the Lakelanders choose to start a war on the Guard?" Wren asks.

"I don't like leaving things up to fate." My eyes lock with the ever quiet Julian as I echo the words I said to Iris only a short time before. He's suppose to guide you to make the right choice, yet he stays silent. Failure… failure…. failure.

"We have the Scarlet Guard poke the sleeping bear. Invoke something that the Lakelander royals cannot ignore, no matter what it could cost them. Something that will send them running back towards us and our military support"

"Do you have something in mind?" 

I turn towards Julian, "The Hundred
Year War, do you remember what you said to me caused the Lakelanders to enact it. Before it became a rouse?" You have to speak now.

Julian nods solemnly, "We killed their royals at the Choke. A stray bomb. Their youngest daughter survived and became queen because she wasn't at the Choke, she was kept at the palace for security of the crown."

"If I'm following you, you're proposing we kill the Lakelander royalty?"

"Not all of them. Like Julian said, one lived and her rage fueled a war." 

"You cannot do this, Mare." I turn to Julian. His face looks sickly white. For a moment I wonder if he's using his singer abilities. No. He would never do that to me. Not everyone would betray you.

"It's the only thing I can do."

"You're going to enact a war on innocents."

"If you believe the Lakelander's Silvers are innocents I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Mare, do you truly think this war will be any different? That they will send silvers to fight? They will hide behind red bodies until their dying breath. When you're done the Lakelanders will turn their fire towards the Scarlet Guard. Would you risk their lives like that?" No, it's different this time. You just don't see it yet.

"If death is the cost of freedom then we should be willing to pay it."

"And would you pay it?"

I ignore Julian turning to Evangeline, "You have my permission to paint the sky red and the streets silver. Take our planes and paint them with the Guard's emblem. They'll blame the Guard when the sky falls down upon them."

"We need to act when we have the royal family together. Wren we need to know when that will be," Evangeline says.

"That won't be necessary," I say, "The royals will be together. They are visiting a southern temple tomorrow. Iris told me herself." She trusted you. I hear her voice in my ear, Your heart is not good. Not anymore. You have snuffed all the goodness out.

"Would you pay it?" Julian asks again, turning me to face him.

"I already have!" I screech, "I have died countless of times for this chance at freedom. I have lost everything and gained everything at the same time. I sacrificed everything for them once! They repaid me back with betrayal. Leaving me to rot with a wicked King.

I have been dead for so long that I don't know who I am anymore. But I do know this, if war is how the Lakelanders would prefer their liberation then I shall give them war." I feel the lightning crack over my skin as I puff out hot air. He steps away, turning towards the doors to leave me alone at the war table. I feel Wren and Evangeline's eyes on my back. Even with them here I feel alone, floating in an empty sea. Adrift.

Something swelled in Julian's eyes at my words. I didn't recognize it at first. Didn't recognize it til several hours later as I laid my crown aside and drifted off into a restless sleep.

Grief. It had been grief.