Red Queen: Chapter 11
King’s Cage (Red Queen Book 3)
The crowd toasts at the end of the feast, their glasses raised to the royal table. On they go, lords and ladies in a rainbow of color trying to wiggle their way into favor. Iâll have to learn them all soon, matching color to house and house to people. Maven whispers their names to me in turn, even though I wonât remember them tomorrow. At first itâs annoying, but soon I find myself leaning in to hear the names.
Lord Samos is the last to stand, and when he does, a hush falls. This man commands respect, even among titans. Though his black robes are plain, trimmed with simple silk, and he has no great jewels or badges to speak of, he has the undeniable air of power. I donât need Maven to tell me heâs the highest of the High Houses, a person to be feared above all others.
âVolo Samos,â Maven murmurs. âHead of House Samos. He owns and operates the iron mines. Every gun in the war comes from his land.â
So heâs not just a noble. His importance comes from more than just titles.
Voloâs toast is short and to the point. âTo my daughter,â he rumbles, his voice low, steady, and strong. âThe future queen.â
âTo Evangeline!â Ptolemus shouts, jumping to his feet next to his father. His eyes blaze around the room, daring someone to oppose them. A few lords and ladies look annoyed, angry even, but they raise their cups with the rest, saluting the new princess. Their glasses reflect the light, each one a tiny star in the hand of a god.
When he finishes, Queen Elara and King Tiberias rise, both of them smiling at their many guests. Cal gets up as well, then Evangeline, then Maven, and after one dumb moment, I join them. The many houses do the same at their tables, and the scraping of chairs on marble sounds like nails on a stone. Thankfully, the king and queen simply bow and walk down the short set of steps leading away from our high table. Itâs over. Iâve made it through my first night.
Cal takes Evangelineâs hand and leads her after them, with Maven and me bringing up the rear. When Maven takes my hand, his skin is shockingly cold.
The Silvers press in on both sides, watching us pass in heavy silence. Their faces are curious, cunning, cruelâand behind every false smile is a reminder; they are watching. Every eye scraping over me, looking for cracks and imperfections, makes me squirm, but I cannot break.
I cannot slip. Not now, not ever. Iâm one of them. Iâm special. Iâm an accident. Iâm a lie. And my life depends on maintaining the illusion.
Maven tightens his fingers in mine, willing me onward. âItâs almost over,â he whispers as we near the far end of the hall. âAlmost there.â
The feeling of being smothered passes as we leave the feast behind, but the cameras follow us with heavy, electric eyes. The more I think about it, the stronger their gaze becomes, until I can sense where the cameras are before I see them. Maybe this is a side effect of my âcondition.â Maybe Iâve just never been surrounded by this much electricity before, and this is how everyone feels. Or maybe Iâm just a freak.
Back in the passageway, a group of Sentinels waits to escort us upstairs. But then, what threats could there possibly be to these people? Cal, Maven, and King Tiberias can control fire. Elara can control minds. What could they fear?
We will rise, Red as the dawn. Farleyâs voice, my brotherâs words, the creed of the Scarlet Guard, comes back to me. They attacked the capital already; this could even be their next target. I could be a target. Farley could hold me up in another hijacked broadcast, revealing me to the world in an attempt to undermine the Silvers. âLook at their lies, look at this lie,â she would say, pushing my face into the camera, bleeding me red for all the world to see.
Crazier and crazier thoughts come to mind, each one more frightening and outlandish than the last. This place is making me insane after just one day.
âThat went well,â Elara says, snatching her hand away from the king when we reach the residence floors. He doesnât seem to mind in the least. âTake the girls to their rooms.â
She doesnât direct her command at anyone in particular, but four Sentinels break off from the group. Their eyes glitter behind their black masks.
âI can do it,â Cal and Maven say in unison. They glance at each other, startled.
Elara raises one perfect eyebrow. âThat would be inappropriate.â
âIâll escort Mareena, Mavey can take Evangeline,â Cal offers quickly, and Maven purses his lips at the nickname. Mavey. Probably what Cal called him as a boy and now itâs stuck, the emblem of a younger brother, always in shadow, always second.
The king shrugs. âLet them, Elara. The girls need a good night of sleep, and Sentinels would give any lady bad dreams.â He chuckles, tossing a playful nod at the guards. They donât respond, silent as stone. I donât know if theyâre allowed to talk at all.
After a moment of tense silence, the queen turns on her heel. âVery well.â Like any wife, she hates her husband for challenging her, and like any queen, she hates the power the king holds over her. A bad combination.
âTo bed,â the king says, his voice a bit more forceful and authoritative. The Sentinels stay with him, following when he goes the opposite way from his wife. I guess they donât sleep in the same room, but thatâs not much of a shock.
âMy room is where, exactly?â Evangeline asks, glaring at Maven. The blushing queen-to-be is gone, replaced by the sharp she-devil I recognize.
He gulps at the sight of her. âUh, this way, missâmaâamâmy lady.â He holds out an arm to her, but she breezes right by him. âGood night, Cal, Mareena,â Maven sighs, making a point of looking at me.
I can only nod at the retreating prince. My betrothed. The thought makes me want to be sick. Even though he seemed polite, nice even, heâs Silver. And heâs Elaraâs son, which might be even worse. His smiles and kind words cannot hide that from me. Calâs just as bad, raised to rule, to perpetuate this world of division even further.
He watches Evangeline disappear, his eyes lingering on her retreating form in a way that makes me strangely annoyed.
âYou picked a real winner,â I mutter once sheâs out of earshot.
Calâs smile dies with a downward twitch, and he starts walking toward my room, ascending the sloping spiral. My little legs fight to keep up with his long strides, but he doesnât seem to notice, lost in thought.
Finally he turns, his eyes like hot coals. âI didnât pick anything. Everyone knows that.â
âAt least you knew this was coming. I woke up this morning and didnât even have a boyfriend.â Cal winces at my words, but I donât care. I canât handle his self-pity. âAnd, you know, thereâs the âyouâre going to be kingâ thing. That must be a boost.â
He chuckles to himself, but heâs not laughing. His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward, surveying me from head to toe. Instead of looking judgmental, he seems sad. Deeply sad in the red-gold pools of his eyes, a little boy lost, looking for someone to save him.
âYouâre a lot like Maven,â he says after a long moment that makes my heart race.
âYou mean engaged to a stranger? We do have that in common.â
âYouâre both very smart.â I canât help but snort. Cal obviously doesnât know I canât get through a fourteen-year-oldâs math test. âYou know people, you understand them, you see through them.â
âI did a great job of that last night. I definitely knew you were the crown prince the whole time.â I still canât believe it was only last night. What a difference a day makes.
âYou knew I didnât belong.â
His sadness is contagious, sending an ache over me. âSo weâve switched places.â
Suddenly the palace doesnât seem so beautiful or so magnificent. The hard metal and stone is too severe, too bright, too unnatural, trapping me in. And underneath it all, the electric buzz of cameras drones on. Itâs not even a sound but a feeling in my skin, in my bones, in my blood. My mind reaches out to the electricity, as if on instinct. Stop, I tell myself. Stop. The hair stands up on my arm as something sizzles beneath my skin, a crackling energy I canât control. Of course it returns now, when itâs the last thing I want.
But the feeling passes as quickly as it came, and the electricity shifts to a low hum again, letting the world return to normal.
âAre you okay?â
Cal stares down at me, confused.
âSorry,â I mumble, shaking my head. âJust thinking.â
He nods, looking almost apologetic. âAbout your family?â
The words hit me like a slap. They hadnât even crossed my mind in the last few hours, and it sickens me. A few hours of silk and royalty have already changed me.
âIâve sent a conscript release for your brothers and your friend, and an officer to your house, to tell your parents where you are,â Cal continues, thinking this might calm me. âWe canât tell them everything though.â
I can only imagine how that went. Oh, hello. Your daughter is a Silver now, and sheâs going to marry a prince. Youâll never see her again, but weâll send you some money to help out. Even trade, donât you think?
âThey know you work for us and have to live here, but they still think youâre a servant. For now, at least. When your life becomes more public, weâll figure out how to deal with them.â
âCan I write to them at least?â Shadeâs letters were always a bright spot in our dark days. Maybe mine will be the same.
But Cal shakes his head. âIâm sorry, thatâs just not possible.â
âI didnât think so.â
He ushers me into my room, which quickly sparkles to life. Motion-activated lights, I think. Like back in the hallway, my senses sharpen and everything electrical becomes a burning feeling in my mind. Immediately I know there are no less than four cameras in my room and that makes me squirm.
âItâs for your own protection. If anyone were to intercept the letters, to find out about youââ
âAre the cameras in here for my own protection?â I ask, gesturing to the walls. The cameras stab into my skin, watching every inch of me. Itâs maddening, and after a day like today, I donât know how much more I can take. âIâm locked in this nightmare palace, surrounded by walls and guards and people who will tear me to shreds, and I canât even get a momentâs peace in my own room.â
Instead of snapping back at me, Cal looks bewildered. His eyes blaze around. The walls are bare, but he must be able to sense them too. How can anyone not feel the eyes pressing down?
âMare, there arenât any cameras in here.â
I wave a hand at him, dismissive. The electrical hum still breaks against my skin. âDonât be stupid. I can feel them.â
Now he truly looks lost. âFeel them? What do you mean?â
âIââ But the words die in my throat as I realize: he doesnât feel anything. He doesnât even know what Iâm saying. How can I explain this to him, if he doesnât already know? How can I tell him I feel the energy in the air like a pulse, like another part of me? Like another sense? Would he even understand?
Would anyone?
âIs thatânot normal?â
Something flickers in his eyes as he hesitates, trying to find the words to tell me Iâm different. Even among the Silvers, Iâm something else.
âNot to my knowledge,â he finally says.
My voice sounds small, even to me. âI donât think anything about me is normal anymore.â
He opens his mouth to speak but thinks better of it. Thereâs nothing he can say to make me feel better. Thereâs nothing he can do for me at all.
In the fairy tales, the poor girl smiles when she becomes a princess. Right now, I donât know if Iâll ever smile again.