Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard
The dress is a dark shade of purple spattered with silver, made of silk and sheer lace. All houses have a color, I remember, thinking back to the rainbow of families. The colors of Titanos, my name, must be purple and silver.
When one of the maids reaches for my earrings, trying to take away the last bit of my old life, a surge of fear pulses through me. “Don’t touch them!”
The girl jumps back, blinking quickly, and the others freeze at my outburst.
“Sorry, I—” A Silver wouldn’t apologize. I clear my throat, collecting myself. “Leave the earrings.” My voice sounds strong, hard—regal. “You can change everything else, but leave the earrings.”
The three cheap pieces of metal, each one a brother, aren’t going anywhere.
“The color suits you.”
I whirl around to see the maids stooped in identical bows. And standing over them: Cal. Suddenly, I’m very glad the makeup covers the blush spreading over me.
He gestures quickly, his hand moving in a brushing motion, and the maids scurry from the room like mice fleeing from a cat.
“I’m sort of new to this royal thing, but I’m not sure you’re supposed to be here. In my room,” I say, forcing as much disdain into my voice as I can muster. After all, it’s his fault I’m in this forsaken mess.
He takes a few steps toward me and, on instinct, I take a step back. My feet catch on the hem of my dress, making me choose between not moving or falling over. I don’t know which is less desirable.
“I came to apologize, something I can’t really do with an audience.” He stops short, noting my discomfort. A muscle twitches in his cheek as he looks me over, probably remembering the hopeless girl who tried to pickpocket him only last night. I look nothing like her now. “I’m sorry for getting you into this, Mare.”
“Mareena.” The name even tastes wrong. “That’s my name, remember?”
“Then it’s a good thing Mare’s a suitable nickname.”
“I don’t think anything about me is suitable.”
Cal’s eyes rake over me, and my skin burns under his gaze. “How do you like Lucas?” he finally says, taking an obliging step back.
The Samos guard, the first decent Silver I’ve met here. “He’s all right, I suppose.” Perhaps the queen will take him away if I reveal how gentle the officer was to me.
“Lucas is a good man. His family thinks him weak for his kindness,” he adds, eyes darkening a little. As if he knows the feeling. “But he’ll serve you well, and fairly. I’ll make sure of it.”
How thoughtful. He’s given me a kind jailer. But I bite my tongue. It won’t do any good to snap at his mercy. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
The spark returns to his eyes, and a smirk to his lips. “You know my name is Cal.”
“And you know my name, don’t you?” I tell him bitterly. “You know what I come from.”
He barely nods, as if ashamed.
“You have to take care of them.” My family. Their faces swim before my eyes, already so far away. “All of them, for as long as you can.”
“Of course I will.” He takes a step toward me, closing the gap between us. “I’m sorry,” he says again. The words resound in my head, echoing off a memory.
The wall of fire. The choking smoke. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
It was Cal who caught me earlier, who kept me from escaping this awful place.
“Are you sorry for stopping my one chance of escape?”
“You mean if you got past the Sentinels, Security, the walls, the woods, back to your village to wait until the queen herself hunted you down?” he replies, taking my accusations in stride. “Stopping you was the best thing for you and your family.”
“I could’ve gotten away. You don’t know me.”
“I know the queen would tear the world apart looking for the little lightning girl.”
“Don’t call me that.” The nickname stings more than the fake name I’m still getting used to. Little lightning girl. “That’s what your mother calls me.”
He laughs bitterly. “She’s not my mother. She’s Maven’s, not mine.” Just by the set of his jaw, I know not to press the issue.
“Oh,” is all I can say, my voice very small. It fades quickly, a faint echo against the vaulted ceiling. I crane my neck, looking around at my new room for the first time since I came in. It’s finer than anything I’ve ever seen—marble and glass, silk and feathers. The light has changed, shifting to the orange color of dusk. Night is coming. And with it, the rest of my life.
“I woke up this morning as one person,” I mutter, more to myself than to him, “and now I’m supposed to be someone else entirely.”
“You can do this.” I feel him take a step toward me, his heat filling the room in a way that makes my skin prickle. But I don’t look up. I won’t.
“How do you know?”
“Because you must.” He bites his lip, eyes shifting over me. “As beautiful as this world is, it’s just as dangerous. People who are not useful, people who make mistakes, they can be removed. You can be removed.”
And I will be. Someday. But that is not the only threat I face. “So the moment I mess up could be my last?”
He doesn’t speak, but I can see the answer in his eyes. Yes.
My fingers fiddle with the silver belt at my waist, pulling it tight. If this was a dream, I would wake up, but I don’t. This is really happening. “What about me? About”—I hold out my hands, glaring at the infernal things—“this?”
In response, Cal smiles. “I think you’ll get the hang of it.”
Then he holds up his own bare hand. A strange contraption at his wrist, something like a bracelet with two metal ends, clicks, producing sparks. Instead of disappearing in a flash, the sparks glow and burst into red flame, giving off a blast of heat. He’s a burner, he controls heat and fire, I remember. He’s a prince, and a dangerous one at that. But the flame disappears as quickly as it came, leaving only Cal’s encouraging smile and the humming of cameras hidden somewhere, watching over everything.
The masked Sentinels on the edge of my vision are a constant reminder of my new position. I’m nearly a princess, engaged to the second most eligible bachelor in the country. And I’m a lie. Cal is long gone, leaving me with my guards. Lucas isn’t so bad, but the others are stern and quiet, never looking me in the eye. The guards and even Lucas are wardens to keep me imprisoned in my own skin, red behind a silver curtain that can never be pulled away. If I fall, if I even slip, I will die. And others will die for my failure.
As they escort me toward the feast, I go over the story the queen drilled into me, the pretty tale she was going to tell the court. It’s simple, easy to remember, but it still makes me cringe.
I was born at the war front. My parents were killed in an attack on the camp. A Red soldier saved me from the rubble and brought me home to a wife who always wanted a daughter. They raised me in the village called the Stilts, and I was ignorant of my birthright or my ability until this morning. And now I am returned to my rightful place.
The thought makes me sick. My rightful place is at home, with my parents and Gisa and Kilorn. Not here.
The Sentinels lead the way through the maze of passages in the upper levels of the palace. Like the Spiral Garden, the architecture is all curves of stone, glass, and metal, slowly turning downward. Diamondglass is around every corner, showing breathtaking views of the marketplace, the river valley, and the woods beyond. From this height, I can see hills I didn’t know existed rising in the distance, silhouetted against the setting sun.
“The last two floors are royal apartments,” Lucas says, pointing up the sloping, spiraling hallway. Sunlight glitters like a firestorm, throwing speckles of light down on us. “The lift will take us down to the ballroom. Just here.” Lucas reaches out, stopping next to a metal wall. It reflects us dully, then slides away when he waves a hand.
The Sentinels usher us into a box with no windows and harsh lighting. I force myself to b
I jump a mile when the lift suddenly moves, making my pulse race. My breath comes in short gasps as I look around in wide-eyed fright, expecting to see the others reacting in the same way. But no one else seems to mind the fact that the room we’re in is dropping. Only Lucas notices my discomfort, and he slows our descent a little.
“The lift moves up and down, so we don’t have to walk. This place is very big, Lady Titanos,” he murmurs with the ghost of a smile.
I’m torn between wonder and fear as we drop, and I breathe a sigh of relief when Lucas opens the lift doors. We march out into the mirrored hall I ran through this morning. The broken mirrors are already fixed—it looks like nothing ever happened.
When Queen Elara appears around the corner, her own Sentinels in tow, Lucas sweeps into a bow. Now she wears black and red and silver, her husband’s colors. With her blond hair and pale skin, she looks downright ghoulish.
She grabs me by the arm, pulling me to her as we walk. Her lips don’t move, but I hear her voice all the same, echoing in my head. This time it doesn’t hurt or make me nauseous, but the sensation still feels sick and wrong. I want to scream, to claw her out of my head. But there’s nothing I can do except hate her.
The Titanos family were oblivions, she says, her voice all around. They could explode things with a touch, like the Lerolan girl did at Queenstrial. When I try to remember the girl, Elara projects an image of her directly into my brain. It flashes, barely there, but still I see a young girl in orange blow up rock and sand like military bombs. Your mother, Nora Nolle, was a storm like the rest of House Nolle. Storms control the weather, to an extent. It’s not common, but their union resulted in your unique abilities to control electricity. Say no more, if anyone asks.
What do you really want with me? Even in my head, my voice quivers.
Her laughter bounces inside my skull, the only answer I’ll get.
Remember the person you’re supposed to be, and remember well, she continues, ignoring my question. You are pretending to be raised Red, but you’re Silver by blood. You are now Red in the head, Silver in the heart.
A shiver of fear shoots through me.
From now until the end of your days, you must lie. Your life depends on it, little lightning girl.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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TEN
Elara leaves me standing in the hallway, mulling over her words.
I used to think there was only the divide, Silver and Red, rich and poor, kings and slaves. But there’s much more in between, things I don’t understand, and I’m right in the middle of it. I grew up wondering if I’d have food for supper; now I’m standing in a palace about to be eaten alive.
Red in the head, Silver in the heart sticks with me, guiding my motions. My eyes stay wide, taking in the grand palace both Mare and Mareena had never dreamed of, but my mouth presses into a firm line. Mareena is impressed, but she keeps her emotions in check. She is cold and unfeeling.
The doors at the end of the hall open, revealing the biggest room I’ve ever seen, bigger even than the throne room. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the sheer size of this place. I step through the doors onto a landing. Stairs lead down to the floor, where every house sits in cool expectation, their eyes forward. Again, they keep to their colors. A few mutter among themselves, probably talking about me and my little show. King Tiberias and Elara stand on a raised surface a few feet higher than the floor, facing the crowd of their subjects. They never miss an opportunity to lord over the others. Either they’re very vain, or very aware. To look powerful is to be powerful.
The princes match their parents in different outfits of red and black, both decorated with military medals. Cal stands to his father’s right, his face still and impassive. If he knows who he’s going to marry, he doesn’t look happy about it. Maven’s there too, on his mother’s left, his face a storm cloud of emotions. The younger brother is not as good as Cal at hiding his feelings.
At least I won’t have to deal with a good liar.
“The right of Queenstrial is always a joyous event, representing the future of our great kingdom and the bonds that keep us strongly united in the face of our enemies,” the king says, addressing the crowd. They don’t see me yet, standing on the edge of the room, looking down on them all. “But as you saw today, Queenstrial has brought forth more than just the future queen.”
He turns to Elara, who clasps the king’s hand in her own with a dutiful smile. Her shift from devilish villain to blushing queen is astounding. “We all remember our bright hope against the darkness of war, our captain, our friend, the General Ethan Titanos,” Elara says.
People murmur over the room, in fondness or sadness. Even the Samos patriarch, Evangeline’s cruel father, bows his head. “He led the Iron Legion to victory, pushing back the lines of war that had stood for a hundred years. The Lakelanders feared him, our soldiers loved him.” I strongly doubt a single Red soldier loved their Silver general. “Lakelander spies killed our beloved friend Ethan, sneaking across the lines to destroy our one hope for peace. His wife, the Lady Nora, a good and just woman, died with him. On that fateful day sixteen years ago, House Titanos was lost. Friends were taken from us. Silver blood was spilled.”
Silence settles on the room as the queen pauses to dab at her eyes, wiping away what I know are fake, forced tears. A few of the girls, participants in Queenstrial, fidget in their seats. They don’t care about a dead general, and neither does the queen, not really. This is about me, about somehow slipping a Red girl into a crown without anyone noticing. It’s a magic trick and the queen is a skilled magician.
Her eyes find me, blazing up to my spot at the top of the stairs, and everyone follows her gaze. Some look confused while others recognize me from this morning. And a few stare at my dress. They know the colors of House Titanos better than I do, and understand who I am. Or at least who I’m pretending to be.
“This morning we saw a miracle. We watched a Red girl fall into the arena like a bolt of lightning, wielding power she should not have.” More murmurs rise, and a few Silvers even stand. The Samos girl looks furious, her black eyes fixed on me.
“The king and I interviewed the girl extensively, trying to discover how she came to be.” Interview is a funny way to describe scrambling my brain. “She isn’t Red, but she is still a miracle. My friends, please welcome back to us Lady Mareena Titanos, daughter of Ethan Titanos. Lost and now found.”
With a twitch of her hand, she beckons me closer. I obey.
I descend the stairs to stilted applause, more focused on not tripping. But my feet are sure, my face still, as I plunge toward hundreds of faces wondering, staring, suspecting. Lucas and my guards don’t follow, staying on the landing. I’m alone in front of these people once again and I’ve never felt so bare, even with the layers of silk and powder. Again, I’m grateful for all the makeup. It’s my shield, between them and the truth of who I am. A truth I don’t even understand.
The queen gestures to an open seat in the front row of the crowd and I make my way to it. The Queenstrial girls watch me, wondering why I’m here and why I’m so important all of a sudden. But they’re only curious, not angry. They look at me with pity, empathizing as best they can with my sad story. Except Evangeline Samos. When I finally get to my seat, she’s sitting right next to it, her eyes glaring into mine. Gone are her leather clothes and iron studs; now she wears a dress of interlocked metal rings. From the way her fingers tighten, I can tell she wants nothing more than to wrap her hands around my throat.
“Saved from her parents’ fate, Lady Mareena was taken from the front and brought to a Red village not ten miles from here,” the king continues, taking over so he can tell the grand twist in my tale. “Raised by Red parents, she worked as a Red servant. And until this morning, sh
Another gasp, this one from the girls of Queenstrial. They think I’m taking Cal away from them. They think I’m their competition. I raise my eyes to the king, quietly pleading for him to continue before one of the girls murders me.
I can almost feel Evangeline’s cold metal cutting into me. Her fingers lace together tightly, knuckles white as she resists the urge to skin me in front of everyone. On her other side, her brooding father puts a hand on her arm to still her.
When Maven steps forward, the tension in the room deflates. He stutters briefly, tripping over the words he’s been taught, but he finds his voice. “Lady Mareena.”
Trying my best not to shake, I rise to my feet and face him.
“In the eyes of my royal father and the noble court, I would ask for your hand in marriage. I pledge myself to you, Mareena Titanos. Will you accept?”
My heart pounds as he speaks. Though his words sound like a question, I know I have no choice in my answer. No matter how much I want to look away, my eyes stay on Maven. He gives me the smallest of encouraging smiles. I wonder to myself which girl would’ve been chosen for him.
Who would I have chosen? If none of this had happened, if Kilorn’s master never died, if Gisa’s hand was never broken, if nothing ever changed. If. It’s the worst word in the world.
Conscription. Survival. Green-eyed children with my quick feet and Kilorn’s last name. That future was almost impossible before; now it’s nonexistent.