Author's Note:

There are no trigger warnings for this chapter. Standard warning for language applies.

Tread Carefully and Happy Reading!

Mare's POV

"Does it hurt when I press here?" Larissa's hands are cold as they put pressure on different parts of my abdomen. I shake my head. "How about here?" She presses a little lower, again I shake my head, but she takes note of the slight wince. "Your liver is still a bit inflamed. Any cramping or bleeding?" She looks me in the eye. I don't think this question has anything to do with my poisoning.

"No." She gives a curt nod.

"How about any other symptoms? Any sensitivities, nausea, vomiting, soreness, fatigue? "She continues to keep a steady and level eye contact. I give the slightest nod. She makes a note in her book.

"I'm tired even though all I do is lay around in this room and I feel sick to my stomach off and on." I shift the blankets as an excuse to break eye-contact.

"Are you eating?" It's a pointed question. And she already knows the answer to.

"Some." I avoid her eye.

"Today?" Her tone is stern.

"No." I feel a sense of shame as I answer.

"My Lady, if you do not eat, you will not grow any stronger. You have to nourish your fruitful recovery" The stresses in select words are slight, but don't go unnoticed. "To that end, I want to start rebuilding your strength and stamina. We will start small and work our way back up to your normal level of activity. Sound good?"

"Yes. Thank you." I got her point, and I am grateful that she is sympathetic. I'm not sure how much she knows about why I'm here, or what my plans are, but I think she understands the importance of me being strong and healthy and the urgency of hiding my condition.

"I want you to relax. I will return in an hour or so with a strength training plan." She turns on her heel and leaves the room at a brisk pace. Through the closed door, I can hear her addressing the guard at the door. "No one is to go in until I return." I give her my silent thanks. I am never left completely alone. If Larissa or Clarisse is not in here, Maven or one of the whole host of people charged with my care and safety is. And once again, I am a captive; trapped under both the King's thumb and his watchful eye. When I gave my tacit consent to be tended to by Maven and his Staff, I had hoped that the opportunity would present itself for me to get a closer look at his writings. Oh, how very wrong I was.

"But ma'am, The King will be returning from his meetings shortly. He will insist—" I don't recognize the guard's voice. I'm not surprised, I know very few of the soldiers pressed into the King's personal guard.

"Tell him that these are the doctor's orders and if he takes issue with them, he can come speak to me in my office." I suppress a chuckle.

"Yes, ma'am." He sounds a bit stunned but accepts the order.

Recovery has been slow. In the days immediately following my poisoning, I have been cloistered in the King's rooms. I have not seen anyone outside of my care team in nearly a week. Those who tend me are quiet and provide me no answers about what is going on out in the palace. Maven tells me nothing either. I try to bait him into telling me what he has done with Iris and Kyra, but he shuts me down gently every time I bring it up—Don't worry yourself about such things, not until you have recuperated.

The first morning, I woke to him pacing the room. A quick step with a slight shuffle. There is no beat to it. He is nervous and cannot keep time in his stride. I sat up slowly to watch him study his hands until I couldn't take it anymore. I yelled at him to stop before he made me sick. Since then he has treated me like a wounded bird. He has kept quiet and distant both literally and figuratively. He leaves before I wake every morning and checks in on me throughout the day, but it is not until after dinner that we spend any significant amount of time together.

The days are long, but the nights are even longer. My lack of movement throughout the day makes it difficult to sleep at night. Maven and I both lie awake at night, neither acknowledging that the other is struggling. In the rigid silence, I can't stop myself from thinking of Cal; comparing him to his little brother, my feelings for them. I wrestle with everything inside me; the anger, guilt, love, sorrow—swirling and congealing into a hard knot that I cannot work through. The healing wounds on my thighs itch in those moments, bidding me to scratch them open and let them weep for me. I don't dare move to relieve all the pent-up emotion—I don't dare shatter the tension between Maven and me.

It takes me a couple of minutes to decide to test my limits today. My limbs are stiff and sore from the constant healer ordered bed rest, and I am still weak from the side effects of the poison. I feel bruised and battered as though I had been through battle but have nothing to show for my efforts. My stomach churns, the smell of the cleaning solution used in this room makes me want to be sick. This is so much different from the Silent Stone sickness. Then, I needed to work through it. I had nothing to lose, now I have everything to lose.

I reach out with my ability and sense the cameras. They are never on when Maven is in here, but they watch me all day. I know better than to turn them off, that would summon a guard almost immediately, but it isn't in me to let this opportunity pass. Instead, I follow the lines back to the camera that spies on the desk with the locked drawer. Luckily for me, it is also the only camera from which the closet can be seen. I short it out. I give it a couple of minutes before I move. When I do, I get up slowly and stagger my way to the bathroom. My weakness is exaggerated. As I stood, I realized that I am not nearly as weak as I thought I was. I leave the door open and splash some water on my face. From the bathroom, I move to the closet and quickly grab a change of clothes, then dash over to the desk to pick the lock and grab a journal. Just after I hear the lock click, I also hear the sitting room door open. Shit. I hope that It is a guard and not Maven. I pull a journal out of the drawer blindly and hide it under my clothes. I rearrange my face into what I hope is tired and pained and work hard to hide my relief when a guard knocks twice and enters the room.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" There is no genuine concern in his voice when he addresses me.

"I am fine. I just needed to rest for a moment. Thank you for your concern." The Guard nods, keeping his head bowed. "You can go now."

"I cannot, my Lady."

"Oh, I thought healer Skonos was going to insist that I not be disturbed for a little while?" I force as much confusion as I can muster into my voice. While I discreetly look this man over. He wears the colors of a banshee, and his uniform shows no honors or distinctions or significant ranks.

"She did, my Lady—"

"Then may I ask why her orders are being disobeyed? Is there a reason, Guardsman Miranos, that you would not want me to recover? Perhaps, you side with Her Majesty, Queen Iris; and that should be brought to the attention of the King...?" I muse aloud watching the color leach out of his face. He stutters trying to find an answer in the carpet. I wonder for a moment if it is indicative of what Maven is doing to the people involved in my poisoning.

"My Lady, I... My orders... one of the cameras is not working, and you have been out of sight..." I fix him with a glare that is not for him, but for Maven. I suppose he thought he wasn't watching me closely enough before Iris' attack.

"Look at me, Miranos." He does, confusion etched on his face. I raise my hand and put on a show of igniting a spark in my hand. The light is weak and sputters out almost immediately. I let my chest heave as If the act was taxing. "I can't even feel the cameras, let alone manipulate them." He gives a slight nod but doesn't move. "If you are going to stay and be a hindrance to my healing, could you at least draw me a bath?"

"Of course, my Lady." He ducks into the bathroom, visibly relieved to no longer be scrutinized. I gather up the little book and my clothes Before I close the bathroom door, I address the guard once more.

"You should have that camera looked at while I am in the bath." I close the door with a snap.

The hot water feels incredible on my weary muscles. They are sore and stiff from not using them. It hasn't been that long since I tried to relax and As I sink low in the water, I want to let my mind wander back to it—to the chilly river water, to strong and loving hands, and the stillness of the woods. I allow myself a short indulgence. I close my eyes and let myself submerge fully falling back into a not too distant memory. It fades as I come back up for air. I have work to do.

I thumb through the journal, I don't think it is the one that will help me prove what Maven and Elara did, but I thumb through it anyway; perhaps it will provide me with something else I can entries start right after I killed his mother and end just after his Wedding day. They detail in full the last time he captured me. Sprawled across the page in slightly smeared ink are confessions that I could never have imagined. A soul trapped in a place with no light or sense of which way might be up. A mind cut into pieces that scarcely connect, save for the raw anger and caustic hatred that drips from every word. It is a wonder he can manage civility at all. The pity I feel is new, but oh, does it burn.

I had thought that the depths of my self-loathing were a black chasm, but when compared to the hell he is trying to claw his way out of, it is merely a wading pool. The space around the burning in my chest is hollow. A bell could ring for years in that space from a single strike. A twinge of regret reverberates in there now; echoing around, making feel ashamed of my treatment of him. I drop the book on the tile with a dull thud and let myself slip under the rapidly chilling water. I scream, pushing all the air from my lungs in a violent stream of bubbles. When I break the surface again, my lungs burn from lack of oxygen. I scrub the water from my face with trembling hands.

I stare at my reflection as I get dressed. How could I not have known? My mind meanders through the signs and hints he has given me. I put the pieces together slowly pressing together seemingly unconnected off hand remarks and comments that change with this new context. I start to scold myself for not paying better attention but stop mid rebuke when my eyes land on the burn scars on my collar bone.

This. This is the very reason I have refused to let anyone heal this wound. This is what reminds me of what he is and what he did. The reasons do not change his actions. The reasons do not acquit him or the charges against him, but they just might stay his execution.

Before opening the door, I check to see if the camera has been fixed, it hasn't. I also take a moment to think about Tyton and the way he manipulates with such precision. I reach out again trying to figure out if there is anyone else in the room. It's no use, I have never been able to manipulate a living target without seeing them. Nor have I done it from this far away. I don't sense anything other than the wires and their various terminals, and I hear nothing the constant thrum of the current that runs through them. I tuck the journal inside my robe and open the door. The room is empty, but there are voices in the hall. They are not close enough to hear clearly, but it sounds like Maven.

I close my eyes and place my hand on the wall as if I am using it to support myself. I feed small amounts of energy into the grid. I trip the circuit for the wing making the only light in this wing the fading evening sunlight. I dash to the desk, replace the journal and return to where I was when the lights went out. As the door from the sitting room opens, I sway where I stand, catching myself at the last moment on the wall.

"Can I assume that you do not want my help?" The is a dull dryness n his voice that suggests he had a tedious day. I don't look up but shake my head. Maven crosses the room in a few steps and holds his hand out to me. I take it and let him guide me back toward the bed. "Do you want to tell me why you are playing with the power grid?" His grip tightens on my fingers. I try half-heartedly to pull away, in return, he tightens his grip again. He is suspicious of me.

"Maven, I'm sorry. I got dizzy, and I lost control. It was only for a moment, but I grabbed the wall for support, I must have..." I let myself trail off and sway again. Maven steadies me loosening his grip and settling back into a less defensive posture. Larissa Knocks and enters as I am settling back into the pillows.

"How are you feel—Your Majesty, Good Evening." He inclines his head in acknowledgment but says nothing. I look him over in the fading light. Tension presses down on him. The burning knot of pity in my chest pulses and flares.

"Larissa, could we do this tomorrow? I am really not feeling up to it tonight." The healer steps closer concern in her eyes.

"Have your symptoms escalated?"

"Just some dizziness and I am really tired." She places a cold hand on my arm.

"Your blood pressure is a little low. Rest, eat and I will check in on you in the morning. Good Night my lady, Your Majesty." The little blond woman retreats slowly, never really turning her back to the King. I have never seen her do that before. I wonder happened while I was unconscious. The lights come back on as a thick silence builds between Maven and me. He is looking out the window, lost in thought when I decide it is time to cut through it.

"Maven?" He turns to face me. I get the sense that I startled him out of deep thought. I motion for him to come sit near me, but he hesitates. "Please?" The hard line of his mouth softens into something that could be considered a smile with a little bit more coaxing, but he still hasn't moved from his place. I implore him again, a note of pleading coloring my tone now. "Please?" He relents with a quiet sigh and sits on the far edge of the bed. Still quiet. Still distant. "What's bothering you, Maven?"

"It is nothing you need concern yourself with."

"If it troubles you, I would hope you would confide in me. Unless you feel like you still can't trust me. In which case, feel free to continue being silent and withdrawn." As I speak the tone of my voice shifts to cynicism and annoyance causing him to raise an eyebrow at me. I turn away and cross my arms over my chest. Moments later, I feel the shift in weight as he moves toward me. His lips press against my cheek.

"I don't tr—" I turn quickly and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I allow him to pull me closer.

"You haven't touched me in days." I don't have to think of Cal as I say it this time to make it convincing.

"I was ordered not to by the healer." The words are breathy against my ear.

"Were you also ordered to stay at least three feet away from me at all times, to not speak to me, and to not spend any time with me?" He pulls away. I have seen the look he wears before, except with eyes of liquid amber instead of blue ice. It is a look of mild surprise at having been called out for acting ridiculous and sorrow for having disappointed me. I pull out of his grasp and press it. "You asked me to let you try your hand at taking care of me; avoiding me is not the way to do that."

'Mare." I stop my thinly veiled tirade and look at him again. "I'm sorry." I don't know what to say. "Don't look so surprised."

"I don't recall you having ever apologized to me." The dark look that passes over his features is fleeting, but enough to concern me.

"Only once." He looks down, away from my face as though he is ashamed of the admission. "I've never apologized to anyone else, and if I have, assume it was insincere." He meets my eye again, face full of sadness. "I made an error in judgment after you chastised me for worrying about you and I want your forgiveness."

"Excuse me?" He puts a finger to my lips.

"Ah Ah don't press it, my darling. Just accept it and allow me to make amends." He has returned to his regular confident airs.

"Fine, tell me what has been going on during my reoperation." I am back on the offensive after having been caught off guard by his candor.

"No one has been executed if that is what you are asking." There is a bitter edge to the words.

"No, I am asking you to tell me what is going on that has you so high strung. I'm asking you to give me your confidence and consider letting me be your friend, your partner instead of your property." There is a quiet knock at the door; Maven bristles at the intrusion. I lay a hand on his arm to steady him. "You may come in." The woman in charge of keeping Maven's schedule, whose name I cannot remember, steps just inside the door. She has a small voice for a tall woman and looks as though she might snap in half if the wind blows too hard.

"Pardon the interruption Majesty, your dinner meeting Is scheduled to start in ten minutes." When he speaks, he is calm. I feel a hint of pride at being a tempering influence over him.

"Cancel it. I am retiring for the evening. Tell Captain Arven, that we are not to be disturbed. You're dismissed." As soon as the door closes again, He refocuses his full attention on me. "Mare, I don't think now is the—"

"Where is Iris?" I drop all pretense of coyness. I want answers, and if Maven is interested in keeping me happy, he will answer my questions.

"Sequestered." Resignation, just what I wanted.

"And the handmaid that had been tending me? The one you wanted to teach a lesson to. I assume you have tortured—"

"She is in the cells, awaiting trial. I haven't touched her." Mavens tone shifts again. I don't bother identifying what he might be feeling. There is no sense in doing so until I have pushed him too far.

"Trial for what?"

"Collusion, aiding and abetting, treason."

"Nothing she is actually guilty of, what a shock." I roll my eyes as I turn away from him.

"She delivered the poison." He is growing exasperated.

"And if she didn't know? If she is innocent? Will you make her another victim for her involuntary involvement?" The pitch of my voice is too high, but I disregard it. I put Kyra in danger, I have to get her out of it. I have to protect her from Maven.

"The guards are investigating your poisoning. If she is innocent, she will be released back to her family." He reaches out and touches my arm. He wants me to look at him but doesn't want to force me to do so. I resist him.

"What about the others?" My voice has returned to its normal pitch but still sounds wrong in my ears. Still offensive with a sharp edge to it. I can feel his tension, and I am sure I am its cause.

"They will be treated accordingly." He drops his voice. "I took you advice. I have been still, patient, lenient even." I turn to look at him. A weak smile on his lips. "I also assumed you would want to be involved; Trials will not be held until you are well enough to attend." The silence between us is warm, almost soothing. If I didn't know him so well, I would think he was looking for praise. But in the dying light, he looks little more than concerned about keeping me calm. I glance away unsettled by the amount of affection held within those few moments. I fight the urge to retreat into myself and pull away from his warmth. Instead, I move closer; laying my head on his shoulder. His cheek rests against my still damp hair; my reciprocated affection seemingly melting his tension.

"And Iris?" My voice is merely a whisper now. There is no fight left in either of us.

"You needn't worry about her." The tips of his fingers glide absently over my forearm. The touch is light, almost nothing against my skin. The gentility of it is astounding when compared to what I read this evening.

"Bullshit. She poisoned me." He stiffens for a moment, before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"She has been silenced and is well guarded. She is not a threat to you right now." I shrug.

"Maybe, but she is a threat to you. I was also trapped in silent stone and guarded. That didn't stop a small subset of The Scarlett Guard from breaking me out. The entire Lakeland army may be at your gates when they learn that you are holding Iris" I am trying to reconcile The Maven that holds me at this moment and the Maven that is scrawled in the pages of those books.

"All communication to the Lakelands is being monitored. Nothing of import goes out without my knowledge." I cock my head so that I can look up at him.

"And what about what went out before she poisoned me?" He considers me for a moment and shrugs it off. "Minimizing this will not make it any less inevitable. You didn't see it coming the last time; I did."

"I will not let it happen again. No one will take you from me; that is, other than you." The flicker of fierceness colors his words. It fans that burning spot in my chest into a ball that burns with bright blue fire.

"Me?"

"Yes, you are free to leave whenever you choose." The slight waver in his voice betrays his confidence and adds to the sincerity of his words.

"But the contract."

"It does little more than declare you my legal consort."

"What is the little more?" He hesitates. "Maven, just tell me. I couldn't possibly be any angrier with you about this contract than I already am."

"It prevents you from being with anyone other than me without committing treason and allows me to claim any child you may conceive as mine and legitimate, should I choose to do so." It takes everything inside me not to react. "It also only binds you for one year. In one year, I will allow you to renegotiate your contract. In the meantime, it doesn't bind you to this place or my will. You can come and go as you please as soon as you are able." I feel him brace for my response.

"Okay."

"That's all? No yelling, no fighting?" He almost sounds disappointed.

"No."

"Why not?"

"There is nothing to yell or fight about. The decision was made for me, and there is nothing that can be done about it now. I can declare it a forgery and be executed. Or I can accept it and try to let it go. I do still have a choice in this. I choose me."