He recognizes me.

I spin water in my palm to steady my breathing. Maven struts in front of his brother's cell like an insecure peacock, gaudy badges crowded over a garish scarlet sash. The military uniform is unconvincing on his delicate frame, and the hollows under his eyes do nothing to help. I am not his concern.

That honor belongs to Tiberias. His eyes flicker to me, not for the first time. He asked me if I was happy having married a monster.

No one ever asked if I would be happy.

"Do you know what today is, brother?" Maven leers just beyond his reach, flames licking his palm. "Father never remembered, though you'd always pretend otherwise."

His expression softens. "Nineteen. You're not a boy anymore. But you're not a man either."

"How rude." Maven chuckles. "And without a present, too."

"You've borrowed my throne a year. I thought that present enough."

"So generous. I shouldn't be surprised." He strokes his chin. "You always gave the best presents. You even gifted a sword to Father's neck."

"Husband, is there a point to this?" I let a tendril of water curl against his wrist. "I don't care how long your dick is."

His eyes flare to me, hands pinching my tendril. "There's no need to be crude, Wife. Interrogating a prisoner is a valuable skill, one you must perfect to survive my court."

Tiberias clears his throat. "So am I gonna die, or . . . ?"

"No!" Maven's hands burst into flame, then extinguish. "Yes. I mean, I-No one asked you!"

I clap. "Good one."

"Didn't ask you either." The air frosts as he turns away from both of us, muttering, "I definitely didn't ask you."

Tiberias's eyes widen. "Who are you-?"

"You're dying! Shut up!" Maven grips the bars like a lifeline. "You will drown before my court, for all of Norta to see, and there is nothing you can do to stop it." His eyes dart to the side. "I know. Shut up."

"Who-?"

"What did I say?" Maven yanks Tiberias's hand until one of his fingers is close to snapping. "I could burn you. Do you realize that? Do you realize how powerless you are within this cage? Do you realize how tempting it is for me to light up a rag and toss it inside?"

Silence.

"Are we done here?" I yawn. "This is growing tedious."

Maven composes himself. "Wife, I presume you know where the Bowl of Bones is. Escort the prisoner there. I will announce when you are to begin."

"I do not take orders. But very well." I unlock the door and Tiberias staggers out. "Should I hand him his flamemakers? It would be more humiliating."

"On the platform. And not a moment sooner."

Tiberias folds his arms. "Who were you talking to?"

Maven laughs. "Oh Brother, that's the least of your concern. You always struggled with the Osanos in Training." His smile cuts. "Iris is a Cygnet."

He leaves Tiberias and me, but that does not mean we are alone. I tap my foot. "Must I give you directions in your own home?"

"Who was he talking to?"

"Who cares?" Gods, this man is dim. "Hurry up. You're wasting my time."

"I care." Tiberias outpaces me, and I bite back a scathing remark. "He was talking to a person who didn't exist. You're not alarmed by that?"

"I'm not his keeper."

"You're his wife."

"Not by choice." I'm going to enjoy drowning him. "It's bad enough we share a castle. I will not share his problems."

His face softens. "You always have a choice, Iris. You just have to recognize it."

The Bowl has been reshaped from a floor of sand to that of water, a narrow wooden square in the center. I shove Tiberias forward. "Step in."

"You don't have to do this."

"Step. In."

The water rises to meet his shoulders, carrying him to the platform. Electricity flickers to life, weaving a dome around us. I toss his flamemakers beside him. They won't do him much good.

Maven's voice echoes around us, a grand speech listing Tiberias's crimes. Is this to be my life? Always watching, always waiting as he preens and squawks? Word games, court plots, brief refuges in Mare's company, until she dies and he lashes out at me. His crimes. My punishment.

"You may begin."

He'll want this graphic and visceral, to give them a real show. I have too much spite for that. Water rises around Tiberias, thin curtains curving into a globe. In his mouth. Out his nose. Make it quick.

Mother was always fond of small mercies.

Will I ever see her again?

I pull a stream towards his mouth, and it isn't quick. I'm shaking. I have killed dozens of men before him on the battlefield, all with more claim to innocence. He must die.

Unless I do this to Maven instead.

My globe pulses, threatening to enlarge. I could do it. He may be out of sight, but I know where he sits. The electric grid is no match for thousands of gallons of water striking at once, sizzling in an explosive display. I almost do.

The explosions come from the stands.

Scarlet Guard to the rescue. The cameras click off, not willing to air their triumph. They'll revive in time to capture an atrocity, I'm certain.

I expand my sphere, tendrils curling off as I scan for the source. A Silver woman lays a hand on a wall, and it combusts, crumbling onto the seats.

This is not the Scarlet Guard.

Another explosion, and the electric grid sputters and dies. I will not strike until I know who they are. I may not strike at all.

I can handle any Oblivion. Even queens.

My streams catch falling debris, lowering them in a disordered heap below. Tiberias peers out from the center of my globe. His flamemakers are fastened to his wrists, but the fire he summons is feeble. A month of silence takes its toll.

No wonder my husband is so fond of it. He refuses to duel in any realm but the mind. I, on the other hand, can win in any arena I choose.

And I will choose.

Waves intertwine around Tiberias, but they do not crash onto his head. They collect him, placing a safe, but perplexed fire prince beside me. With a flick of my wrist, they form a shield around us both. He flattens against my back. "What is happening?"

"I am leaving. Come with me or don't, but slow me down and I will drown you." I summon another wave from vapor in the air, nobles scattering in my wake. "I've had enough of this marriage."

"Someone else is helping you." Tiberias eyes the perimeter, flames unsteady. "You don't know who they are."

"I don't need to."

"They want me." Tiberias points at the next explosion. "You're in the way."

I prepare another insult, but hesitate. He's right. I ripple my shield, allowing my voice to echo through the room. "Show yourself."

Within moments, an old woman robed in orange and red appears beside me, separated only by a thin curtain of water. "Cygnet. Release my grandson."

"Anabel Lerolan. How rude. Is that how you greet a fellow queen?"

"Maven is no king." She lays a hand against my shield, but no explosions follow. "Join me, and you might taste true power. A marriage to etch into history books."

Tiberias coughs. "Do I have a say in this?"

"Would you rather drown?"

"My hand is an instrument of my will, not something to be bartered and schemed for." I huff. "I would rather support a king who promises to leave me alone."

He perks. "I can do that. I'll leave you alone as much as you please. Probably more so."

"Deal."

Anabel blasts a hole in the opposite wall. "There's a getaway transport waiting in the pavilion. I'll distract the guards."

"No." Why does anyone bother to save this man? "Mare's been trapped in this palace for months. I owe her at least one more rescue attempt."

"If you die, I'm not waiting." I smash a tidal wave into the seats. "You probably will."

"Then you can be smug at me in the afterlife."

Tiberias runs off before Anabel can stop him. A teetering column smashes behind him, rubble battering and clouding my shield. By the time it clears, he is gone.

He returns without her.