Chapter Twenty-Eight

Suspicion

Lena was given Alice's room. Who it belonged to before her, she didn't know, and didn't care to know. It was clear that it was a gift. A bribe, really. Something meant to sweeten her up. Surely not every room in the castle was so large, so ornate, so well-decorated.

The walls and floors were stone, and there was only one small window overlooking the courtyard. Sometimes, she would stand there and watch others walk below. Other times, when there was an execution, she would watch them set about lighting the fire, eyes trailing over the smoke billowing up into the sky.

Chairs and ottomans were scattered about the room, made from expensive fabrics and dark wood. There was a dressing table against the far wall where she kept a hairbrush and a handheld mirror, and what jewelry Aro gifted her in the weeks she was here, eager to purchase her loyalty.

The closet nearby was bare when she first moved in, though now it held her uniforms: two light grey cloaks of slightly differing lengths, and an array of crisp black pieces she thought suitable for a job interview. Her shoes were lined up along the floor of the wardrobe next to her suitcase, still unpacked.

In the centre of the room was a bed. The sheets were rough, and smelt stale.

All of it seemed wasted given to Lena. She didn't appreciate it, though she knew she was meant to. Alice probably hadn't either.

A knock on her door disturbed her. She turned just as one of the permanent guards opened the door, dressed in a dark grey - almost black - coat. The child, she realised, from the day out in the field in Forks. Alec.

"Master Marcus has summoned you."

His tone was not as bland as his expression. Lena was not blind to his dislike of her, nor of his sister's - Jane, she thought her name was. As she understood, they were once Aro's favourites. Pretty little dolls he collected, lined up, dressed up in a way to incite terror. Since her arrival, Aro was not always as attentive.

"Thank you," Lena said.

He stared at her for a moment longer, and she resisted the urge to squirm.

She wondered if Aro had told the others of her true thoughts. It would be the smart thing to do, but she suspected he was trying to play his own game, just as she was. He would not have allowed her to stay here, alive, if he wasn't trying to enact some plan.

Alec stepped out of the room, and closed the door.

Lena dressed quickly. Pulled her cloak over the top of her ensemble - black pants, a black shirt, and black shoes - and resisted the urge to look in the mirror. As menacing as she looked, she disliked the lack of colour.

She fastened her cloak with a ruby brooch, a gift from Aro. The Volturi's symbol was engraved on the underside, an ornate letter V surrounded by vines. At least, she thought they were vines. They could have just as easily have been snakes. She would have asked, but she didn't really care.

She paused at her dressing table for a moment, staring deep into the drawer. Alistair's necklace peered back at her, the glistening of the rose red gemstone almost hesitant, as if it dreaded her rejection.

She hardly wore it anymore, afraid it might break amidst a fray - or so she told herself. The thought of wearing something he gave her so close to her unbeating heart upset her. She missed Alistair more than anything, but what would she do if it was damaged? If it snapped, or she lost it? Then it would not be there, waiting for her every night when she returned to her room to trail her fingers over the smooth edges of the stone, recalling the moment she received it. A sweet reminder of what was, and what would be after all of this.

She could not have it. Would not wear it until this was over. Lena knew she couldn't have both things at once. It was selfish. There was a process, steps she had to follow. First, she would kill Aro. Then, she could have Alistair, and he could have all of her.

The dark twisted feelings in her gut overpowered the sting in her chest. This was the way it had to be.

She pushed the drawer shut, and left the room.

Marcus was waiting for her in the library. Lena entered the room, unsure what to expect. In truth, she didn't know much about him. She was never really called to social events within the castle, still entirely distrusted. An intrusion, a new addition. They saw hundreds of people cycle in and out of that place every week. How were they to know if she would stay?

All she knew about Marcus was that he was pitiful. She didn't need any supernatural power to sense that. It was apparent in his morose face, in the way his shoulders slumped and he said little to nothing. She wondered how he found himself in a position of power, what qualified him as a leader. He did not speak like one - he hardly spoke at all. He seemed entirely uninterested in leading. To him, power was a burden. Little more than that.

He sat at the back of the library, skimming through an ancient-looking text. His black hair hung over his face as he flipped through the yellowed pages.

Once she was closer, she could see the words along the spine, printed in a language she did not recognise.

"You took longer than I hoped you would." He closed his book and looked up at her. "Shall we take a walk?"

She nodded, though she suspected she didn't have a choice.

They left for the courtyard. It was an area of considerable space in the heart of the castle, surrounded by stone walls. A paved pathway cut through an immaculate garden. Bushes and flowers were arranged in clusters, the occasional tree interrupting a clear view of the sky. It took a second or two for Lena to notice that it purposefully led towards the centre, the plants themselves herding them towards the main event. The firepit was large, appropriate for mass executions, ashy and home to a pile of charred wood.

The two of them circled around the edges of the courtyard. Lena did not speak, unsure what the purpose of this meeting was. When she looked at Marcus, hoping to glimpse a clue, he merely looked bored.

"What do you know of me?"

"Not much," Lena said.

"That's negligent of you."

She supposed he was right. Thought again, as she so often had these last few weeks, that she wasn't quite as far past her newborn days as she thought. Who else rushed into battle without gathering as much information as possible than a mindless child? Alistair's assumptions had been wrong - he thought she lacked forethought because she was a newborn, but perhaps she just lacked forethought in a general sense.

"I have a gift," he said. "I can see the ties between people. The nature of their relationships, their loyalties to each other."

Lena was careful not to let her expression shift.

"I suspect you also have a talent. There is no other reason Aro would show interest in you."

He paused, inviting her to divulge information about herself.

Lena kept her mouth shut. She got away with it too often, with claims of struggling to understand and a general quietness that was usually mistaken for meekness.

He heaved a sigh. "I sense a peculiarity in your relationship with Aro. He is enraptured by you, and I want to believe he has received just the gift he was hoping for, but-" His eyes cut across to her, his gaze entirely accusatory- "I can't help but think you aren't pleased with your current situation."

Lena glanced around the empty courtyard, and up to the windows of the building. "What do you mean?"

He stopped walking, and turned to face her. "I mean to say," he said, "that your intentions seem less than pure."

Lena frowned at him, and tipped her head to the side. She tried her best to seem genuinely confused. "I don't understand."

His expression didn't change in the slightest. He succeeded in appearing bored, despite the apparent rising tension between them. "If you've come to disturb the peace, I would recommend you leave. You may have tempted Aro with whatever it is you have to offer, but the rest of us won't overlook your imminent betrayal."

He stared at her, his apathetic expression not once shifting. Despite it, Lena glimpsed something that looked an awful lot like regret in his gaze, or perhaps disappointment. He turned, breaking eye contact before Lena could follow the line and delve deeper, and walked away from her.

Lena watched him retreat to the castle, not daring to so much as breathe.

Marcus was dangerous. Far more dangerous than she first thought. He could sense her faltering loyalty, the way it blipped in and out of existence. She had to deal with him first, or she would never get anywhere at all.

She looked up at the side of the building. A flash of white caught her attention, but slipped out of sight quickly. Someone was standing by the window, watching her.

Lena didn't dwell on it. She ducked her head and went inside. She understood now. She wasn't foolish enough to believe nobody paid attention to her slinking through the halls back to her room.

Here, she was never alone.

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