Maven POV:
I lost control.
Didn't even have enough dignity to keep a promise I made to myself. Shouldn't be surprised. The crackling of the residual flames and the acrid scent of charred wood filled the air. Memories of Thomas flooded back - his smile, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his touch. All lost to the flames of war when he was just 17. I had vowed, after his death, never to lose control of my ability again. Yet here I stood, amidst the ashes of another mistake.
I ran out the room, yet the fire seemed to follow me everyway. A sudden hiss filled the hall, drawing attention upwards. From the ornate ceiling, sprinklers burst to life, releasing torrents of water upon the assembled courtiers. The abrupt cascade drenched everyone, turning the grandeur of the banquet hall into a chaotic deluge. Silks clung to bodies, previously immaculate hairstyles sagged under the weight of the water, and the shine of jewelry was dulled by the soaking onslaught. Faces turned up in shock, disbelief clear in their eyes. Voices rose in protest and confusion, the murmurs now replaced by the overwhelming sound of cascading water. All eyes, wide and filled with astonishment, inevitably settled on me. As droplets dripped from my hair and down my face, the cold wetness was both a jolt to my senses and a surreal punctuation to the revelations that had just shaken the room.
My eyes scanned the room swiftly as individuals from every corner converged upon me, driven by the uproar. Sentinels, officers, and guards approached with evident concern. Bursting into the banquet hall, the elite Silver society turned their attention to me, their gazes expectant. Just like the guards, they too swarmed around, eager for an explanation.
There's no pathway back to a world where I'd have stood silently, allowing my mother's plots to play out. In that world, a crown would've adorned my head, and my title as King Maven would've silenced the hushed tones of my shortcomings. I wouldn't be searching the eyes of others for my father's approval. My existence wouldn't be defined by lingering in the background.
But those visions are mere fantasies now. Choices have been carved in stone.
My heart raced, and in the split seconds that felt like hours, I began to weave a narrative in my mind. Every gaze upon me was a demand for an explanation, a challenge I had to meet. Could I really deceive the elites? Could I twist the truth so convincingly? I took a deep breath. This was my chance, not only to protect Mare but also to secure my own position in this treacherous game. I had to be believable, had to be cunning. Every word would be scrutinized, every emotion analyzed. Drawing on every lesson Mother had ever taught me about manipulation, I began to formulate my response. The weight of my choice pressed on me; deceive or be destroyed. But there was no turning back now. It was time to play the part.
The grand doors of the banquet hall flung open, revealing Tiberias and Cal, both panting and wearing expressions of pure bewilderment. Their eyes darted around, searching the crowd for familiar faces.
"What happened in there, Maven?" Cal rasped, his gaze locked onto me, his eyes full of confusion and desperation.
Gathering my wits, I interjected, "Father, Cal, listen to me!" I hoped my voice was as convincing as I felt inside. "This goes deeper than just Mare. She isn't the only one of her kind."
Father frowned, confusion evident. "What do you mean, 'her kind'?"
Drawing a deep breath, I stepped forward, asserting a confidence I wasn't entirely sure I felt. "My mother," I declared, my voice clear and resounding, "tried to control me. Her whispers led me astray, making me a puppet in her wicked scheme." The gasps that followed were audible, as the crowd took a collective breath. "She sought to make Cal kill Tiberias and, under her influence, I was bound to her will."
The murmurs in the hall grew louder as the court tried to digest the information. Cal and Father exchanged glances filled with anticipation and surprise, but let me continue.
"No!" Mother's voice cracked with feigned vulnerability, "How can you accuse your own mother of such a thing?" She struggled to squeeze out crocodile tears, but her act was as transparent as glass.
I met her dramatics with a cold resolve. "I infiltrated the Scarlet Guard only to extract information for our realm," I stated, my voice steady and confident. "To safeguard our kingdom from the looming menace they posed."
As Ren walked in with Mare by his side, his expression immediately shifted from complacency to sheer panic. He was quick to read the room, realizing he had walked into a storm I had ignited. His eyes darted towards me, searching for an explanation, perhaps a hint of warning. But I gave him none. The room's atmosphere grew even more charged, each individual waiting with bated breath for what would come next.
But I wasn't finished. "Mareena Titanos or should I say Mare Barrow," I said, directing the room's attention to the chained Red girl, "possesses Silver abilities. My father planned our engagement to safeguard this secret." The room buzzed with shock. The weight of my revelation seemed to press down on every individual present, squeezing the air out of the room.
"And she's not the only one," I continued, drawing out a piece of paper – the list of newbloods. "These are the names of Reds with abilities like ours. And for those of you doubting the extent of their organization," I paused for dramatic effect, "I present to you, the location of their secret base: Naercey."
The commotion was instantaneous. Accusations flew, and sides were rapidly chosen. The Silver court was divided, some casting suspicious glances at Father, others whispering in huddled groups.
Father stepped forward, taking a moment to breathe, looking directly into my eyes. "Maven," he began, his voice softening, "you've always been my son. My blood. No machination of your mother can change that." The sincerity in his words touched a part of me I had long buried. He continued, "It's true. I orchestrated Mare's engagement to you to protect the secret of her powers. But it was never about pushing you aside or favoring Cal over you. It was a decision for the safety of our kingdom."
A part of me relished in the revelation, a validation that even amidst the deception, a fragment of the truth had been revealed by my hand.
Didn't change the fact that everything he's saying is a lie. He always has favored Cal, no matter how hard I tried. Cal will always be Father's pride, his sun.
"And Elara," his voice boomed, his gaze coldly settling on her. "You think by planting seeds of doubt and manipulating the heart of my son against me, you could control the throne?"
Mother, for once, seemed lost for words, her façade crumbling.
"You whispered in his ear that I didn't love him, that he was always in Cal's shadow," Father said, every word heavy with emotion. "It was a lie crafted by you. My love for Maven was never any less."
The raw pain in his voice was palpable. My chest tightened.
He actually loved me.
His words brought comfort, knowing that my father truly loved me, but the weight of my betrayal, my alignment with the very plots I was now exposing, pressed heavily on my soul.
No. I can't let myself believe his pathetic little sob story
Father continued, now more resolute. "Mare Barrow, for her powers and the threat they present, shall be executed in the Bowl of the Bones." The hall gasped in unison, the weight of the decree dawning upon them.
The words "Bowl of the Bones" echoed hauntingly in my ears. The sheer finality of that sentence for Mare struck me like a physical blow. The fear, the risk, the raw emotion – it was a whirlwind in my mind. As Father made his decree, I kept my face impassive, giving no hint of the turmoil raging within. But beneath the veneer of the loyal Silver prince, my mind raced.
Mare looked at me her eyes filled with the pain of betrayal yet she kept quiet. There was nothing she could do, her powers were gone, and her hands in chains.
I couldn't let her die. Not yet.
It was a treacherous game we were both embroiled in, and for my plan to succeed, my façade had to be impeccable. Every move, every word, every gaze would be scrutinized by those around me. But if there was one thing Mother had taught me, it was the art of deception. And now, more than ever, I had to be the master of that art. The stakes were too high, and time too short. I had to act, and swiftly.
He then turned his attention back to Mother and Ren. "As for you, Mother, and you, Ren Arven, you shall be imprisoned in the Silent Stone. May the weight of your betrayals haunt you in its cold confines."
A hush descended upon the hall. The gravity of the situation, the revelations, the decisions, all hung heavily in the air. My emotions were a tumultuous storm within, a mix of relief, guilt, and an overwhelming sadness. The world I knew was fracturing, but in its place, perhaps a new order would emerge.
And as the guards began their work, executing Father's commands, I knew one thing was certain: the path ahead was uncertain, and every step would be a test of my resolve.
For me, for her, but most of all, for Norta. The game has only just begun.