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elliemarchetti · 5 years ago

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The Queen of Fangs and Steel (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Words: 1779

In the center of the room there were at least fifteen soldiers who had smeared the large coat of arms of the crown with mud-stained boots. They all wore armor made of black metal slats, with the exception of one: Cal’s was shining with a reddish glow, just as his eyes. Beside him was Evangeline, her hair gathered in a braid that suited her much more than the hairstyles she used to show at Summerton, before her brother’s death. She was slightly out of breath but she looked proud while holding a screaming person by the hair. At the exact moment she met her eyes, before she was thrown at the king’s feet, she recognized Walsh, and Mare searched for the prince’s support, but where she expected to see remorse she found only determination in not wanting to save the one who, in what seemed like a previous lifetime, he had sent to welcome her when she arrived at the Hall of the Sun. The cheerful and carefree servant was no longer there, or perhaps she had never existed and what she had seen was just another mask. How many more times would she have to find out at her own expense that she hadn't known the true colors of who surrounded her?

"These worms sneak into the old tunnels," growled Evangeline, who, without a shadow of a doubt, had recognized Walsh as one of her brother’s killers. "We found her stalking us near the river exits."

If only the princess had known ... Walsh wasn't stalking them, she was patrolling the railway tunnels to make sure the passage was clear for hers and Maven’s return from Naercey. They had made it, but her fate would’ve been very different and she couldn’t have done anything to prevent it, Maven's arm, holding her firmly, wasn’t needed to remind her of the horrible fact.

"We went as far as radiation detectors allowed us to go," added Cal, doing his best to ignore Walsh, who coughed and spit blood, continuing his mission report. Why did he suppress his gentle nature in that way? Why did he do his best to impress a father who barely seemed to love himself, let alone his children? That man was cruel, the perfect match for Elara, who approached the girl like a cat does with a mouse. They wouldn’t have made the same mistake twice, they would’ve made her speak, compromise everyone, ruin the Guard, and then they would’ve killed them one by one, slowly. But probably to be one of Farley's collaborators you had to be ready to die for her, and this did Walsh, when she swallowed something that in a few seconds began to make her secrete white foam from her mouth. A lethal pill, as Cal would’ve said later in a sweet voice, the same one he would’ve used if he had spoken to a child. If it usually bothered her, it wasn't like that when it came to war and death.

"It's a better death than the one we would’ve inflicted her."

"Would you have frozen her? Or maybe burned her alive, just to do something different?" Mare snapped.

Careful, she warned herself. Although his presence made her shiver, she had to resist. After all, she decided to be found on that balcony to give him hope, to make him believe he had a chance with her. It was Maven’s idea, to be honest, but he certainly couldn’t know how easy it was for her to cross the fine line that separated the lie from the truth, especially with Cal, towards whom, even when he was talking about the Bowl of Bones, she didn’t find that easy to define her feelings.

"I thought you stopped with those things. I haven't seen an execution for more than ten years," she said, trying to remember the shows she had seen when she was a child. She shouldn't forget anything, she shouldn't lose sight of her goal.

"Exceptions can be made," he replied. "Since fighting in the arenas hasn't stopped the Scarlet Guard from gaining ground, maybe something else will work."

"I still don't understand why you cared so much. You didn't even know I was different," she whispered. Even though they felt they were alone, she had learned by now that walls too had eyes and ears when the Silvers were involved. Obviously she knew it wasn't her mutation that tied Cal to her but the fact that he crossed his arms uncomfortably, as if to protect himself from something that perhaps he didn’t want to say, or perhaps he had to deny even to himself, was only a welcome confirmation. If all this hadn't happened, if she had been just a Red like the others, they could’ve had a future made of stolen moments and bittersweet caresses, but that girl died in the arena, and even if she wasn’t Mareena, she was a new Mare, more aware of the fact she could make a difference, stronger, even wrapped in silk and lies. It was that thought that gave her the strength to turn her back on him to leave him to reason on her words, that thought that prevented her from collapsing like a house of cards blown away by the wind.

Evangeline advanced along with the other executioners, never taking her eyes off her prey. She knew that Mareena wouldn’t bring any good, but she could never have imagined that she would take away what was dearest to her in the whole world. If he were still alive, Ptolemus would’ve been there with her, roaring like a lion, letting his notorious temperament take over. It would’ve been a good show, and they would’ve had fun, but now she no longer found any joy in turning the blades in her hands; her only desire was to end it quickly, savor the revenge she deserved and return into Elane's arms , where she could’ve been able to cry, if she wanted to. Next to her, taking her place, there was her beloved’s brother, who suddenly disappeared into the blinding light only to reappear once his shirt’s sleeves caught fire in contact with Cal’s weak fire wall. With a bored gesture, Lord Osanos extinguished them thanks to a small wave, and then returned to place his impressive blue eyes on the barrier, against which his liquid sizzled and boiled, turning into dense clouds of steam that immersed everyone under the glass dome in a white, ghostly fog.

"Be ready!" Cal yelled at the Red girl, and Evangeline felt the betrayal squeeze her chest like a vice. The prince, the former prince, owed nothing to her, after all, theirs was a simple agreement, but Ptolemus was his friend, perhaps the only true one he had, why had he done this to him? Perhaps it wasn’t the right question, not when he didn’t hesitated in beheading his own father and killing his uncle and his little cousins with a bomb, all for a cause without any chance of success. No Silver would have ever bowed to laws where the Reds were their equals, and those beasts, if they weren’t given orders and weren’t directed towards obedience, wouldn’t know how to behave, as the Scarlet Guard had shown. She just couldn't understand how she hadn't been suspected Mareena right away: she had come in a too strange way, at a perfect time to give her a position of power that would give her access to far more than all the other Reds combined, yet, although she understood that she was hiding something, she would never suspect anything so big. Obviously she had the doubt that she had been helped by Silvers and she wasn’t surprised by the fact that Julian Jacos, with his aversion to Elara, was one of them, but from making a commoner princess to supporting terrorists… the step was long, maybe too much, but it wasn’t the right time to ask questions, to think, to hesitate, not when Ptolemus would’ve did it for her without any remorse. No, she would’ve killed those assassin and then she would’ve continued to search, devoting her life to hunt down those Red devils one by one if necessary, until she exterminated the Scarlet Guard with her own hands, and if Maven wanted to help, he was welcome. After all, remembering how he was close with Mare, he too had a few reasons to hate them, even if that sudden outburst of cruelty surprised her: when he was giving his speech his eyes were wicked, full of anger and fury, and now he was applauding and inciting his champions so loudly that his voice exceeded the noise made by the crowd. A fast look and she decided to devote her attention on her former fiancée; Stralian could keep Red, after all it was a task that he could accomplish and he needed a little glory poured on his name, but Cal was hers and hers only, and decided to brand him as it by throwing him a shower of knives and metal splinters that she knew he wouldn’t be able to melt completely before at least a couple of blades could reach him since she had often fought against him, in the past. Just as she had imagined, Cal screamed in pain and for a moment he lost concentration, the perfect time to make the knives she was holding merge into a single monstrous sword, the exact copy of Ptolemus’ favourite weapon, who excelled in that type of physical combat, and try to cut the prince in half with it. Watching his guts pouring out on the sand, knowing this blade did it, was a great way to honor Tolly, and if the queen had been magnanimous, she would’ve allowed her mother’s beasts to feed on them, her twisted personal revenge.

“I didn’t killed him!” he yelled, as Evangeline poked out of the fog, her eyes bloodshot. He couldn’t even say his name and he was trying to save his life that way? He was pathetic, but she needed to know why he did it anyway, and so she asked, popping a razor-sharp whip, even if she knew she would never receive an answer. At the thought, tears stung her eyes and she threw herself on him again, but both fell to the ground, rolling in the sand. She was about to sever his carotid when someone snatched her from her prey, making her head hit hard on the ground. Cal was quick to get up, but the last thing she saw was Mare, a cut on her face bleeding red and purple lightning dancing deadly on her hands.

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