War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,185

rippling world beneath the surface. I exhale slowly, watching the bubbles drift and burst. I decide I can do one thing, and one thing alone, about all of this.

I can keep my mouth shut.

And let Julian and Anabel play their games.

My hair is still wet at dinner, coiled into a neat spiral at the base of my neck. My face is bare too. No makeup, no war paint. No use for any of my usual trappings among family, though Mother doesn’t seem to realize that. She’s dressed for a state dinner, even though it’s just the five of us dining in the grand salon of my father’s chambers. Mother glitters as always, poured into a long-sleeved and high-necked gown of black material that glistens purple and green like oil. Her crown is still there too, woven into her braided hair. Father has no use for a crown of his own right now. He’s intimidating no matter what he does or doesn’t wear. Like Ptolemus, he is simple in unadorned clothing, our silver and black. Elane looks serene next to him, her eyes dry and empty.

I pick at my food, silent as I have been through the last two courses. My parents speak enough for all of us, though Ptolemus edges words in now and then. As before, I still feel sick, my belly roiling with unease. Because of my parents and what they want from me, because of how much I’m hurting Elane, and because of what I’ve done as well. I could be dooming my own father with my silence. His kingdom too. But I just can’t say the words aloud.

“I think Ocean Hill’s kitchens are taking the brunt of the young king’s new proclamations,” Mother observes, pushing the food around on her plate. Usually delicious courses have been replaced with bland, simple fare. Plain chicken, lightly seasoned, with greens, boiled potatoes, and some kind of watery sauce. An easy meal for anyone to prepare. Even me. I suppose the Red cooks of the palace have taken their leave.

Father slices a piece of chicken in two, the motion vicious and cutthroat. “It won’t last” is all he says, the words carefully chosen.

“What makes you think that?” Tolly, the treasured heir, gets the rare privilege of questioning Father without any threat of consequence.

That doesn’t mean Father will answer. He says nothing, continuing to chew the tasteless meat with a grimace.

I respond instead, trying to make my brother see what I do. “He’ll force Cal however he can.” I gesture at our father. “Prove that the country needs Red labor somehow.”

Dear Tolly furrows his brow, thoughtful. “It will still have Red labor. Reds need to eat too. With fair wages—”

“And who pays those wages?” Mother snaps, looking at Tolly like he’s some kind of imbecile. Odd for her. She dotes on him most of the time, more than she does on me. “Certainly not us.” She goes on and on, spearing her dinner with tight, jerking motions. The twitchy speed of a rabbit, maybe. “It isn’t right. It isn’t natural.”

I run the meager proclamations over in my head. Announced and effective immediately. Fair wages, freedom of movement, equal punishment and protection under Silver law, and— “What about conscription?” I ask aloud.

Our mother slaps her hand on the table. “Another folly. Conscription is a good incentive. Work or serve. Without the latter, why would anyone choose the former?”

It’s a circular conversation, and I breathe heavily through my nose. Across the table, Elane shoots me a warning glance. Obviously I don’t care for our lack of servants either, and the new world Cal wants to build will result in great upheaval, mostly for Silvers accustomed to our traditional place. It won’t last. It can’t last. Silvers won’t allow it. But they do in Montfort. Just like Davidson said. Their country was built from one like ours.

I remember something else he said, only to me, back in the mountains. He stood too close, whispered too quickly. But the shock of his words hit home. You are denied what you want because of what you are. A choice you never made, a piece of yourself you cannot change—and do not want to change.

I’ve never thought myself akin to Reds in any way. I’m a Silver-born lady, a princess made by the accomplishments of a powerful father. I was meant to be a queen. And but for the longing in my heart, the odd changes to my nature I’ve only begun to understand, I would be