War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,206

heading for the Royal Court. I can barely look at the structure, one of many ringing the Square.

My father was crowned there, beneath a glittering dome. And Maven was married in the court some months ago.

Mare was with him then.

She won’t be here now.

The loss of her still hurts, a deep wound, but it’s missing the same edge as before. We both knew what we were doing, what our choices would be when the time came to choose. I only wish we’d had a few more days, a few more hours.

Now she’s gone. With Maven again.

I should be angry. It’s a betrayal by any other name. She stole a valuable prisoner from me. His execution would have been an easy and almost bloodless way to reunite my kingdom. But somehow I can’t feel anything but annoyance. Partly because I’m not surprised. And mostly because Maven is far beyond my reach.

He’s her problem now.

At least I won’t have to be the one to kill him.

It’s the thought of a coward, something I was never allowed to be. I think it anyway.

I hope he dies without pain.

The knock at the door gets me up faster than I want, my legs unfolding beneath me. I wrench it open before Julian or Nanabel steps inside, hoping to do just one last thing on my own. I’m not a fool. I know what they are to me, besides my last remaining family. Advisers, mentors. Rivals to each other. I only hope they haven’t come together, to poison my peace with their competition.

It’s just Julian waiting, to my relief.

He offers a twitch of a smile and spreads his arms wide, showing off his new clothing, specially made for the coronation. His colors dominate, the dusty yellow-gold of House Jacos forming the base of his trim jacket and pants. But his lapels are bloodred, my own color. Displaying his allegiance not just to House Calore, but to me.

It forces me to think of what he’s done in my name. Traded a man’s life for my brother, and maybe another life too. I haven’t forgotten. His scheming, as well as my grandmother’s, is never far from my mind. It makes me wary, even of him.

Is this what being king is? Trusting no one?

I force a laugh to disguise my unease. “You look good,” I tell him. It isn’t like Julian to be so put together, nearly handsome in his lean form.

My uncle steps inside. “This old thing?” he offers with a dry smile. “What about you? Are you ready?”

I gesture to my own clothes. The now-familiar bloodred suit edged in black, with silver adornments and enough medals to sink a Lakelander ship. I haven’t donned the matching cape yet. It’s too heavy, and kind of stupid-looking.

“I’m not talking about the clothes, Cal,” Julian says.

My cheeks flush. I turn quickly, trying to hide any sign of weakness or trepidation. “I figured you weren’t.”

“Well?” he asks, taking a step closer.

I do as I’ve always been taught. I hold my ground. “Father told me once there’s no such thing as being ready. If you think you are, you aren’t.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you look like you might escape out a window.”

“Comforting.”

“Your father was nervous too,” Julian says softly. Tentative, he puts a hand on my shoulder, his touch a soft weight.

My tongue sticks in my mouth, unable to form the words I want to say.

But Julian is smart enough to know what I want to ask. “Your mother told me,” my uncle explains. “She said he’d wished he had more time.”

More time.

I feel like Julian just hit me in the chest with a hammer.

“Don’t we all?”

He shrugs in his usual, frustrating way. Like he knows more than I do, which I suspect he does. “For different reasons, I think,” he says. “Strange, isn’t it? No matter how different we might be, we all end up wanting the same thing.” I avoid his eyes when they rise to mine. They look far too much like the eyes in my mother’s painting. “But for all the wanting, all the hoping, all the dreaming we might do—”

All I can do is nod, cutting him off. “I don’t have the luxury of that anymore.”

“Dreaming?” He blinks, perplexed. But also intrigued. My uncle Julian delights in puzzles, and he looks on me as one. “You’re about to be a king, Cal. You could dream with your eyes open, and build what you wish.”

Again I feel the hammer blow. My chest aches with the