War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,21

I am quietly thankful. I know what my duty is as a Silver, as a queen, as a bridge between our countries. It’s his duty too, a burden we are both supposed to bear. But if he won’t push the subject of heirs, I’m certainly not going to. For one thing, I’m only nineteen. Of age, surely, but I have plenty of time. And for another—if Maven fails, if his brother wins back the crown, I won’t have a reason to stay. Without children, I’ll be free to come home. I don’t want any kind of anchor to Norta if I don’t need one.

Our gowns trail, leaving wet paths along the wide street abutting the water’s edge. Sunlight gleams off the white stone. My eyes flit back and forth, taking in the sight of a summer day in my old capital. I wish I could stop as I used to. Perch on the low wall dividing the avenue from the bay. Practice my abilities with lazy attention. Maybe even tempt Tiora into a little friendly competition. But there isn’t time, nor opportunity. I don’t know how long we’ll stay, or how long I have with what remains of my family. All I can do is stretch the moments. Memorize them. Tattoo them on my mind like the swirling waves inked on my back.

“I’m the first Nortan king to set foot here in a century.”

Maven’s voice is low, cold, the snapping threat of winter in spring. After so many weeks in his court, I’m beginning to learn his moods, studying him as I did his country. The king of Norta is not a kind creature, and while my survival is necessary for our alliance, my comfort probably isn’t. I try to be in his good graces, and so far it seems easy enough. He doesn’t mistreat me. In fact, he doesn’t treat me to much of anything at all. Staying out of his way takes little effort in the sprawl of Whitefire Palace.

“Over a century, if my memory serves,” I answer, hiding my surprise at being spoken to. “Tiberias the Second was the last Calore king to make a state visit. Before your ancestors and mine began the war.”

He hisses at the name. Tiberias. Resentments between siblings are not unfamiliar to me. There are many things I envy about Tiora. But I’ve never experienced anything like the deep and all-encompassing jealousy Maven feels toward his exiled brother. It runs bone-deep. Every mention of him, even in official capacity, provokes him like the jab of a knife. I suppose the ancestral name is one more thing for him to covet. One more mark of a true king that he will never possess.

Perhaps that’s why he pursues Mare Barrow with such dogged focus. The stories seem true enough. I’ve seen proof of them myself. She’s not just a powerful newblood, the strange kind of Red with abilities like our own, but the exiled prince loves her. A Red girl. Having met her, I can almost understand why. Even imprisoned, she fought. She resisted. She was a puzzle I would have enjoyed piecing together. And, it seems, she’s a trophy for Calore brothers to scrap over. Nothing compared to the crown, but still something for jealous, feuding boys to tug back and forth like dogs with a bone.

“I can arrange a tour of the capital if Your Majesty would like,” I continue. Though spending more time than I must with Maven is hardly ideal, it would mean more time in the city. “The temples are renowned throughout the kingdom for their splendor. Your presence would certainly honor the gods.”

Feeding his ego doesn’t work, as it usually does with nobles and courtiers. His lip curls. “I try to keep my focus on things that actually exist, Iris. Like the war we’re both trying to win.”

Suit yourself. I swallow the response with cool detachment. Nonbelievers are not my problem. I can’t open their eyes, and it isn’t my job to do so. Let him meet the gods in death and see how wrong he was before he enters a hell of his own making. They’ll drown him for eternity. That is the punishment for burners in the afterlife. Just as flames would be my own damnation.

“Of course.” I dip my head, feeling the cold jewels on my brow. “The army will go to Citadel of the Lakes when they arrive, for healing and rearmament. We should be there to meet them.”

He nods. “We should.”

“And there is