The princes match their parents in different outfits of red and black, both decorated with military medals. Cal stands to his father’s right, his face still and impassive. If he knows who he’s going to marry, he doesn’t look happy about it. Maven’s there too, on his mother’s left, his face a storm cloud of emotions. The younger brother is not as good as Cal at hiding his feelings.
At least I won’t have to deal with a good liar.
“The right of Queenstrial is always a joyous event, representing the future of our great kingdom and the bonds that keep us strongly united in the face of our enemies,” the king says, addressing the crowd. They don’t see me yet, standing on the edge of the room, looking down on them all. “But as you saw today, Queenstrial has brought forth more than just the future queen.”
He turns to Elara, who clasps the king’s hand in her own with a dutiful smile. Her shift from devilish villain to blushing queen is astounding. “We all remember our bright hope against the darkness of war, our captain, our friend, the General Ethan Titanos,” Elara says.
People murmur over the room, in fondness or sadness. Even the Samos patriarch, Evangeline’s cruel father, bows his head. “He led the Iron Legion to victory, pushing back the lines of war that had stood for nearly a hundred years. The Lakelanders feared him; our soldiers loved him.” I strongly doubt a single Red soldier loved their Silver general. “Lakelander spies killed our beloved friend Ethan, sneaking across the lines to destroy our one hope for peace. His wife, the Lady Nora, a good and just woman, died with him. On that fateful day sixteen years ago, House Titanos was lost. Friends were taken from us. Our blood was spilled.”
Silence settles on the room as the queen pauses to dab at her eyes, wiping away what I know are fake, forced tears. A few of the girls, participants in Queenstrial, fidget in their seats. They don’t care about a dead general, and neither does the queen, not really. This is about me, about somehow slipping a Red girl into a crown without anyone noticing. It’s a magic trick, and the queen is a skilled magician.
Her eyes find me, blazing up to my spot at the top of the stairs, and everyone follows her gaze. Some look confused, while others recognize me from this morning. And a few stare at my dress. They know the colors of House Titanos better than I do and understand who I am. Or at least who I’m pretending to be.
“This morning we saw a miracle. We watched a Red girl fall into the arena like a bolt of lightning, wielding power she should not have.” More murmurs rise, and a few Silvers even stand. The Samos girl looks furious, her black eyes fixed on me.
“The king and I interviewed the girl extensively, trying to discover how she came to be.” Interview is a funny way to describe scrambling my brain. “She isn’t Red, but she is still a miracle. My friends, please welcome back to us Lady Mareena Titanos, daughter of Ethan Titanos. Lost and now found.”
With a twitch of her hand, she beckons me closer. I obey.
I descend the stairs to stilted applause, more focused on not tripping. But my feet are sure, my face still, as I plunge toward hundreds of faces wondering, staring, suspecting. Lucas and my guards don’t follow, staying on the landing. I’m alone in front of these people once again, and I’ve never felt so bare, even with the layers of silk and powder. Again, I’m grateful for all the makeup. It’s my shield, between them and the truth of who I am. A truth I don’t even understand.
The queen gestures to an open seat in the front row of the crowd, and I make my way to it. The Queenstrial girls watch me, wondering why I’m here and why I’m so important all of a sudden. But they’re only curious, not angry. They look at me with pity, empathizing as best they can with my sad story. Except Evangeline Samos. When I finally get to my seat, she’s sitting right next to it, her eyes glaring into mine. Gone are her leather clothes and iron studs; now she wears a dress of interlocked metal rings. From the way her fingers tighten, I can tell she wants nothing more than to wrap her hands around my throat.
“Saved from her parents’ fate, Lady Mareena was taken from the front and brought to a Red village not ten miles from here,” the king continues, taking over so he can tell the grand twist in my tale. “Raised by Red parents, she worked as a Red servant. And until this morning, she believed she was one of them.” The accompanying gasp makes my teeth grind. “Mareena was a diamond in the rough, working in my own palace, the daughter of my late friend under my nose. But no more. To atone for my ignorance, and to repay her father and her house for their great contributions to the kingdom, I would like to take this moment to announce the joining of House Calore and the resurrected House Titanos.”
Another gasp, this one from the girls of Queenstrial. They think I’m taking Cal away from them. They think I’m their competition. I raise my eyes to the king, quietly pleading for him to continue before one of the girls murders me.
I can almost feel Evangeline’s cold metal cutting into me. Her fingers lace together tightly, knuckles white as she resists the urge to skin me in front of everyone. On her other side, her brooding father puts a hand on her arm to still her.
When Maven steps forward, the tension in the room deflates. He stutters briefly, tripping over the words he’s been taught, but he finds his voice. “Lady Mareena.”
Trying my best not to shake, I rise to my feet and face him.
“In the eyes of my royal father and the noble court, I would ask for your hand in marriage. I pledge myself to you, Mareena Titanos. Will you accept?”
My heart pounds as he speaks. Though his words sound like a question, I know I have no choice in my answer. No matter how much I want to look away, my eyes stay on Maven. He gives me the smallest of encouraging smiles. I wonder to myself which girl would’ve been chosen for him.
Who would I have chosen? If none of this had happened, if Kilorn’s master never died, if Gisa’s hand was never broken, if nothing ever changed. If. It’s the worst word in the world.
Conscription. Survival. Green-eyed children with my quick feet and Kilorn’s last name. That future was almost impossible before; now it’s nonexistent.
“I pledge myself to you, Maven Calore,” I say, hammering the last nails into my coffin. My voice quivers, but I don’t stop. “I accept.”
It carries such finality, slamming a door on the rest of my life. I feel like collapsing but somehow manage to sit back down gracefully.
Maven slinks back to his seat, grateful to be out of the spotlight. His mother pats him on the arm in reassurance. She smiles softly, just for him. Even Silvers love their children. But she turns cold again as Cal stands, her smile disappearing in a heartbeat.
The air seems to go out of the room as every girl inhales, waiting for his decision. I doubt Cal had any say in choosing a queen, but he plays his part well, just like Maven, just like I’m trying to do. He smiles brightly, flashing even white teeth that make a few girls sigh, but his warm eyes are terribly solemn.
“I am my father’s heir, born to privilege and power and strength. You owe me your allegiance, just as I owe you my life. It is my duty to serve you and my kingdom as best I can—and beyond.” He’s rehearsed his speech, but the fervor Cal has can’t be faked. He believes in himself, that he’ll be a good king—or die trying. “I need a queen who will sacrifice just as much as I will, to maintain order, justice, and balance.”
The Queenstrial girls lean forward, eager to hear his next words. But Evangeline doesn’t move, an obscene smirk twisting her face. House Samos looks equally calm. Her brother, Ptolemus, even stifles a yawn. They know who has been chosen.