Red Queen

Reyna had thought of all the worst ways this could go wrong. She could be dragged to the throne room for an audience with Her Majesty, before getting locked up in a dungeon. Her father had taught her that the scariest monarchs weren't always the most ruthless, but often the most naive. Those were the ones who ended up making senseless judgments that would take great dynasties with them to hell. In Reyna's head, Calanthe was that kind of monarch.

As soon as Reyna crossed the castle portcullis, two royal guards were appointed to escort her to see the Queen. She was treated more like a guest than a wanted subject, which made her fear for what was waiting for her in the throne room. They'd confiscated her sword and dagger the moment she'd unmounted her horse, so if Calanthe's executioner was waiting behind the door to surprise her with an axe, then all she could do was pray that he would miss. It was a stupid scenario and politically impossible, but she doubted Calanthe knew anything about politics.

"Your Royal Majesty," the footman announced as the guards open the giant doors, "Princess Reyna of Isolde."

The throne room was brightly lit by multiple floor-to-ceiling windows on each side, marble pillars holding up the ceiling as it arched high above. Reyna raced through her memories back to the last time she'd been here. She'd been a child running barefoot down this same aisle, up the steps to her uncle's throne, where he sat with a shiny crown on top of his grey head. He'd let her sit on his lap as they'd listened to music and watched the people dance all around. It had been magical.

This room looked almost the same as the one in her memory, but at the same time, so much different. They had removed all royal gold decorations and replaced them with black curtains to mourn the death of the King. The whole kingdom had to wear black. The whole kingdom except for its new ruler.

The top of the velvet-carpeted stairs was occupied by two thrones; the smaller one was empty as its previous master was now seated in the one for the King. Calanthe, with Edgar's gold crown on top of her pretty head, was holding a sceptre and wearing a red dress, the full skirt of which was so large it covered half of the throne.

Reyna had heard that Calanthe was beautiful, but standing before Theros' new Queen, she must say that Calanthe's beauty was one of a kind. So full of rage, yet so vulnerable. Calanthe didn't look like a queen; she looked like a sad girl who was forced to wear the crown. After all, Calanthe was just Egon's age. Rowan's age.

Just the sound of his name in Reyna's head caused her icy heart to burn. The fire was immediately put out when Calanthe tapped the sceptre on the stone floor. The white-bearded man standing on her right, whom Reyna hadn't noticed until now, bowed his head as if Calanthe had said something to him, then he turned to Reyna, his frown rather fierce.

"Princess Reyna of Isolde, I suppose you have forgotten courtesy, as you have yet paid respect to Queen Calanthe. After all, you are a guest in Her Majesty's court."

"My apology, Your Majesty." Reyna curtsied despite herself. "I was not aware that I was a guest."

"How so, Princess?" Calanthe finally spoke, her voice was loud and challenging.

Hands clasped behind her back, shoulders back, Reyna returned the Queen an equally intense gaze. "You have made me a wanted subject and offered a monetary prize for whoever would turn me in. I felt more like an enemy than a guest. But perhaps Theros has conformed with a new kind of hospitality since the King passed away."

"Insolent girl!" The sceptre hit the floor so loud the sound echoed within these high walls. Calanthe's beautiful face was taut with anger as she raised her voice, "How dare you stand before a monarch and speak in that tone?"

Reyna balled her fists. "How dare you wear red while the entire kingdom is in mourning?"

She heard the clinking of armours as the guards shifted from their posts, waiting for an order from their queen to take Reyna away. Chin lifted high, Reyna pretended not to know of her offence and stared back at the Queen, as if challenging Calanthe to behead her if she could.

"The dead are dead. The living must go on," Calanthe said with an expression as cold as ice. "After all, sadness is weakness. I would rather be hated than pitied."

Reyna almost said that she felt both hatred and pity for the Queen, but she kept that to herself. "Sadness is not weakness," she said. "Those who accept sadness but not surrender to it are the strongest people in the world."

"Don't be arrogant, Princess." A hidden smile was detected in Calanthe's mocking tone.

Reyna took a breath and unclenched her fists. "When a man speaks so highly of himself, he's called brave. When a woman does so, she's arrogant." She arched an eyebrow. "As a woman yourself, Your Majesty, you ought to know that."

The old man – who Reyna believed was the Lord Chancellor – opened his mouth to tell her off, but was interrupted by Calanthe's raised hand. She gave her sceptre to her footman who accepted it with both hands. Reyna stood still as the Queen rose up to her full height and descended the steps toward Reyna. Calanthe appeared smaller and less intimidating than she had on the throne. She motioned for the guards, the footman, and the Lord Chancellor to leave the two of them alone.

"But Your Majesty..." said the Lord Chancellor, seemingly reluctant as his eyes were fixed on Reyna.

"Don't worry, my lord," said the Queen over her shoulder. "She doesn't have any weapon."

Reyna flashed a mischievous smile at the old man, meaning to say she didn't need any weapon to take down the Queen, especially while Calanthe was wearing this ridiculously enormous dress that she could barely move in. The Lord Chancellor frowned ferociously at Reyna but dared not to disobey the Queen's order.

The doors were shut, and the throne room grew more tranquil than before.

"I know you know I didn't murder my uncle," Reyna blurted out, her eyebrows drawn as she watched Calanthe slowly circle around her, eyeing her up and down.

"I don't know if you'd done it yourself, Princess. But you must have taken part in the murder. After all, the North has been our only enemy for centuries. Even while my dear sister-in-law was still alive, the alliance between our kingdoms felt rather forced."

Reyna had to refrain from rolling her eyes. "The grudge between our houses has nothing to do with my personal feelings for my uncle. I loved him dearly. He was family."

Calanthe stopped in front of Reyna once again, her fingers laced together resting flat against her stomach. "But your brother had always hated my dear Edgar. Are you telling me you'd betray your brother, your King, for the South?"

"I'm not here to discuss the matter of war–"

"Ah." Calanthe lifted a finger. "Who said anything about war? Or is that the reason you're here? To threaten me and declare war if I don't agree to whatever terms you're about to offer?"

"Quite the opposite actually," Reyna calmly replied. "If you accused me of the murder of my uncle, then you're falling right into Egon's trap. The North would never start a war with the South for no reason." I'm that reason, she meant.

"How do I know for sure you weren't sent here to say these things?" Calanthe stuck up her tiny nose. "For all I know, you could be your brother's pawn."

"My brother hates me," Reyna said with a straight face since it was a fact she'd learned to accept.

Calanthe nodded understandingly, but Reyna knew she had completely misinterpreted Reyna's intentions. "You ran away with a man, didn't you? How courtly," Calanthe said, her lips arched in a ridiculing manner. "With that, I have more reasons to not trust anything you're saying, Princess."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty–" Reyna's voice was rough, but Calanthe didn't let her finish.

"Your brother must have something against you. Perhaps...your lover?" The word stabbed Reyna in the guts, and she believed Calanthe could see it. A smirk stretched the Queen's dark red lips. "You Callistos have so many flaws. The biggest one yet was that you don't usually use your heart, and when you do, you let it control you." Calanthe stopped shoulder to shoulder with Reyna, her face so close Reyna could feel the Queen breathing down her neck. "I heard your father died because of a broken heart. Will you die the same way, too? That, I'd love to find out."

Reyna bit her lip as she clenched her fists, fighting the temptation of yanking Calanthe's shiny curls and slamming her to the floor.

"I could offer you a deal," Calanthe said, pulling away. "Be our ally. Tell my court your brother was the one who'd murdered the King, and you'll be alive to see your lover again. After all, he's a Southerner, isn't he? If you're telling the truth, that your brother hates you, your people probably hate you, too. So you have nothing to hold onto in that rotten kingdom. I take the North, avenge our beloved Edgar, and you'll finally have the life you want, with someone you truly love."

A traitorous thought crossed Reyna's mind, and she almost told Calanthe exactly what Calanthe wanted to hear. But then her mouth clamped shut and she stared at her feet. She would choose Rowan above everything else, but if to be with him was to sacrifice the lives of thousands of innocent people, she couldn't do it. Rowan would never let her do it.

"I'd like to refuse that nonsensical offer, Your Majesty." She wasn't thinking when she said it with the most condescending tone, but she didn't regret it. "Unlike you, I cannot accuse anyone of murder without any proof."

Calanthe gave a mirthless grin. "Then you must not leave my court until the trial and hope we'll find proof that you didn't do it. Guards!"

"I'm not your enemy, Your Majesty," Reyna said as the guards came to take her away. "You're making a big mistake."

"Brave of you to tell a queen she's making a mistake," Calanthe said over her shoulders and proceeded to ascend the stairs back to her throne. "Escort the princess to her room," she said, sitting down. "We'll treat her as a guest until the trial."

"You don't hold people hostage before finding proof that they'd committed a crime," Reyna said when the guards were right behind her, so close she felt the coolness from their armours against her bare arms.

Calanthe looked her directly in the eye, and for one moment, the Queen forgot she was supposed to show no weakness. "Your family murdered mine, you whore," she hissed, her voice trembling with dark emotions. "You and your brother will pay for the crimes your foolish father had committed."

Reyna thinned her lips to hold back the curses piling on her tongue, then she let the guards take her away.

.

.

.

"Rowan, you need to leave the house," his sister had said. So he'd listened and left the house.

It'd been a week since he'd lost Reyna and he'd been doing nothing since. He felt numb all over from lying in one place and only getting up whenever he must. He hated this. This whole 'after her' bullshit. Sometimes he hated it so much he just wanted to rip his heart out so he wouldn't have to feel anything again.

He couldn't even allow himself to think about what she might be doing now, because whenever he started to form a single thought about it, it ended up being bad, terrible, the worst. For all he knew, they might be torturing her. Then he reminded himself that it was better for her to be in Calanthe's court than in her brother's. Calanthe wasn't the best queen, but she wasn't cruel.

Anyway, tonight, he went out.

There was this tavern that he and Stefan used to visit when they'd been young boys. After the war, he'd come on his own, sometimes with Kenny, and the people there didn't hate him so that'd be a good start. He mostly fooled the rich, never the poor. So it was better to always surround himself with the ones from the lowest class.

When he'd left his house, he'd brought with him a bottle of ale he'd stolen from the sisters' cottage, from Mary, after he and she had done the nasty thing he couldn't even think about without wanting to vomit. He should have been a better person and appreciated every moment he'd had with Reyna. Most of the things he could recall had been awful. Sadly how those were the memories he had to cling to now that she was gone.

Anger and sadness made him bitter and dramatic. Reyna had told him so.

Before stepping into the tavern, he met a lady who'd arrived in a carriage. She looked like one of those rich wives who had too much time and money on their hands, so they went to these poorer areas to discover what it felt like to truly 'live'.

Well, bad news for you, lady. It's not all that great. Rowan would trade lives with her any day. Rich people like her could be invited to royal balls and such. If possible, he could borrow her looks to get into one of those parties where Reyna might be and watch her from afar, just to make sure she was happy and well.

Anyway, no more Reyna. Not tonight.

He pitied the rich lady, but when she flashed a shy smile at him, he saw an opportunity. Before he knew it, he'd started a conversation with her, lied that he wasn't from here, just a merchant passing by, and offered to buy her a drink. He hoped to have stripped off all those flashy jewellery on her flawless body in some cheap inn and left before dawn.

As he escorted the stranger into the tavern, Reyna's ring on his finger sparkled in the candlelight as if reminding him of what she'd said before she'd left, about wanting him to be a better man. He pushed those words to the back of his mind. What was the point of being a better man if it wasn't for her?

He drank and drank and realized the lady was a better drinker than he'd thought. Most of the ones he'd got involved with in the past would have dragged him to their carriage already. This one had been ranting on and on about how much she hated her husband, and that she'd only married him because her family had wanted her to. Rowan poured her some more ale so she would stop talking; if he felt sorry for her, he wouldn't be able to steal from her.

For a second, in his mind, Reyna had managed to dig her way up and turned into the lady sitting right in front of him. Reyna would look good in these clothes. Because they were more fitting for a princess. Although he bet the dresses she wore were a thousand times more costly and beautiful. He would never get to see her in them.

The lady opened her mouth to speak. And Reyna disappeared.

As the tavern got more and more crowded, the lady paid for the drinks, tapped Rowan on the shoulder, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. She said she'd wait for him in her carriage and go wherever he wanted to go next. Watching her strut back to the front door, he could only imagine one place he wanted to go. Home. With his Reyna-scented pillow. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he'd been pathetically in love with her.

Discontented and a bit woozy, he got up and gulped the ale from the bottle he'd brought. For a reason he couldn't explain, it tasted better than regular ale. The only thing he didn't regret about that night with Mary had been drinking this.

"Have you heard? They finally caught that princess."

A high-pitched voice caught his attention. He whipped around to find a group of fat old men sitting around a small table. Their faces were as red as the drinks in the cups, and they were laughing too loudly, probably too drunk to care about anyone else.

"She killed her uncle," one said. "I hope they hang her. The bitch will go to hell for her sins."

"I heard she ran away with a prisoner," another chimed in. "She must be a dirty little whore who loves poor men's cocks."

"Bet she'd suck my cock. I'd fuck her real good."

Blood rose up to Rowan's face as he squeezed his fists too tight they were shaking. He was just about to launch himself at them when a small hand locked around his wrist. He turned fast, about to fight, but then the flicker of fear in Kenny's brown eyes froze him to the spot. He let her tug him through the crowded tavern, his feet following hers without knowing why. The next moment, they were outside the back door. Though the night air chilled his skin, he felt hot from inside. Just like that night with Mary.

What was happening to him? His heartbeat was as loud as thunder. The scenes around him started spinning. He leaned back against the brick wall. The moonlight was too bright, the muffled voices from inside were too loud. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long breath of fresh air to cool his lungs. When he blinked and his sight was clear, he found Kenny staring at him.

"I saw what you were doing in there," she huffed. "What happened? Where's Rain?"

His heart stopped at the sound of her name. It wasn't really her name. Still...

She was what he saw. She was there in front of him. He clutched her shoulders and yanked her into his arms. She seemed startled but didn't push him away, so he gripped her tighter.

"What's wrong?" She sounded different, but every single muscle on his body was aching for her, he couldn't care less.

"Please come home with me," he said.

"All right," she agreed, stroking his back. "Everything will be okay, Crow."

.

.

.

When Rowan woke up, he was almost blinded by the light. He shielded his eyes with one arm and tried to move his aching muscles in order to sit up. It felt like someone was pounding on the back of his head. His skull hurt so badly he wanted to smash it like a pumpkin.

Before he could wonder if this was a dream, reality, or after-death, he saw Jenny sitting on the mattress right beside him, her legs folded, her chin in her hand.

"What happened to me?" he asked, kneading his temples to ease the headache.

Jenny screwed up her face in question. "Don't you remember anything from last night?"

"I was at a tavern," he said to his lap.

"You were going to steal from an innocent lady, Rowan."

Though he wasn't looking at Jenny, he could imagine how sad and disappointed she looked. He remembered it now. Well, most of it. He'd been at a tavern, with a rich lady, and then there were these men, and then...

"I thought you wouldn't do it again," Jenny interrupted his thought. "After you got caught–"

"I got caught for saving a woman from evil men who tried to rape her. I never got caught for stealing and cheating," he snapped. "The rich aren't innocent, you know. All the money they got was from exploiting people like us."

When Jenny exhaled sharply into her palm, he expected her to get up and storm out of the room. But then she said, "If Kenny hadn't shown up, you would have got into a fight, Rowan. Someone in that tavern could have died last night."

Rowan felt a chill coursing right through him. "Kenny?"

Jenny nodded, the corners of her lips turned down. "She brought you back here and left right away. You should apologise. She was very mad."

"What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

He wasn't sure if he did. He didn't even know what had been a dream and what had been real.

"You said you loved her," Jenny cried out. "And you called her Peach and that was awful, Rowan. You know she still loves you."

Rowan shook his head rapidly. Impossible, he thought. He'd seen Reyna in the flesh. It'd felt so real that he wasn't sure if it'd been a dream. One moment it'd been Kenny, then the next he'd found himself hugging Reyna.

Just like that night with Mary.

"The ale!" he exclaimed, making Jenny flinch. "It was a love potion. It made me see things. It made me see her. Those...those sisters have...m-magic powers. They're real witches."

"Witches?! Heaven's sakes! What are you–"

"I have to go."

"Go where?" Jenny shot up to her feet and chased him out of the room. He was about to grab his sword when she jumped right in front of him, arms spread, panting. "You're not going anywhere, Rowan."

"I have to," he breathed heavily, holding her shoulders. "I have to...I have to find the sisters. They can save Peach. They saved her once. They'd do it again."

"Stop!" Jenny shouted, which wasn't like her at all. He stiffened when she crashed into his, her arms tightened around his waist. "I'm not letting you go again, Rowan," she cried into his chest. "I know you don't care about your life but Ma and I do. If you leave now, chances are you won't ever come back. The princess chose her destiny and you need to let her go. You're hurting yourself and all the people who love you."

"What if I tell you I must go?" he asked, tears stinging his eyes. "I can't sit here and...and let her suffer on her own."

"It's her fate, not yours," Jenny trembled as she pulled back to meet his eyes. "You have to choose, Rowan. Her or us."

"Jenny, please..."

"Her or us, Rowan," Jenny thundered, her eyes glossy and sharp. He regarded her face for a long moment while a thousand thoughts raced through his mind.

Jenny wasn't wrong. If he died from trying to help Reyna, it wouldn't matter to him, but there'd be no one to look after his family. They would be miserable. He'd promised to let Reyna go and be a better man, so would she be happy if he went against her words, even if it was to save her? Of course not. She might even despise him. She didn't have a family, and he almost abandoned his.

"All right," he told his sister, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. "I'll stay. But can you help me with something?"

"Anything, as long as you stay," she said with a faltering smile.

"Can you find someone to deliver a letter for me? I'll write to those sisters in the woods and ask for their help. That's...the least I can do for Peach."

"I believe Caleb knows someone who can help you," Jenny said as she placed her hands over his and squeezed. From the look she was giving him, he believed there was something more. "Talk to Kenny, Rowan," she said at last. "If you care for her, she deserves to know how you truly feel."

"We've already had that talk."

"When you admitted that you were in love with Reyna?"

"I never–She knew anyway. I-I think she knew," he stuttered.

Jenny pursed her lips, seemingly not so pleased to hear that. "You can't expect her to just know what's in your heart without telling her. If you can't love someone in return, the least you could do was be honest about it. Talk to her, will you?"

Jenny raised her eyebrows pleadingly. So Rowan sighed as he gave a nod. "Okay," he said. "I'll do it. I'll talk to her."

.

.

.

Reyna had been here for a week or more; she wasn't sure. She only knew she was going insane. The one person she'd interacted with was the maid assigned to clean her and bring her food. This felt like her childhood all over again. At least when her father had ordered to have her locked up, she'd known she'd be free when the time was done.

This morning, after she'd got dressed, the door swung open and it wasn't the maid who came in. The footman she'd seen in the throne room cleared his throat as he stopped in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back. "Princess Reyna," he announced. "You've been requested for an audience with Her Royal Majesty, immediately."

Two possibilities:

1. Calanthe had finally changed her mind.

2. Egon was here.

However, the latter seemed more likely.

From what she'd heard from the guards attending the door, Egon had been on his way to Theros since he'd received the news of their uncle's death. He must have done it. Somehow he'd created all this chaos and everyone was playing the part he'd assigned for them. Reyna couldn't think of any way this could get worse than this, but she knew better than to build her hopes up.

"Has the Queen changed her mind?" she asked the little man as the guards escorted them across the courtyard. He didn't answer and continued walking ahead of her. Watching his tiny head bobbing as he went got on her nerves. She sucked in a breath and raised her voice, "Or is my brother here to see me?"

The man let out a huff but didn't face her or slow down. "You ask too many questions," he grumbled. "Just wait until you see Her Majesty."

"Why can't you tell me now? What's with this dramatic suspense anyway?"

When he finally slowed down and looked at her over his shoulder, it was to shoot her a disapproving glare. If it weren't for these giants in armours stalking behind them, she would grab his tiny head and bang it against the wall. It was weird how this was the normal way the members of the gentry treated people below them (she was certainly not below him, but Southerners had always looked down on her people), yet she hadn't noticed it before because she hadn't met kind people like Rowan and his family.

His face flashed through her mind and vanished the moment they entered a long corridor leading to the throne room. They passed a group of men dressed in all black. They might be the Queen's courtiers. Why were they wearing those mysterious black cloaks with giant hoods that covered their faces? And where had she met them before?

In a matter of seconds, when they crossed paths, one of them lifted his head to gaze straight into her eyes. She nearly gasped out loud as she snapped her head back to watch him walk away. Those scars on his mad face. She'd only got a glimpse of it, but she knew she was the one who'd left those marks. And he was the one who'd attacked her.

She lurched forward in the opposite direction, but the guards caught her arms and twisted them behind her back to drag her toward the throne room. She tried to break free but they were much stronger, it was no use. She would have managed to escape and catch up with those men if she had her sword.

Why were they in Calanthe's court?

Had one of them murdered her uncle?

Could Calanthe be the one behind all this? What were her motives anyway? Revenge wasn't worth committing this gruesome crime. Especially when uncle Edgar had saved her life and loved her unconditionally.

"Your Royal Majesty, Princess Reyna is here."

Suddenly, nothing made sense anymore.