Norta, Hall of the Sun

Natasha's POV:

I open my eyes to see a Security officer staring at me from the other side of the bars. His silver buttons shine in the low light, but they're nothing compared to the glare bouncing off his bald head.

I decided now would be a good time to play the part of the scared little red girl. "You have to tell my family where I am," I blurt out, sitting straight up.

"I don't have to do anything but take you upstairs," he replies, but without much bite. The officer is a pillar of calm. "Change your clothes."

Suddenly, I realize I still have a half-burned uniform hanging off me. The officer points at a neat pile of clothes near the bars. He turns his back, allowing me some semblance of privacy.

The clothes are plain but fine. A long-sleeved white shirt and black pants, both of them decorated with a single silver stripe down each side. There are shoes as well, black oiled boots that rise to my knees.

"All right," I grumble, fighting the last boot up my leg. As it slides into place, the officer turns around. I don't hear the jingle of keys, but then, I don't see a lock. How he plans to let me out off my doorless cage, I'm not sure.

But instead of opening some hidden gate, his hand twitches, and the metal bars bow open. Of course. The jailor would be a -

"Magnetron, yes," he says, seeing the expression on my face. "And in case you were wondering, the girl you nearly fried is a cousin."

I almost choke on the air in my lungs, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sorry." It sounds like a question.

"Be sorry you missed her," he replies without a hint of jest. "Evangeline is a bitch."

"Noted," I respond.

"I'm Lucas Samos," he says. "Follow me." I don't have to ask to know I have no other choice in the matter.

He leads me out of my cell and up a winding staircase, to no less than twelve Security officers. Without a word, they surround me in a well-practiced formation and force me along with them. Lucas stays by me, marching in time with the others. They keep their guns in hand, as if ready for battle. Something tells me the men aren't here to defend me but to protect everyone else.

When we reach the more beautiful upper levels, the glass walls are strangely black. Tinted, I tell myself, remembering what Cori said about the Hall of the Sun. The diamondglass can darken on the command of a shadow to hide what shouldn't be seen. Obviously, I must fall into that category.

I notice a red-haired officer that must be a shadow, waving her hand at every wall we pass. I quickly plaster an expression of awe on my face, remembering that I'm not supposed to have seen stuff like this before.

Lucas must notice, because he leans in and whispers, "She's a shadow, a bender of light."

There are cameras here as well. My skin crawls, feeling their electric gaze running over my bones. I have always been aware of the presence of security cameras, it was in my training to know how to spot them, but I have never felt their presence. Something in the shield has changed me. Or maybe it released something, revealing a part myself locked away for so long. What am I? echoes in my head again, more threatening than before.

Only when we pass through a monstrous set of doors does the electric sensation pass. The eyes cannot see me here. The chamber inside is the throne room. And directly across from me, his fiery gaze burning into mine, is Tibe, sitting on a diamondglass throne carved into an inferno. Behind him, a window full of daylight quickly fades to black. It might be the last sun I'll ever see.

Lucas and the other officers march me forward, but they don't stay for long. With nothing but a backward glance, Lucas leads the others out.

Tibe sits before me, Elara standing on his left, the princes on his right. I refuse to look at Cal, but I know he must be gawking at me. He has no idea that I know his mother or that she's alive. I keep my gaze on my new boots, focusing on my toes so I don't give over to the fear turning my body to lead.

"You will kneel," Elara murmurs. Her voice soft as velvet.

I should kneel, but my pride won't let me. Even here, in front of Silvers, in front of the king, my knees do not bend. "I will not," I say, finding the strength to look up.

"Do you enjoy your cell, girl?" Tibe says, his kingly voice filling the room. The threat in his words is plain as day, but I still stand. He cocks his head, staring at me like I'm an experiment to puzzle over. I wish I could tell him that Coriane was alive. Not only because it might save me from certain doom, but it would get rid of the awful woman who is currently sitting on the throne and the people of Norta would have a queen that they deserved. However, Fury had made it quite clear that I was to, under no circumstances, mention her to anyone.

"What do you want with me?" I ask.

Elara leans down next to him. "I told you, she's Red through and through - " But Tibe waves her off like he would a fly. She purses lips and draws back, hands clasped tightly together. Serves her right.

"What I want concerning you is impossible," Tibe snaps. His glare smolders, like he's trying to burn me up.

I remember the queen's words. "Well, I'm sorry you can't kill me."

The king chuckles. "They didn't say you were quick."

Dread floods through me. The longer I stayed here, the longer I had Elara's attention, the higher my chances of getting caught were.

Tibe throws down a stack of papers, all of them covered in writing. I recognize them as the files on my personal information, well, Mare's personal information to be exact. The top sheet has the usual information, including my name, birth date, parents, and the little brown smear that is my blood. My picture is there too, the one on my identification card. I stare down at myself, into bored eyes. How I wish I could jump into the photo, into the girl that was a spy with no attention-grabbing abilities.

"Mare Molly Barrow, born November seventeenth, 302 of the New Era, to Daniel and Ruth Barrow," Tibe recites from memory, laying what's supposed to be my life bare. "You have no occupation and are scheduled for conscription on your next birthday. You attend school sparingly, your academic test scores are low, and you have a list of offenses that would land you in prison in many cities. Thievery, smuggling, resisting arrest, to name a few. All together you are poor, rude, immoral, unintelligent, impoverished, bitter, stubborn, and a blight upon your village and my kingdom."

I stand there entirely shocked by his blunt words and the fact that they believed what the file said, Elara actually believed the false memories that I showed her. I don't argue though, according to the file I was given before I came here, he's entirely right. But saying otherwise would get me into more trouble than I was already in, it would also risk blowing my cover.

"And yet," he continues, rising to his feet. This close, I can see his crown is deathly sharp. The points can kill. "You are also something else," Yes, I am. Something else entirely. "Something I cannot fathom. You are Red and Silver both, a peculiarity with deadly consequences you cannot understand. So what am I to do with you?"

Is he asking me? "You could let me go. I wouldn't say a word. And for the record, I understand a lot more than you think I do," I respond calmly. The file said that I was supposedly unintelligent, not that I couldn't understand shit.

The queen's sharp laughter cuts me off. "And what the High Houses? Will they keep silent as well? Will they forget the little lightning girl in a red uniform?"

No. No one will.

"You know my advice, Tiberias," the queen adds, her eyes on the king. "And it will solve both our problems."

It must be bad advice, bad for me, because Cal clenches a fist. The movement draws my eye, and I finally look at him fully, the son of one of my best friends. He remains still, stoic and quiet, as I'm sure he's been trained to do, but fire burns behind his eyes. For a moment, he meets my gaze, but I look away.

"Yes, Elara," the king says, nodding at his wife. "We cannot kill you, Mare Barrow." Not yet hangs in the air. "So we are going to hide you in plain sight where we can watch you, protect you, and attempt to understand you."

The way his eyes gleam makes me feel like a meal about to be devoured.

"Father!" The word bursts from Cal, but his brother-the paler, leaner prince-grabs him by the arm, holding him back from protesting further. He has a calming effect, and Cal steps back in line.

Tiberias goes on, ignoring his son. "You are no longer Mare Barrow, a Red daughter of the Stilts."

Anger flared in me. He had no authority to give me a new fake identity, that power belonged to Fury and Fury alone. "Then who am I?" I manage to force out, reminding myself that they still had yet to figure out that Mare Barrow wasn't a real person.

"You are Mareena Titanos. Your father was Ethan Titanos, general of the Iron Legion, killed when you were an infant. A soldier, a Red man, took you for his own and raised you in the dirt, never telling you your true parentage. You grew up believing you were nothing, and now, thanks to chance, you are made whole again." I resist the urge to facepalm. There were so many ways this could go wrong, so many ways for someone to discover the truth. "You are Silver, a lady of a lost High House, a noble with great power, and one day, a princess of Norta."

Try as I might, I can't hold back a surprised yelp. "A Silver-a princess?"

My eyes betray me, flying to Cal. A princess must marry a prince.

"You will marry my son Maven, and you'll do it without putting a toe out of line."

I don't respond, I just stand there, speechless. In front of me, the younger prince looks equally confused, sputtering just as loudly as I want to. This time, it's Cal's turn to restrain him, though his eyes are on me.

The young prince manages to find his voice. "I don't understand," he blurts out, shrugging off Cal. He takes quick steps toward his father. "She's - why - ?" Usually I'd be offended, but I have to agree with the prince's reservations. The idea of having Elara as a mother-in-law didn't sound very appealing to me.

"Quiet," his mother snaps. "You will obey."

He glares at her, every inch the young son rebelling against his parents. But his mother hardens, and the prince backs down, knowing her wrath and power as well as I do.

My voice is faint, barely audible. "This seems a bit...much." There's simply no other way to describe it without criticizing the plan. "You don't want to make me a lady, much less a princess."

Tiberias's face cracks into a grim smile. Like the queen, his teeth are blindingly white. "Oh, but I do, my dear. For the first time in your rudimentary life, you have a purpose." The jab feels like a slap across the face. "Here we are, in the early stages of a badly timed rebellion, with terrorist groups or freedom fighters, or whatever the hell these idiotic Red fools call themselves, blowing things up in the name of equality."

"The Scarlet Guard," I offer. "They bombed -"

"The capital, yes." The king shrugs, scratching his neck.

My years of training have taught me many things. Who knows the most information, who won't notice you, and what liars look like. The king is a liar, I realize, watching as he forces another shrug. He's trying to be dismissive, and it's just not working. Something has him scared of the Scarlet Guard. Something much bigger than a few explosions.

"I missed the part where that's my problem."

"I'll tell you how it's your problem," he continues, leaning forward. "You might be able to help us stop there from being any more."

I scoff. "Wait, so you think that if I agree to this 'very foolproof' plan of yours and marry your son, the Scarlet Guard will just lay down their weapons, throw some shackles on their wrists and ankles, and join hands with their Silver overlords, singing kumbaya?" I stare at the king, daring him to answer the question. He doesn't. "Well, I hate to break it to you, Your Majesty, but rebellions don't give up that easily. If you had done your job, you would have recognized the potential threat and stopped it before it actually became one instead of ignoring it," I retort, my voice dripping with acid.

Tiberias stares at me, shocked that I would ever dare speak to him like that. Not even Elara knows how to respond.

After about a minute of awkward silence, the king finally finds his voice. "It'll work," he says faintly.

"By marrying - sorry what's your name again?"

The younger prince's cheeks go white in a blush. "My name is Maven," he says, his voice soft and quiet. Like Cal and his father, his hair is glossy black, but the similarities end there. While they are broad and muscled, Maven is lean, with eyes like clear water. "And I still don't understand."

Cal cuts into an explanation immediately. "What Father is trying to say is that she represents an opportunity for us -"

"No shit," I interrupt.

Cal ignores me. "- If the Reds see her a Silver by blood but Red by nature, raised up with us, they can be placated. It's like an old fairy tale, a commoner becoming the princess. She's their champion. They can look to her instead of terrorists." And then, softer, but more important than anything else: "She's a distraction."

But this isn't a fairy tale, or even a dream. This is a nightmare. I'm being locked away for the rest of my life, forced into being someone else. Into being a puppet. A show to keep people happy, quiet, and trampled.

"And if we get the story right, the High Houses will be satisfied too. You're the lost daughter of a war hero. What better honor can we give you?"

"And if I refuse?"

"This isn't a request, Lady Mareena Titanos," Tiberias says. He uses my new name, my new title. "You will go through with this, and you will do it properly."

Queen Elara turns her pale eyes on me. "You will live here as is the custom for royal brides. Every day will be scheduled at my discretion and you will be tutored in everything and anything possible to make you" - she searches for the word, chewing on her lip - "suitable. You will be scrutinized. From now on you live on the edge of a knife. One false step, one wrong word, and you will suffer for it."

My throat tightens, like I can feel the chains the king and queen are wrapping around me. "Fine."

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Author's Note:

Thanks for all the support. I own nothing but the plot, all rights go to Victoria Aveyard and the MCU.