Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
A/N: So this book is called Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard. The scene I am rewriting is originally in the main character Mare Barrow’s point of view. I am retelling it in Prince Tiberias Calore’s (AKA Cal) point of view.
*DISCLAIMER* This scene depicts violence. If that is something you don’t prefer to read, please skip this chapter. I do not want to force you guys to read something you don’t enjoy.
My hand shakes, pulled along by the Queen’s will. I try to resist, struggling with every ounce of strength I have. But, alas, it’s of no use. This is the one battle I cannot fight. My hand closes around the sword gilded in the sheath by my father’s waist. At last, the tears fall, streaming down my face against my burning-hot skin.
“It’s not you,” my father says, his eyes on my wretched face. He refuses to plead for his life. “I know it’s not you, son. This is not your fault.”
I want him to resist her powers, I want him to plead for his life. He doesn’t deserve this; he doesn’t deserve to be used as one of her puppets. I want nothing more than to go back to the way things used to be before Mother was killed.
If only Maven wasn’t under her spell as well. Maybe if he could see past the fact that the queen is his mother, he could save us; he could save Father. He could stop her from doing something so terrible.
My arm raises, the sword shaking in my grip. The sword is one we used at ceremonies, just for show, never meant to be used. The blade’s edge gleams, sharp as a razor. I watch as the steel reddens under my fiery touch, my powers at work. The gild melts between my fingers. Gold, silver, and iron drip from my hand; a perfect representation of the tears I shed.
“Please,” I plead, it’s all I can manage to force out. “Please.”
I see no regret in Elara’s eyes and not an ounce of remorse. She’s been waiting for this moment for a long time. My arm flies, the sword slicing through flesh and bone. Elara doesn’t blink.
My father’s corpse falls with a thud, his head coming to a stop a few feet away. My father’s Silverblood pools at my feet. I drop the melting sword and let it fall to the floor before falling to my knees, my head in my hands. I hear my father’s crown clatter across the floor, before coming to a stop
I hear Elara scream. Does she regret it? Does she regret controlling my every move? Forcing me to kill my own father? No. I know she doesn’t. Just like she doesn’t regret murdering Mother for the throne.
“You killed him! You killed the king! You killed our father!” Maven screams in my face. I resist the urge to cut him down right then and there. I’m in shock. I can’t move, my body is numb. I don’t understand, I don’t want to understand.
“Run Cal!” someone screams - Mare maybe? “You have to run!”
I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave my father’s side. The father I killed, the only person I had left. Now there is no one...alone once again...
