𝖎𝖎. Leave Everything to Me

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𝖎𝖎

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𝖎𝖎. Leave Everything to Me


MAEVE DOES HER BEST trying not to think about what her life would be like if she'd turned out better. Like if she was a Silver, or even simply a Red with a useful talent other than pickpocketing. She ignores the thoughts when they swell up around her brain, and always tries to focus herself on something else, but sometimes she can't help but think about how there's so much more out there, out beyond her little village.

From the Deuveux's house ━ which is small, even by Stilts standards ━ there's a view that Maeve never gets tired of. Before his injury, during one of his army leaves, her father built the house high so his family could see across the river, and she's so thankful that he did. Even through the humid haze of summer you can see the cleared pockets of land that were once forest, now logged into oblivion. They look like a disease, Maeve thinks, but to the north and west, the untouched hills are a calm reminder. A reminder that keeps Maeve up at night: there is so much more out there. Beyond them, beyond the Silvers, beyond everything she knows.

Maeve climbs the ladder up to the house, over worn wood shaped to the hands that ascend and descend every day. From this height, she can see a few boats heading upriver, proudly flying their bright flags. Silvers. They're the only ones rich enough to use private transportation. While they enjoy wheeled transports, pleasure boats, even high-flying airjets, the Reds get nothing more than their own two feet, or a push cycle if they're lucky.

Maeve's best guess is that the boats are heading off to Summerton, the small city that springs to life around the royal family's summer residence. Emira was there today, aiding the seamstress she's apprenticed to. They often go to the market there when the king visits, to sell her wares to the Silver merchants and nobles who follow the royals like ducklings. The palace itself is known as the Hall of the Sun, and it's supposed to be a marvel, but Maeve has never even gotten a glimpse of it ━ obviously. She's not quite sure why the royals even bother having a second house, especially since their capital palace is so fine and beautiful. But like all Silvers, she supposes, they don't act out of need. They are driven by want. And what they want, they get.

Before Maeve has to open the door to the usual chaos, she lets the flag fluttering from the porch. Three red stars on yellowed fabric, one for each brother, and room for more. Room for her. Most houses have flags like this, some with black stripes instead of stars in quiet reminder of dead children.

When she gets inside, Maeve is greeted with her mother sweating over the stove, stirring a pot of stew while her father glares at it from his wheelchair. Emira embroiders at the table, making something beautiful and exquisite and completely beyond Maeve's comprehension.

"I'm home," she says to no one in particular. Her dad answers with a wave, her mom a nod, and Emira doesn't even look up from her scrap of silk, entirely too focused on it.

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