Lover's Curse (Red Queen Awards Winner)

Chapter Twenty Nine - Painted Smiles

Iris

I want to study her.

I want to know what about her captivated two Nortan princes. I want to map every inch of her face until I memorize it. I want to know how she has amassed such power, how a red peasant without a scrap has become a political vortex.

That must be why my eyes keep drifting. Why her presence lures my thoughts to wander, tracing the planes of her face, wondering what Maven has seen that I have not. Why I want her laid beside me.

Without much clothes on.

"Irie?" Tiora pokes my shoulder. "Earth to Irie. You went to space again."

"Could you stop calling me that? I sound five."

"I know, that's what makes it great. You get so annoyed." Tiora dodges my aggressive swipe, chuckling. We're supposed to be combing through official documents right now, but my sister has never been one to pass up an opportunity for mischief. "What're you thinking about?"

We're not alone. Though she is cloistered in her chambers, her people are not, stationed at various points about the room. I'd never paid them much thought before. They were always there, flitting in the corner of my eye, but I'd never turned to focus on them.

Perhaps that was a mistake.

"Tactical considerations." Mare said I was a good liar. "Regarding the prisoner."

"Tactical, huh?" Tiora raises a brow. "Tactical in love, maybe."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Denial, thy name is Iris." She rubs her hands, cackling. "Oh, how the tables have turned. You tortured me over my crushes, and now I have vengeance to wreck."

"You'll do no such thing."

"Does Mother know?" Tiora smirks. "She doesn't, does she? I'm gonna have so much fun."

"What's going on?" Mother pokes her head through the door. "This doesn't look like filing."

"I was asking Irie about the Barrow girl. She'd make an interesting painting, wouldn't she?" For a nymph, Tiora enjoys playing with fire. "Iris agrees; she's just too shy to admit it."

"I'm never shy."

"See what I mean?" Tiora shakes her head. "Too shy to admit how shy she is."

I brush her aside to hug Mother. "Are you sure I'm the younger sister?"

"Some days? No." Mother chuckles. "You may set up a portrait once you finish your duties. Until then, let your sister be as shy as she wishes."

"Speaking of the Barrow girl, what do you plan to do with her? It'd be a waste to keep her chained when she could be of use." I school my face into neutrality. "She's far cleverer than you'd think. With time, she'll understand that cooperating with us is better for her in the long run."

"Oh." Mother waves a hand. "Don't mind that. We have far more important things to worry about."

This may be harder than I thought. "Any news of the war front?"

Her expression smooths. "Maven Calore has fallen ill. At one of our own hospitals, the rumors say." She frowns. "A hospital I cannot find."

"Rumors?" My brow wrinkles. "Do they have substance?"

"Curious. No letters. No pleas. I'd assumed he'd be begging for her release." Did I betray Mare for nothing? "Perhaps they are concealing his death."

Mother laughs. "Wouldn't that be fortunate. In the meantime, help your sister. You know how she is."

The next hour is a flurry of papers and whispers, a day's work compacted in sixty minutes. Tiora performs miracles when she wants something. If only her interests aligned with practicality.

At least Mare will be mad.

"I wasn't aware I was your monkey." She twists in her seat, frustrating Tiora at her easel. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"She does. As do I." I lean against the door. "My sister has always had more ideas than sense."

"I'm right here."

"That's the point." I pat her head. "For shame, Tiora."

"I have none." She scowls. "Hold still."

She's already formed an outline of sharp strokes, jagged knife slashes edged in crimson. Thin purple lines web behind it, shimmering with the fog of a coming storm. A dab of dark silver pools where her mouth should be.

Mare curls into a ball. "I'm still now."

"Wonderful." Tiora won't concede defeat. "Sis, reposition her for me."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. Reposition her. I don't like this pose, and she's not cooperating with me." She smirks. "Is that too hard?"

I'm going to wear her skin as a coat. "Very well." My heart pounds as I clasp Mare's hand, no longer bony, but still with callouses to match my own. "How would you like her?"

"I can move myself."

Tiora tuts. "Not like that. You're blocking out the light. Sis, help me."

"Sorry about this." I grimace.

She says nothing. Her eyes churn like lakewater at high tide, silt-hidden weeds dragging you beneath their depths. She hates me. She must. I chained her again, no matter my reasons, and there is no undoing that.

I nudge her jaw, pointing to a spot to the right of Tiora. No longer is her frame withered by silence, having regained curves and muscle in places which snag my eye.

Staring is rude.

"Perfect." Tiora grins. "Hold that pose for five hours."

Mare stills. "Excuse me?"

"Portraiture is an art form. And art takes time." She dips her brush to the palette. "You have nothing better to do."

I sigh. "Tiora, you're poking an outlet with a fork."

"Then let me poke it in peace. I hear electrocution is fun."

"You're impossible. Take a photo and leave."

Tiora blinks, a grin spreading across her face. "Yes. That's an excellent idea. Wait here." She breezes past both of us, slamming the door before I can protest. The lock clicks behind her.

She doesn't return.

A/N: Tiora is so fucking ADHD and it's giving me life