POV: Ravenna
A week and a half since Father ruined my life, and I still hadn't figured out how to fix it.
I paced my chambers—back and forth. Solace rumbled in the back of my mind, uneasy. She didn't like when I was like this. All frantic energy and spiraling thoughts.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor."
I spun. Morgana was sprawled in my favorite chair—the velvet one by the fireplace looking entirely too comfortable.
"How did you get in here?"
"I walked. Through the door. Novel concept, I know." She was eating an apple. "Also, Saren let me in."
"Saren's supposed to be guarding—"
"He is guarding. From outside. Like a good little water boy." She took another bite, crunching obnoxiously. "He says hello, by the way. Also that you're being dramatic again."
"I am NOT—" I caught myself. Took a breath. "I'm not being dramatic. I'm being strategic."
"Mm-hmm." Morgana didn't look convinced. "That's why you've been locked in here for three days?"
"I've been planning."
"Right. Planning." She tossed the apple core into the fireplace. "Want to share with the class, or are we keeping our evil schemes secret?"
I glared at her. She grinned back, completely unbothered.
This was why Morgana was my best friend. Also why she was the worst.
"Fine." I flopped onto my bed with maximum drama. Stared at the canopy. "I need to make them leave."
"The candidates."
"Obviously the candidates! Who else would I—" I sat up. "Wait, were you being sarcastic?"
"Little bit, yeah."
I threw a pillow at her. She caught it, laughing.
"Rav. Love. You can't make them leave. Your father's orders—"
"Are stupid and controlling and wrong." I was on my feet again. Couldn't sit still. Couldn't stop moving. "He can't just—just decide I have to marry someone! That's not fair!"
"Life's not fair."
"Well it should be!" My voice was rising. I knew it was. Didn't care. "I should get to choose! ME! Not Father, not some stupid tradition, not—"
"Okay, okay." Morgana held up both hands. "Gods, you're loud when you're wound up. What's the plan?"
I took a breath. Another. Forced myself to think clearly.
"I make them not want me," I said slowly. "If they all withdraw—if they all decide I'm too much trouble—Father will have to cancel the competition."
"And how exactly do you plan to accomplish that?"
"I'll be..." I searched for the word. "Impossible. Cruel. Everything they don't want in a wife."
Morgana's expression shifted. Something guarded. "Rav—"
"I'll sabotage the trials." The ideas were coming faster now, spilling out. "Make them look foolish. Incompetent. Father wants someone strong to protect me, right? So I'll prove they're all weak."
"That's—"
"Brilliant, I know!" I was pacing again. "The Trial of Strength—I could bribe the trial master. Change the rules mid-competition. Make it impossible for them to win. Or—or I could spread rumors! Make the court turn against them before they even have a chance!"
"Ravenna—"
"And there's always poison." I stopped. Turned to look at her. "Not to kill them, obviously. Just... weaken them. Make them sick enough that they can't compete. Then they'd HAVE to withdraw."
The silence that followed was very, very loud.
Morgana was staring at me. Not blinking. Just... staring.
"You're joking," she finally said.
"I'm not."
"You want to poison them."
"Not fatally! Just a little bit. Enough to—"
"Are you INSANE?" She was on her feet now too. "Rav, that's—that's actually insane. You can't—"
"Why not?" My voice came out sharp. Defensive. "They're coming here to trap me in a marriage I don't want. Why shouldn't I fight back?"
"Because poisoning people is how you start a war, not end a competition!"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic—"
"I'M being dramatic?" Morgana laughed. It wasn't a nice sound. "You just suggested poisoning four nobles, and I'M the dramatic one?"
"You don't understand." I wrapped my arms around myself. Felt the familiar sting of tears. Gods, I cried so much lately. "You don't know what it's like. Everyone watching, everyone expecting me to just... just accept this. To smile and be gracious and pick which stranger gets to own me for the rest of my life."
Morgana's face softened. Slightly.
"I know it's hard—"
"You don't, though." I was crying properly now. Ugly crying. The kind where your nose runs and your face gets all splotchy. "You get to choose. You could fall in love with—with a blacksmith or a merchant or whoever you want. But me? I'm a princess. I don't get choices. I get OBLIGATIONS."
She crossed to me. Wrapped me in a hug even though I was snotty and gross.
"I know, love," she murmured into my hair. "I know."
We stood like that for a long moment. Me crying, her holding me together. Like always.
"I just want things to go back to normal," I whispered. "Before Father announced this stupid competition. When it was just you and me and Saren and Solace and everything was perfect."
"Things weren't perfect, Rav. You were just comfortable."
I pulled back. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Morgana's eyes were sad. "It means... sometimes things have to change. Even when we don't want them to."
"Well, I don't want them to change." I wiped my face with my sleeve. Undignified, but who cared. "So I'm going to stop it. I'm going to make them all leave, and Father will see that this was a terrible idea, and everything will go back to the way it was."
"And if your plan doesn't work?"
"It will."
"But if it doesn't—"
"It WILL, Morgana!" I was shouting again. "It has to! Because I can't—I won't—"
I couldn't finish. The words tangled up with the tears and the fear and the anger until I couldn't tell them apart anymore.
Morgana sighed. Long and heavy and full of judgment I didn't want to hear.
"Fine," she said. "Do your plan. Sabotage them. Make yourself impossible." She headed for the door. "But Rav? When this backfires—and it WILL backfire—don't say I didn't warn you."
"It won't backfire."
She paused. Hand on the doorknob. Didn't turn around.
"You're becoming someone I don't recognize," she said quietly. "And I don't think you even see it."
The door closed behind her.
I was alone. I crossed to my vanity. Sat. Stared at my reflection.
Blue eyes stared back. Mother's eyes. The eyes that made Father look away because they reminded him of what he lost.
My hair was a mess from crying. Face all red and puffy. I looked like a child who didn't get her way.
Which was exactly what I was, wasn't it? A spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
No.
No, I was FIGHTING for my freedom. That was different. That was—that was NOBLE, even. Refusing to be controlled. Refusing to just accept what Father decided without my input.
Wasn't it?
I thought about the poison. About bribing trial masters and spreading rumors. About making four men look foolish in front of the entire court just so I didn't have to face my own fear.
My reflection's eyes looked... hard. Cold. Not like Mother's at all.
Something twisted in my chest. Guilt? Shame?
I pushed it down. Down, down, down where I didn't have to feel it.
This was fine. The plan was fine. A little cruelty now to avoid a lifetime of misery later—that was just smart thinking. Strategic thinking.
Father wanted me to choose a husband? Fine. I'd choose. I'd choose NONE OF THEM.
I smiled at my reflection. Sharp. Determined. Definitely not cruel.
The door creaked open. Saren's head appeared.
"Everything okay, Princess?" His usual grin was softer than normal. Worried. "Heard shouting."
"Everything's perfect." I turned away from the mirror. "Actually, I need your help."
"Oh no." He stepped fully inside. "That tone. I know that tone. That's your 'I'm about to do something stupid and drag you into it' tone."
"I prefer to call it my 'brilliant plan' tone."
"Same thing, usually." But he was closing the door. Coming to sit on the edge of my bed. "What do you need?"
And just like that, the guilt was gone. Because Saren would help me. He always helped me. And Morgana would come around once she saw it working.
They loved me. They'd understand.
I leaned forward. Lowered my voice like we were conspirators.
"I need you to find out everything about the candidates," I said. "Weaknesses. Fears. Secrets. Anything I can use."
Saren's expression shifted. "Rav—"
"And I need you to be discreet. Can't let anyone know we're investigating."
"Princess, I don't think—"
"Please, Saren?" I grabbed his hands. Let my eyes go wide and pleading. "Please? You're the only one I trust with this."
He stared at me for a long moment.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he finally said.
"Not a chance."
He sighed. Defeated. "Fine. But when this explodes in your face—"
"It won't."
"—I'm saying 'I told you so.' Repeatedly. For years."
I threw my arms around him. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
He hugged me back. But his voice was quiet when he spoke.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Rav."
"I do." I pulled back. Smiled my brightest smile. "Trust me. This is going to work perfectly."
He didn't look convinced. But he nodded anyway.
After he left, I returned to the mirror. The smile was still on my face. That sharp, determined, definitely-not-cruel smile.
For just a moment—one brief, flickering moment—I saw something else in my reflection. Something that made my stomach turn.
But then I blinked, and it was gone.
I was fine. The plan was fine. Everything was going exactly how it should.
I turned away from the mirror and started making lists. Four candidates. Four different ways to break them. This was going to be easy.