The Forged King

Ivy focused on standing upright. Panic had given her a restless night, but she had to be here to accept the invitation.

Her mothers gratefully accepted the item from the Phoenician messenger before he disappeared in a small wreath of flame.

Mom opened the seal, handing it to Mama.

“For you, Queen Oleander”

“Thank you, General Mistletoe.”

Ivy, Oak, and Nightshade giggled. Their mothers’ formality was always a little ridiculous.

“It would seem you each have an invitation to the Forge.”

It wasn’t actually surprising. There had been rumors about the possibility for sometime. As one of Phoenix’s closest neighbors, Ilva had gotten news quicker than official channels. Much debate had been had among all the siblings about this invitation, though only three were actually attending the council.

“I think I would like to visit,” Ivy said. She in particular had been advised against it, but the decision was made the moment she’d heard Garret’s surname. She could tell him everything she’d learned about where his family had come from.

“I wished to attend the negotiations,” Oak said, “So I will be forced to miss it.”

“I don’t wanna walk that much,” Nightshade complained. She was only seven, so any insults from her refusal wouldn’t be taken to heart anyways.

“That leaves you alone then, Ivy,” Mama said, “With other younger members of the entourage should they choose to take it.”

Ivy shuddered at the idea of who she might be stuck with. At her last Sovereign Council, she’d had an incident with Prince Ingvi that left both of them banned from any further festivities of the event. His negotiated betrothed, Princess Marina, would likely be just as difficult. It would still be worth it to learn what she could.

“I do not mind being alone.”

“Is that why you always run into the forest after your lessons?” Oak commented.

She was usually running to the teleportation circles in Everin so she could go meet Gareth in Kitaba. Oak was the only one who knew that.

“I’m running to Everin for self-directed study.”

Oak snorted, some trustworthy brother.

“Well your duties and lessons are done for the day,” Mom said, “So I suppose you should be off.”

“Oh, Ivy changes into something less formal for her self-directed study.”

She wasn’t going to outlive that excuse any time soon.

“Thank you General Mistletoe, Queen Oleander.” she gave her bows, and started running to her family’s private quarters. Oak and Nightshade followed her after offering their own.

Sylvan castle wasn’t made of stone, not at first glance. Its outer walls were made of ancient trees, and its halls made of their offspring. These walls had a tendency to move, making skilled runners of most residents; one had to move fast if they didn’t want to lose their destination. As a Plant Mage, Ivy didn’t have to worry as much, but then she would have lost the race. They each dodged the aides, soldiers, and officials without making them drop anything as they moved into the lower levels.

The lower levels were where the stone began, though never devoid of tree roots. Tiadruan Castle turned to Montaigne Palace, the home of the dwarven regime before the two families united in marriage, making the Sylvans. All personal chambers were in the lower levels, as the stability of the rooms made it safer. Running was just as common, though. Deeper than any of the guests lay the royal family. 16 rooms, of which eight were filled with residents, their mothers with the baby, five children individually, and two sets of twins. Oak was already out-pacing her, but as the oldest, his chamber was further down than hers, but hers was further down than Nightshade’s.

Fully in her element now that they were underground, Nightshade passed both of them on moving stones, pulling herself into her room.

“I win!”

Cheers came from several of the other rooms.

Oak and Ivy slowed down now that the challenge was over.

“Don’t leave all your jewelry in a pile on your dresser this time. The amount of effort I went to to untangle it is a great debt you owe me.”

“I didn’t ask you too, but I thank you, and I won’t be taking off all of it this time.”

“Why not?”

“I’m trying to persuade Garret’s mother to let him come to Phoenix to record the Sovereign Council.” she looked down to reduce her voice carrying, “He invited me to dinner.”

“And I take it you informed our mothers.”

“Yes, actually, I have told them I’m going to have dinner with a friend.”

“And they didn’t ask who it was?”

“No.”

“Then they might already know.”

Ivy’s jaw went slack. Garret had been her secret. How could it have gotten out?

“If you told—”

“I didn’t, but the walls echo here. They probably know there’s someone you like spending time with, and they will absolutely interrogate you about them in a few months.”

No. No. She didn’t want that attention on this, but they were going to know if Garret went to Phoenix because she wasn’t going to not talk to him after helping him get there.

She put a lock her hair in her mouth and screamed a little.

“What are your intentions with this scribe anyways?” Oak asked.

“I don’t know.” her voice was still muffled by the hair.

“You should figure that out before he figures you out.”

Oak was right, as usual, loathe as Ivy was to admit it. After Phoenix. She would figure this out after Phoenix.

“Before Phoenix.”

She screamed again.

Kitaba was different from what Ivy was used to back home, but she had her own love for it. There was always someone speaking through the wind over her head, and pockets of silence whenever she was near someone with a book.

“Hello, Ivy.”

Caric didn’t have any of her love. Like Garret, he was unaware of her status, which was why he hadn’t given her much respect initially, even trying to kick her out for crying. His interest in her as a patron was directly proportional to how much time she spent with his rival.

“I’m here to see Garret.”

“But his shift’s almost ending.”

“I’m aware.” she certainly wasn’t going to tell him she was going to dinner at Garret’s house. She’d learned already that telling him anything would lead to being pestered about it as he attempted to make conversation, and she still hadn’t forgiven him for his implication a few days ago.

“Ivy!” Garret glided through the air in front of her and Caric. He looked good in the robes of an official scribe, mostly just adding some extra gold to the uniform, especially around the shoulders.

“Happy birthday!” she said, before remembering Caric was there.

“Thank you.”

“It’s your birthday?” Caric asked, incredulous, “Why are you working?”

“Because my mother was also busy, and I like being here.”

“Well why is Ivy here?”

“Because I invited her to dinner.”

Caric looked at each of them.

“His mother’s a freak, you know that?”

“By Armath standards, so am I probably.”

Caric rolled his eyes, abandoning them.

“You look good in official robes,” Ivy said.

“Thank you. You look dressed up.”

She was definitely wearing something different than usual, beginning with the fact there was a skirt that went down to her knees. Under the skirt, her black pants had extra silver filigree, which wasn’t purely decorative, forming shield runes where the skirt covered them. Her usually uncovered shirt had a black leather vest over it that gave her a tighter figure compared to usual. Then there was the pair of earrings that she’d kept from her clothes this morning. Compared to her royal fare, this was still dressing down.

She offered Garret an awkward smile as he started to look away.

“My shift ends in a few minutes, so feel free to wander. Sorry I can’t keep you occupied.”

“It’s fine.”

Ivy’s reading was interrupted by two hands grabbing her shoulders. She clenched her fists over her runes.

“Are you ready to go?” Garret asked. Ivy released her fists to grab his hands.

“Yes.”

He spun her out of the chair, and she found herself with her arm in his. With his free hand, he moved the air to close her book, then strained as he floated it onto the inventory cart.

“It’s only polite.”

She just smiled.

She spotted Master Vira smiling at them as Garret brought her just outside the door, which was only a few feet from a ledge as they stepped out. Armath really was a mountain.

“I’m moreso a Plant Mage than Stone,” she confessed, staring down.

“I was planning to carry you.”

“Carry me?” she clung a little tighter to his elbow, unsure of what to do.

“Well, it seemed efficient at the time. I probably should have asked you before springing that plan. I can find a stone boat, there’s a—”

“Carrying is fine,” she ignored his blush, “I just didn’t realize I would be causing you labor on your own birthday.”

“I didn’t really consider it labor.”

She was intensely grateful he didn’t realize she was a princess in this moment.

“So how does it work?” she asked.

He let go of her arm, placing the same one on her back, then placed the other arm behind her knees.

“Are you ready?”

Ivy nodded, too afraid of squealing to answer aloud.

He scooped her up, and she instinctively placed her arms around his neck.

“You’re a natural.”

“Thanks.”

“Ready for the fun part?”

“This isn’t fun?”

He rolled his eyes, grinning completely.

“I’m ready,” she answered.

He jumped. She probably should have been looking at the sights, but she enjoyed seeing his face so sure as he moved from landing to landing, some completely separate from the mountain itself.

Eventually, they landed in front of a large building.

“You live here?” she asked as he set her down, entwining their arms again.

“One of the ones on the bottom, yeah. It’s not very large, but it’s home.”

Ivy closed her mouth. Maybe just enjoying his company was selfish. She thought about the rooms at the bottom of the castle, many of them empty.

“Mom’s going to be a little late,” Garret had pulled them to a door, already turning the key, “So I guess we’ll just be alone.”

“We can come up with a plan for how we’re going to persuade her to let you go to Phoenix.”

“Yeah, sure. Though honestly Vira and I thought of a kidnapping plan that would see more success.”

Ivy laughed.

The apartment was small, but taller than her imagination had let her think. Garret was able to stand straight. The table was shorter than she’d expected though. It wasn’t an empty home either. Garret’s achievements, including the commission for full scribe, covered the wall opposite a large fireplace. She could see marks indicating Forge work on each of the sculptures, vases, and extra tables littered around.

“Is that safe?” she pointed at the fireplace. The room seemed rather isolated.

“Don’t worry, it’s well ventilated. Everyone on the lower floors helps heat the rest of the building as payment for staying.”

Ivy breathed a small sigh.

“Sit down,” Garret told her, “We can talk at the table.”

“Seriously?”

The conversation had veered toward Garret talking about his first manifestations as an Air Mage.

“Yeah, I don’t think she meant to be disappointed, but she misses the Forge, you know. Once she stopped being stunned she said I clearly belonged in Armath.”

“But you want to go to Everin?”

Garret nodded.

“And Phoenix now. That’s where my father is apparently, but mom doesn’t want me to meet him.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s made a home here with you.”

He tilted his head, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“My direct ancestor was almost killed by their aunt as a baby. Not every member of your family is safe.”

“That’s fair, and I wouldn’t be surprised, but I don’t know, I—”

The door opened, and a woman with several bags stepped in. Ivy and Garret got up to remove some of her burdens.

“Thanks,” The woman had Garret’s smile, “You must be Ivy.”

Ivy nodded.

“Is this for the week?” Garret asked, “How much work did you do today?”

“Delayed payments, I wanted to make something special. Leftovers might last us the week though.”

They set their bags near the kitchen area, and Garret and his mother started separating items. Ivy followed their lead, asking where she should put some more confusing items. They ended with quite a haul.

“Ivy, do you know how to use a knife?”

“My mom took time out of her schedule to teach me how to cook.”

“Good mother, but can you use a knife?”

“She’s a soldier.”

Garret’s mother offered the handle of a large cleaver.

“You take charge of the salad, and anything else I need cutting, the sink is over there. Garret, stay at the table.”

“What? Ivy’s our guest.”

“It’s your birthday,” Ivy and his mother said.

“Not to mention your first day as a full scribe,” Ivy added, “You must be tired with all those expectations on your shoulders now.”

Garret pouted a moment.

“I’ll grab a set of cards.”

As Ivy followed her lead, she found herself staring at Garret’s mother. She held a striking familiarity for Ivy, which she’d initially assumed was how much she’d looked like Garret, but it wasn’t just that. Her posture was refined in a way Garret’s wasn’t, like she was commanding something beyond the flames she controlled. Her eyes, though joyful, held a melancholy Ivy was sure she’d seen before.

Eventually she was pushed completely out of the kitchen with a bowl of salad and some flat bread to bring to Garret at the table.

“Is she always like this?” Ivy asked.

“Now you know why I want to be kidnapped.” Garret moved his card game off the table to make room, “No one can disagree with her for very long.”

“My mothers are much the same.”

“And how often have you talked them out of something?”

“Plenty,” Ivy bragged, “With help from my brother, or by managing to convince one of them so the other eventually caved.”

“You have a brother?”

“I have many siblings, but my oldest brother is the one I’m closest to. The only siblings between us are twins.”

Garret kept watch of her, ingesting the information.

“I don’t know if I’d like a sibling,” he finally said.

“Too important to share your mother?”

Garret shrugged.

“Some instinct tells me I’d fade if I had one.”

“Sometimes faded colors are better to look at.”

Garret’s expression looked hurt.

“I didn’t mean you’d be better faded, I just mean that my siblings and I are—”

“Would you like me faded?”

“I think I’d like you however you were, but I’m not sure I could see you fading.” Ivy averted her gaze, not sure she could say this to his face, “The whole time I’ve known you, you’ve been more confident each meeting.”

He stared at the table.

“The salad’s nice.”

“It was a struggle to keep it away from the fire.”

“Dessert is baking!” Garret’s mother announced, “And our main course is a Phoenician dish my father taught me how to make.”

“It’s my favorite,” Garret explained.

Ivy was excited, but she had to get the conversation ready for a difficult subject.

“I noticed most of your furniture was Forge made, did you bring them from home?”

Garret’s mother shook her head.

“My parents still live at the Forge, my father’s family has been there for generations. These are gifts from family.”

“You’re still in contact?”

The way Garret talked about it made it seem like she’d broken all contact.

“Not directly, but they send my cousin things to give me.”

“Why isn’t your cousin here? I assume they’d know it’s Garret’s birthday.”

Ivy was past trying to persuade. Maybe she knew as little about Garret as she’d let him know about herself.

“Because I didn’t ask him,” Garret answered, “I wanted to be alone with my favorite people.”

Ivy took a moment to realize he meant her. She stared at her food, and her hand next it, especially the ring she couldn’t take off.

“Eat up.” his mother ordered.

“Thank you.”

She ignored her troubles, trying not to focus on how useless she was for getting caught up in trying to learn about Garret. He’d brought her here to talk his mother into letting him go to Phoenix, and she wasn’t doing that. Why was it so hard?

The food was good though.

When she finally looked up after finishing the plate, she noticed both Garret and his mother staring at her.

“What did I do?”

“Did you like it?” Garret asked.

“Yes, it was delicious.”

They gave their shared smile and Ivy’s chest fluttered.

“So—”

“Dessert should be ready now,” Garret’s mother said, “Ivy, would you like to help me.”

She looked at Garret, who shrugged.

“Do you really need me?” she asked.

“Yes, I think I do.”

Ivy followed her to the kitchen, only to have her arm grabbed, with Garret’s mother pointing at her ring.

“Where did you get this?”

“From my mother.”

Technically true.

“And how did your mother get Queen Oleander’s ring?”

The ring wasn’t particularly distinct—in fact it changed appearance from bearer to bearer. How would she recognize it?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play coy with me. I’m a Forge, I know an enchanted item when I see one, especially my friend’s.”

“Your friend’s?”

She was supposed to be a hearth tender from the Forge. The last place her mother would find a friend. Ivy scrutinized her face again. She finally backed away.

“I don’t think you ever told me your name,” Ivy said, “And Garret only ever calls you his mother.”

“Don’t go there, Ivy.”

She remembered a part of Everin that only her family could access, where restricted information was kept. She’d only been there twice, but there was a small portrait of King Solam with a woman.

Ivy had assumed she was dead. The rumor was that Solam had killed her.

“I think I might know what you’re called though.”

“You’d only be allowed to see a portrait of me if you had a title. Out with it.”

“Please just call me Ivy—”

“Oleander and Mistletoe, Oak, Sumac and Nettle, poisons all of them. You did get that ring from your mother, didn’t you?”

Ivy closed her eyes, and nodded, then crouched to the ground. Either her friendship with Garret would put him in danger, or he would be found as Solam’s son—he couldn’t have gotten those red eyes from just anywhere—and made someone she’d almost never see.

“It’s probably better if you keep your distance from now on.”

No. She would see her promise through. She stood back up.

“Why does he need to hide?”

“You know the story.”

Queen Ariana had supposedly cheated on her husband with a man from Armath. Ivy’s mothers always found it suspect.

“Why did you hide in Armath of all places?”

Ariana flinched.

“You don’t know the state I was in, and you never should. I went to family, because neither home was safe, and I couldn’t trust any of the royal families.”

“My mothers—”

“You are too young to understand the ramifications of putting me under protection. You can’t run from someone who can heal armies, and you definitely can’t confront them. You hide, for as long as possible, until they forget you.”

“But Garret is clearly Solam’s son. The red eyes are too rare. You can return and—”

“No, Ivy. Garret doesn’t belong in that world. He belongs in libraries, and with historical records, safe.”

“And he doesn’t have a right to make that choice himself?”

“I won’t lose him too.”

“Too?”

Ariana’s gaze steeled.

“I lost a husband already, and I haven’t seen my parents in years. I’m not losing my son.”

“Forcing him to stay isn’t the way to keep him.”

Queen Ariana, despite the ashes on her face, despite the parts of the meal that stuck to her shirt, gave Ivy a look that made her cower.

“You volunteered to talk me into letting him go to Phoenix, probably using whatever conversation arts your tutors trained into you,” Ariana sussed.

“I’m not doing a very good job of it.”

“No, you are. Blunt honesty does wonders in damaging resolve. Garret’s planning to go with or without my blessing, isn’t he?”

“If it will help, I can extend the protections of Sylvan Court to Garret under my own authority. I can explain it to my mothers as a precaution to help a prodigy Everin has some interest in.”

“And do they?”

“The first master scribe of his generation will definitely gain notoriety.”

Ariana sighed.

“Very well, I will consider it, but…”

“But?”

“But stay away from him at the council.”

“But once he sees me—”

“You can explain yourself once it’s over, and he is safely back with me. In the meantime I won’t have him further scrutinized for flirting with a princess.”

Ivy looked at Garret, who gave a concerned look. She’d do anything for him.

“Fine.”