The Forged King

Garret stood just inside the door, looking mournfully back at Kitaba. His last day was as eventful as any other day. Caric bothered him less, but maybe that was just because Garret didn’t care anymore.

“Go forth toward greatness,” Vira said, “We will miss you, but we are glad not to hold you back from your dreams.”

Garret extended his arms for a hug, and was granted one.

“This is only because you are leaving and will not damage my reputation.”

“I would never,” Garret admonished, “Thank you, Master Vira.”

The gnome quickly returned to his post, and Garret’s shoulder was grabbed and turned.

“Are you leaving because of that Forged Prince article?” Caric asked.

“Yes,” Garret admitted, “Apparently the Everin representative went straight to the ball, thus missing the announcement.” he quietly thanked Endra, sure the action was intentional.

“I meant the description,” Caric said, clearly noticing Garret’s flinch.

“What do you mean to say about the description?”

“I know what you look like, Forge—”

“Kitaba,” Garret corrected.

“Convenient how you chose a new name when the Forged Prince matches your description almost exactly.”

“Make your accusation,” Garret said, “Explicitly.”

“As you wish,” Caric bowed, “Your highness.”

“What do you want, Caric?”

Caric shrugged.

“You’re leaving, even if you don’t deserve Everin, and I’m right. I’m no monster, Forge. Your secret is safe with me.”

Garret exchanged a quiet nod with Caric, speeding out the door. He would tell no one of this.

It was hard not to be entranced as Garret stepped into the Ilvan Palace. Kitaba’s buildings were hewn from the stone of the mountain, and the Palace of Phoenix was made from rock as well, but this place was made from trees, moving with the wind. He could see the sky between the leaves, as light came down upon them in green.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

His mother gripped tightly to his wrist.

“This is the hard part,” she muttered.

“What hard par—”

His mother ran, Garret barely able to follow. He soon realized why as the halls changed on them, moving to redirect them. The denizens of the palace were similarly speeding through it.

Eventually they came to another open area, Garret full of heaving breaths. He looked up to see a woman at a desk who had worn more jewelry during her time in Phoenix.

“Queen,” heave, “Oleander.”

Garret attempted to bow, but it was harder to get lower than he already was.

“Catch your breath,” Queen Oleander said, “I know it can be disorienting. Mistletoe and Ivy will join us soon, so if you would move from the door.

Garret let his mother pull him to the side. He caught his breath as ordered before standing.

“I apologize for my lack of formality your majesty,” Garret said, before properly bowing this time.

Queen Oleander laughed.

“You raised a humble man, Ariana.”

“You haven’t borne his temper,” Ariana said, “Though your daughter has some experience with it. You raised a kind woman.”

Through the wall came Ivy at a leisurely pace. Then another woman around the age of Garret’s mother jumped through from the door.

“I dislike having to do this in secret,” General Mistletoe said. Garret cowered, though her gaze was focused on Ivy.

“And you would prefer to make it public you are harboring King Solam’s missing wife and child?” Ivy asked back. Garret flinched.

This was the Ivy that had talked Caric down, the one that made plain to his mother they would have to plea asylum. He was surprisingly glad to see her, despite his fear.

Ivy dressed differently than he’d seen her before. Far less formal than Phoenix, which had loose but long skirts, and the jewelry of the dwarven crafters. Clearly more royal than the one that visited him in Kitaba, with common clothes and a list. This was the real Ivy, with charms embroidered on her clothes, and hair adorned with silver bands.

“Ariana,” Queen Oleander said, “Does Solam pose a threat to you and your son?”

“One who does has his ear,” Ariana said, “I know not who, but I worry for Reuben as well.”

Garret didn’t really care about Reuben. It was cruel to feel that way about his brother, but the Forged Prince was a stranger to him.

Oleander closed her eyes as a weight seemed to settle on her head.

“I, the reigning queen of Ilva, grant you asylum from the court of Phoenix. This fact will be kept secret, as will your status. We have prepared a house for you with restricted access and a rune gate to Everin for Garret’s studies. Princess Ivy has volunteered to act as liaison should you be in need of anything else.” she gave an imperial nod.

“Am I to sit around and do nothing?” Ariana immediately asked, “Sit in solitude as I live here? Ilva doesn’t have the same need for a furnace that Armath has.”

“Imagine what our smiths could do with a skilled furnace,” Queen Oleander said.

“Work with dwarves,” Ariana scoffed, “I’d rather die.”

“Mother!”

“And they’d feel the same. Dwarves and the Forge are not friends.”

Garret didn’t know what to do with that information.

“I could use an assistant,” Mistletoe said, “You could manage a garden. Your options aren’t limited, Ariana. Your face is not as well known as it once was, but for now I suggest you rest while your son gets situated.”

Ariana nodded at Mistletoe.

“You never let a woman complain, do you?”

“Complaining is what you do when you haven’t figured out the solution,” Ivy quoted, earning an eye-roll from Ariana.

“Is there anything else you wish of us?” Oleander asked.

Garret shook his head, already overwhelmed with such a new place.

“Your hospitality is more than enough,” his mother admitted.

“If you would follow me,” Ivy said, moving to the wall behind her mother’s desk and placing her hand there.

“I will need you both to stay close.”

Garret and Ariana grabbed hands, and Garret offered a hand to Ivy, who hesitated before grabbing it. The wall opened beneath Ivy’s hand, and she pulled both of them out.

Garret had thought the movement of the trees in the castle to be unpredictable, but he couldn’t even discern the slightest pattern in the movement of the forest they’d opened up to. He gripped Ivy’s hand tighter.

“I’m a plant mage,” she said, “So we can maintain a slower pace to your home. Should you need to leave somewhere without a rune gate, you can call me and I’ll make sure there’s a plant mage to help you.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Ariana said, bowing. Garret followed her lead.

“Please, no titles, and no bowing. We barely require such formality in Ilva, and you ought to get used to it.”

“Since when?” Ariana asked, “You always required full formality for diplomatic visits.”

“This is not a diplomatic visit. You are denizens of Ilva now.”

 Ivy brought them to a cabin made of stone. Garret’s mother immediately pulled away to feel the material.

“This looks closer to the make of the dwarves,” Garret said as he watched his mother’s adoration, “Don’t elves prefer wood?”

His mother glared daggers at him.

“As dwarves make up more than a third of our population,” Ivy said, joining Ariana with a hand on the wall, “It shouldn’t be too surprising that they’d build homes. This is an old one, enchanted so only certain people can step through the boundary. One of the Elanorei sisters lived here for a time.”

“You could fare to be less ambiguous, Ivy,” Ariana said, “We all know Snow White is closest associated with Ilva.”

Garret shook his head.

“Rose Red also lived around Ilva. Perhaps it was her cabin.”

“It was Snow White’s,” Ivy confirmed, “Made by her family to hide her from the Tiadruan queen.”

Garret shook his head.

“I’d love to read the histories to see how much of that is truth.”

“They’re in Everin,” Ivy confirmed.

Ariana clapped her hands.

“Well Ivy, if you will not let us bow, or use a title, may we at least make you some food before you return to your duties. I couldn’t help but notice the garden.”

“Oh, right,” Ivy stood straight, “The tour.”

Ivy presented the garden, a standard for most Ilvan homes. It had some staple foods and a few herbs. She presented the porch, which featured an ornate metal swinging chair that could comfortably fit two people.

Then she opened the door to let them inside. Similarly made of stone, the cabin was two stories. The ground floor they stood on was open, with kitchen, table, and what looked to be a private study. Ivy opened the room to show a desk and a large mirror on the side.

“There goes the secrecy,” Ariana said, gesturing toward the mirror.

“All the mirrors are enchanted in the same way the house is,” Ivy explained, “Only someone with a key can make a call to them.”

Ivy presented a band around her wrist before tossing matching ones to the two of them, Garret could recognize Snow White’s name, the general word for building, and the necessary shield-pass runes. The enchantment was in actual Feylan.

“These are old,” Garret said.

“Not all of them, but most of them, yes. The others are imitations.”

“So they can be recreated?” Ariana asked.

Ivy pulled her key down so it was covered by her sleeve.

“Only if they know it exists. We Sylvans are fond of our secrets.”

Ariana shook her head.

“We appreciate them being shared with us,” Garret said.

“Making up for my faults,” Ivy said, “Shall we see your rooms?”

Garret led out the door, and Ivy walked past him toward the stairs. There was a confidence to her movement he’d never seen in Armath.

“I see your resolve is waning,” his mother said, “To hate her for what she’s done.”

“She’s made up for it, hasn’t she?” Garret asked.

“I’m not the one she hurt,” his mother said, “Nor am I the reason she’s helping us.”

His mother followed Ivy up, and Garret joined soon enough.

The upper floor seemed larger almost than the first one.

“This was designed as a hideout for many people at a time.”

Ivy gestured down a hall that showed seven doors and one at the end.

“They’re all fairly similar, rudimentary beds and lodging, and a water closet at the end. You can choose where you feel most comfortable, move a bed or two if need be.”

“I may retire for a moment,” Ariana said, “If that’s allowed, then make some food. Will you be joining us, Ivy?”

Ivy nodded.

“If that was an offical invitation, I will gladly accept.”

Ariana nodded, taking the nearest door.

“I have one more thing to show you,” Ivy said, grabbing Garret’s hand.

She pulled him down the stairs and onto the front porch, where Garret could see a rune gate.

“It will take you to Everin, and there will be one there installed to bring you back here, so long as you have a key.”

“Should I test it now?” Garret asked.

“No, it’s already been tested. You can test it tomorrow when you have to go to Everin.”

“Of course,” Garret said, “Thank you, Ivy.”

“My mothers were the ones who agreed to grant you asylum.”

“But you were the one who offered.”

Ivy turned around to him, their faces close aside from the height difference. She brought a hand up to cup his cheek.

“There is very little I would not do for you, Garret.”

Garret grabbed her other hand again and kissed her, then immediately pulled away once he realized what he’d done.

They were now at least a pace away from each other.

“I apologize,” he began, “I shouldn’t have done that, with your title, and I…”

He watched her stunned expression as her hand stayed on her lips.

“I thought you were angry,” she said, “I thought this was all… Was that kiss a thank you?”

“If I wished to thank you, I wouldn’t have touched you. No, that was…”

Technically, Garret wasn’t a commoner—he was somehow a prince—but Ivy was true royalty, royalty that extended a hand to save him in his rage. He was lucky they were alone, otherwise who knew how someone would have responded to him kissing a princess?

“Garret,” Ivy said, having bridged the gap, “Why did you kiss me?”

“I don’t know?” Garret admitted, “I’ve liked you since I met you, but you’re different here, and it’s different here, and I screwed up by letting my anger at everything happening out on you, and you just wanted—”

She kissed him and Garret’s mind went blank, aside from trying to keep that kiss as long as possible.

Eventually Ivy moved away.

“Mom was right,” Garret realized.

“We finally kiss, and that’s all you can think about?” Ivy asked.

“Well she was,” Garret teased, “There are a lot faster ways to get me to kiss you.”

Ivy sobered up at that comment, straightening her back.

“What did I say?” Garret asked.

“Is this anything more?” Ivy asked, “Than kissing? I won’t begrudge you if this was just a spur of the moment decision. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, but you’ve been under a lot of duress, and you certainly don’t need the stress of a relationship while you’re navigating Everin and trying to stay a secret—”

“Ivy,” Garret said.

“Yes?”

“I would like it to be something more. I think I’ve wanted something more since we first met.”

Ivy breathed a sigh of relief.

“You understand it won’t be simple, don’t you?” Ivy said, “You have to stay secret, and I have to be Princess Ivy.”

“I understand.”

“You understand that there’s a certain level of commitment expected of you, compared to a relationship with someone less politically tied.”

Garret nodded. Ivy’s life seemed to be dedicated to Ilva from what he’d seen.

Ivy gave a quiet sigh.

“I don’t like hiding things from you, Garret, and I want you to make your choice fully aware of the choice you’re making.”

“What are you trying to say?” Garret asked.

She scrunched up her face like she was losing a debate in her head.

“Every child of my parents could potentially be the heir, and must be treated as such in all things. To pursue me is to commit to being my consort should I be the one who needs to step up.”

That was a large commitment. What he’d dealt with in politics, he hadn’t enjoyed, and he’d only just become a full scribe.

“What does being an Ilvan consort entail?” Garret asked.

“It really depends on the consort. With my mothers, Mistletoe is both General and Consort, but if I were to have a general, it would be Oak.”

“Your brother?”

Ivy nodded.

“Could I still be a scribe?”

Ivy nodded.

“You’d need to be trained in other politics, and you’d be banned from recording anything I was involved in, for bias reasons. If you became consort, you would have to attend gatherings and balls, but in Ilva the consort’s main roll is not anything involved in actual ruling.”

“What is the consort for then?”

Ivy’s face flushed.

“To care for the sovereign, and help produce heirs. I mentioned the minimum of three children, right?”

Garret nodded. He wasn’t sure he was ready to have a family, not that it was a likely urgency.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course. I’d be more concerned if you said yes right away. It’s a lot of pressure to put on one person.”

“What are you two chatting about?” Garret’s mother asked from the doorway.

“Important things,” Garret said, “We should make dinner.”