The Forged King

Ivy observed their warriors as they trained. Her mother, General Mistletoe, had been among the elite recruits when she met then Princess Oleander, so she took particular pride in commanding them.

This specific subgroup were the Grounders, primarily earth mages tasked with altering the terrain to slow down opposing forces. They worked against archers from Armath, trained to use the air as both perch and defense, some footsoldiers, and the Movers, primarily plant mages whose job was to keep an advantage for their forces. The other forces had the day off.

The Ilvan army was a legendary one for a reason, and Ivy could care less. She’d seen these people practice hundreds of times before, and the military would never be her job.

“Why do we have an army after centuries of peace?” Ivy asked, “Training daily to do nothing.”

“There’s a mortal term,” her mother explained, “Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

“Which means?”

“Your mother is a diplomat, she speaks with kind words and platitudes, saving us from a million offenses every time she has a conversation. I am a soldier, I am the threat that keeps her alive, along with our people, including your scribe.”

“My scribe?” Ivy asked. She and Garret had kept their meetings a secret, not that Ivy had actually expected that secret to last.

“How easily do you think your mother can stop the Phoenix King when he finds out we have his other child?”

Queen Oleander was a gifted mage, but the power of a Phoenix was something else, especially combined with wrath or desperation, and Ivy had brought the potential of such a threat to their doorstep.

“She can’t.”

“That’s why we have an army,” Mistletoe said, gesturing to the practice, “This army, to keep us all alive when our neighbors tire of us.”

Ivy watched them again. Each force was at least a third elven, allowing for healing in the case of injury. Most had weapons to direct their power, granting them further fighting chance beyond their magek; those without weapon used shields, defending their fellows in case of emergency.

“Why do we have the elites train against each other like this?” Ivy asked.

“Because whatever power one mage has, another can manage similar, and I refuse to be caught off guard.”

Preparations were already on their way for the next sovereign council, in Mineria. Ivy had petitioned to attend this one, with the excuse that it would be a chance to further rebuild her friendship with Princess Marina. Her real reason was to check on Reuben, for Garret’s sake. If Solam had even a hint of Garret’s existence, Reuben might know about it, and probably mention it.

She couldn’t force her way into his graces though. He’d obviously been more charmed by Marina, but Marina was a political minefield, for everyone. Ivy was just a random Ilvan princess as far as anyone else knew.

“Sumac and Nettle are joining you,” Oak warned as he joined her in the palace library. Though significantly smaller than Everin, it offered solitude and time to think.

“Why?” Ivy complained. Sumac and Nettle were born between Oak and Ivy, and had the most vicious rivalry she had ever endured. On her sixth birthday, they insisted on her choosing a winner between their identical gifts. She chose Oak’s just to shut them up.

“Mineria encourages fights between the young entourage,” Oak reminded.

Ivy groaned. She’d completely forgotten about the fights in her planning. Minerian tradition dictated that their royalty had to be good fighters, or at least have the respect of those who fought better than them. For some reason, they applied this logic to the potential heirs of other kingdoms, so while most kingdoms would occupy the young entourage with tours, lessons, and the occasional dance, Mineria had a fight club. Ivy hadn’t attended last time Mineria hosted, and now she remembered why.

“I’ll need to pack extra sets of clothes.”

Though she could potentially manipulate the kelp around the depths, it was less compatible than the plants on land. The disadvantage would leave her falling in the water many times.

“But at least I’ll get to see Reuben smite Ingvi,” she consoled.

“What makes you so sure he’ll win that confrontation?”

“Reuben was a furnace when Marina and I met him. Ingvi is powerful but uncontrolled. Not to mention if it becomes a matter of bodies, Reuben is clearly the stronger of the two.”

Marina wouldn’t be happy with the result though. Any blow to Ingvi’s ego, she took as a threat to Mineria. Ivy didn’t care enough to prove her wrong. The council was several months away and Ivy was already exhausted by the politics.

“Are you going to see your scribe?” Oak asked. He was the only one Ivy had told about Garret’s kiss, and the noncommittal discussion they’d continued between small meetings.

“Did you tell mom about us?”

“Of course not. They both could tell from the moment you offered them asylum. He’s been yours since you met him.”

Ivy accepted it.

“So was it the Forged Prince that helped you make up with Princess Marina, or your own volition?” Oak asked, “Since you want to go to Mineria and visit her.”

“I intended to bury the hatchet before meeting Reuben. I’d like to be on the bad side of the least amount of our allies as possible.”

“Ingvi’s a lost cause I take it.”

“Utterly abandoned to the whims of the wild.”

“Treated you like a spare for being the middle child?” Oak asked.

“I don’t think he understands our customs,” Ivy defended, smiling at his foolishness.

“I’ve almost been tempted to out you on several occasions when he tries to speak with me.”

“That you’ll be the one in charge of smacking him for insulting me?” she asked.

“Like Mom did to his uncle before you were born? Absolutely.”

“I cannot in good conscience give you permission to smack Prince Ingvi,” Ivy declared, “No matter how much his smug face deserves it.”

“Ingvi respects power,” Oak said, “But he can’t fathom the idea of keeping it to oneself. One of these days he’ll learn a hard lesson, I hope I’ll get to witness it.”

“Maybe you should have asked to go to Mineria,” Ivy said.

“And separate Sumac and Nettle? They’re worse apart than they are together.”

Ivy rolled her eyes.

“I’ll give you all the details when Reuben destroys him.”

After finally acquiring a shared moment of rest, Ivy sat with Garret in a secluded meadow just walking distance from his cabin.

“The scribes have been talking about the next council,” Garret said, “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“The council is important of course,” he explained, “It was a great honor for me to attend, but we don’t—didn’t—really talk about it in Kitaba. Here, I can barely ask about anything without them saying which princets are attending and what the agenda is likely to be. I heard you’ll be going by the way.”

“I want to check on Reuben, see how he’s doing.”

“Why?” Garret asked in an offended tone.

“Because he’s your brother,” Ivy explained, “And if Solam is looking for your mother, then he’s the best way to find out.”

“Why would Solam be looking for my mother? He didn’t look for her before.”

“Because he has Reuben now, meaning he knows his family is somewhere. If fate is kind, he will be satisfied with his son and heir, but if not, then you and your mother could be in grave danger.”

“If my mother’s right,” he protested, “Which she might not be. Solam never remarried. He might still care for her. Maybe the person she thinks influenced him against her has been fired.”

Garret was too optimistic.

“If Solam threw away advisers, we would know about it,” Ivy said, “And he hasn’t.”

“Well what if it wasn’t an adviser?” he asked, “What if it was no one?”

“Then Solam’s a threat, to Reuben more so than you.”

She didn’t like Garret’s scowl.

“I know he looks like me, if I were several pounds stronger, but what is he like?”

Ivy shrugged.

“I only spoke to him a few times. He seemed like he was trying to be nice, though he was nicer to Marina until he saw her ring. He seemed angry after we told him about being Solam’s son, which I hadn’t planned on until it was too obvious to pretend I knew nothing, especially when Marina sniffed it out so immediately.”

“You wanted him to remain in the dark?” Garret asked.

“I certainly wasn’t planning to tell him if I had to keep it a secret from you.”

That made him smile for a moment.

“He wasn’t a very good dancer, either.”

That made Garret laugh, and everything was fine again.

“I can ask him for myself anyways,” he said.

“How?” Ivy asked.

“I volunteered to go to Mineria,” Garret said, “It hasn’t been approved yet, but I thought it could be my last task before I officially decided to court you.”

Ivy was almost too elated at the fact Garret planned to officially to court her to hear the rest of what he said.

“That’s a terrible idea!”

If someone realized who Garret was, and King Solam found out Ilva was hiding him and his mother, it could lead to war.

“I’ll wear a mask, I’m not as big as Reuben is.”

He wasn’t wrong, and wearing Ilvan garb might make him less obvious.

“Why do you care?” Ivy asked, “You’ve already been to a sovereign council. It’s mostly sitting in a room writing down what people say.”

“I like doing that, Ivy, and maybe I want to see my brother in action.”

Garret would try talking to Reuben. It could lead to disaster. How would Reuben respond?

“It’s not like you’ll see him much during your official duties. I doubt Solam will bring him into the council chamber.”

“Will you be in the council chamber?” Garret asked.

If Sumac and Nettle were there, they’d cajole her into being the accompanying child. It was clear to all that neither of them were the heir, and they had no intention of disproving that fact. She should accompany anyways as the true heir.

“I will, which is exactly why you shouldn’t go, because you’ll be biased.”

“You’ll be in an observational role,” Garret said, “You won’t be saying anything for me to write down.”

She just had to fall in love with someone clever.

“Since I won’t be able to talk you out of this, why don’t we stop discussing it?”

Garret shook his head.

“Why don’t you want me to go?”

“Because it’s dangerous,” Ivy said.

“I can deal with the danger.”

“Not just for you. If Solam finds out we’re hiding his wife and child, I don’t know how he’ll respond. In the best case, you would be brought to Phoenix to live with him, and we’d go into negotiations if you still wanted to be with me.”

“And the worst case?”

“In the worst case, we would go to war for violating the Great Treaty by harboring fugitives from another kingdom.”

“My mother and I aren’t criminals,” Garret said.

“No,” Ivy shook her head, “Of course not. It’s why we were willing to grant you asylum, as King Solam never declared his wife a fugitive, but things change. We don’t know how your father feels about your mother, if he even knows you exist.”

Garret looked unhappy.

“And as the initial violators of the treaty, we would have Avalon siding against us. If Renue or Mineria chooses a side, then the other will oppose it, and things could get very messy.”

She was suddenly grateful for their military to prevent that possibility.

“Politics have consequences I suppose,” Garret said, “But I need to know, Ivy.”

She squeezed his hand, unsure what to do. He couldn’t be where Solam could see him, couldn’t be facing forward, but if he stayed hidden…

“That’s it!”

“What?” Garret asked.

“You shouldn’t be the attending scribe,” Ivy said, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t go.”

“Only one scribe from each kingdom is allowed to record.”

“But we don’t just bring scribes.”

She lifted Garret’s hand to her chest.

“If you’re willing to trust me, I will ensure you meet your brother.”

Garret pulled her hands to his chest.

“With all my soul, Ivy.”

They sealed their promise with a kiss.