The Forged King

Sumac and Avery seemed somehow more closely matched than Avery had been against Ingvi. Sumac hit hard, but Avery could predict their moves and counter before hitting at his own pace.

“He’s going easy on them because he’s betrothed to their sister,” Ingvi accused.

“At least he’s giving us something interesting to watch,” Nettle said, “His fight against you was boring.”

“It was a battle of wills,” Marina half-heartedly defended. She was still trying to predict Reuben’s plan against Ingvi. Going to Ivy late at night was proof enough that he didn’t intend to go easy, but was he planning to win?

“What was that you meant about Avery being engaged to one of their sisters?” Reuben asked.

“He and Ivy share one of the first dances every time they’re at the same council meeting,” Ingvi explained, “It’s informal, probably, but if Lady Veilia dies without an heir, Ivy will move to Draconis to rule beside him.”

“Or if Ivy’s the heir,” Nettle countered, “Avery would have to move in with us.”

“So you confirm it,” Ingvi said, “They are betrothed.”

“I confirm nothing,” Nettle said, “Our family’s affairs are none of your business.”

“Ivy?” Reuben asked, “But Ivy—” He stopped himself before finishing his claim.

“Found out she’s unavailable and suddenly developing an interest?” Ingvi accused.

“No, I,” he glanced at the scribe, a girl around their age from Vulcan. Perhaps he was worried about her hearing, “She just doesn’t seem betrothed to me.”

“You don’t know any of us well enough to be sure what we seem like.”

“That’s probably true,” Reuben admitted.

Marina cringed. Ingvi didn’t take kindly to attempts to placate him, even if it was just honesty.

“But I was right that Marina could defeat me,” Reuben added.

Marina’s leg got colder as Ingvi’s hand clenched against it.

“I—” she didn’t want to admit Reuben’s ring had won her the fight. She didn’t know what Ingvi would do about it, “Thank you for being so gracious about your loss.”

Sumac fell with a resounding splash.

Marina began to stand up, but Ingvi pushed her back down.

“I think our Forged Prince needs to understand his place,” he threatened, “Why don’t we fight next?”

“But—” Nettle began.

“Why not?” Reuben asked.

Marina gave him a disapproving scowl. He didn’t even seem to be watching Ingvi, who he was staring right at.

“Fine,” Nettle sighed.

Marina gave a nod when Ingvi looked at her. He held her arm for a moment, making her shiver from the cold.

Reuben didn’t seem to look at her as he left. She didn’t want him to fight for her, of course, but he’d been so reassuring with her before. He seemed to have a wall up that wasn’t there yesterday.

“This one should be more interesting at least,” Nettle said, “Ingvi’s too mad to be a coward.”

“He’s not a coward,” Marina defended.

“He’s not here to see you defend him.”

She left for a seat higher up.

The results of the fight were obvious. Reuben was a smarter and more practical fighter. Even with the water around them lending an advantage to Ingvi’s warmer return, the only way Reuben would actually lose this fight was if he wanted to.

It would end better for Marina if Ingvi won, probably. She didn’t want him to win though. Losing wouldn’t improve anything, but he deserved it.

She could tell Ingvi’s mouth was moving, and not with spellwork. He decided to fight with words, which meant he would say something that would make Reuben throw him off.

She planned her response, following it as soon as Ingvi was thrown off, forming spikes from the rapidly cooled water around him.

She ran to where attendants would pull him, careful not to injure themselves in the process.

She didn’t anticipate how hard his glare would be when they set him in the bed.

“Leave us,” he ordered. Marina gave a nod when the attendants turned to her.

As soon as the tent emptied, he grabbed her by the shirt, creating a snowflake pattern from his fist. His other hand caressed her cheek, leaving a trail of crystals behind his thumb.

“He will not save you,” Ingvi finally said.

She pushed his hands off of her.

“Why would I need to be saved?”

“Exactly.”

She needed to stop whatever jealousy had formed in Ingvi’s mind. She wasn’t some doll for these princes to fight over. She was going to be Ingvi’s consort, and she would be good at it.

“Since you just rushed him about a fight, I’ll assume you were talking about Prince Reuben.”

“You’d know even if I hadn’t fought him.”

“Because you’ve been targeting him. The only person trying to turn what kindling of friendship I have with him into a romance is you. I will marry you. I have chosen to marry you for the sake of both our peoples.”

“But you’d rather it was him.”

“I can’t change your mind on that, so I will tell you this: Whatever feelings I have toward Reuben don’t matter. My feelings toward you, the future king, for whom I will have to bear an heir, do, as do yours toward me. If you do not think you can have a child with me, the reason your family wants this marriage, then call it off.”

She wasn’t supposed to threaten him, but she was tired of indirect politics. Their marriage was never going to be romantic, so jealousy didn’t matter, unless one of them made it matter. She certainly wasn’t going to be that stupid.

Ingvi glared at her, and this time she glared right back.

“I always have to be the one in the wrong, don’t I?”

He began walking out of the recovery room.

“Try being right for once,” Marina offered as he passed her, “And you won’t have to be.”

He grabbed her arm at that comment. Holding it as ice formed around it. It started to hurt in a way it never had before.

“Please let go.”

“Remember this, next time you need to win an argument.”

He let go, and Marina’s arm still hurt. She could tell it wasn’t actually getting warm because it burned, and she couldn’t move it.

She could call an attendant, have them heal her, but they would know exactly how it happened, and word of that would spread. The marriage, and more importantly any treaty of peace, would never happen.

Why did she have to make up for all his mistakes?

She opened the door with her working arm, stepping out with as much poise as she could muster.

“Please let Princet Nettle know I forfeit.”

She had to find someone discreet.

Mirsham slowly heated the water around her arm, very slowly.

“You need a healer,” he insisted.

“A healer was too far away.”

“You were at the arena. The attendants—”

“Are not obligated to the same secrecy.”

Mirsham had a calm expression, aside from the eyes wide with anger.

“You still intend to marry him after this? Marina—”

“Your highness,” she corrected, “In matters of state, you will use my title.”

“Your highness, your arm may never work the same again, and he did this on a whim. What will happen if he ever plans to harm you?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

“If your mother knew—”

“She would have to choose between her child and her subjects. I would never ask her to make that choice.”

“You are her subject too. She swore an oath to care for all under her power.”

A knock on the door stopped their conversation.

“I’m on urgent business,” Mirsham said, “Nothing short of the Queen’s direct order could matter at the moment.”

“Is Princess Marina here?” Ivy asked.

“Come in!” she called.

She couldn’t see Ivy come in, but she heard her.

“Reuben came to you for healing, yes?” Marina asked, “Can you heal my arm?”

Ivy came into view, eyes widening at her arm.

“Is this why you forfeit?” She shoved Mirsham away, green sparks building from her palms as she worked her way up and down the arm. Marina could feel it tingle with feeling again.

“Yes,” she admitted, “A healer seemed too far away.”

“And the attendants wouldn’t be discreet.”

“I knew you’d understand.”

“I understand that Ingvi just made a deliberate attack against a Minerian, which could mean war if it comes to light.”

“But is it enough of an attack for Avalon not to side with them?”

Ivy shook her head, as unsure as Marina was.

“Why should you care?” the servant asked. His voice sounded familiar, “Mineria is one of the strongest kingdoms. What do you care if Renue starts a fight?”

“Avalon is stronger,” Ivy answered, “And if Mineria is determined the aggressor, Avalon will side against them.”

“Not to mention bloodshed,” Marina added, “Our people are not puppets for our amusement, they are our responsibility.”

“Not yours,” the servant noted, “You have taken no vows to defend them. They are not your responsibility.”

Marina’s jaw gaped. This wasn’t a matter of vows. Her family had been over Mineria for generations. She couldn’t disregard that just because her position was undesirable.

“Pardon Garret,” Ivy said, “He’s of newer employ to us, but—”

“Garret?” So that was why she recognized him, “Garret Kitaba?”

Ivy’s eyes widened, but Garret Kitaba bowed.

“Why bring an extra scribe along?” Marina asked, “And isn’t Kitaba in Armath?”

“The Everin scribe watched the ball instead of waiting for Solam and Reuben. Garret was the youngest full scribe at the time as well.”

“So you didn’t need me to get your spot in Everin then,” Marina noted, “And you still haven’t answered my first question.”

“I was curious about Prince Reuben,” Garret Kitaba said, “Ivy and her siblings were kind enough to indulge me.”

What made him special enough for Ivy to indulge him? They hadn’t interacted at the Phoenix Council.

Marina glanced at her arm under Ivy’s efforts. It was still a little sore.

“Why would Prince Ingvi hurt you,” Garret Kitaba finally asked, “You’re his betrothed, his future.”

“You are not here officially as a scribe, it is none of your business.”

“Of course, your highness.”

“Why did you search for me, anyways? Not that I’m ungrateful.” Marina asked.

On their own affairs, the pair were surprisingly silent.

“We managed to repair some of our relationship last season,” Ivy finally explained, “I was hoping to finish the repairs for this one, but as Sumac and Nettle would never watch the council—”

“Your responsibility got in the way.”

Ivy nodded.

They were hiding something, but everyone was hiding something here. It wasn’t Marina’s job to find that out.

The sparks from Ivy’s hands stopped, though the arm was still sore.

“That’s all I can do,” Ivy admitted, “I’m sorry.”

Marina tested the arm. It hurt a bit to move, but otherwise seemed fine.

“Thank you. Now no one has to know.”

“Prince Ingvi will have a lot to make up for,” Garret Kitaba said.

Marina didn’t look at him.

“I shouldn’t have made him angry.”

“He wanted to be angry and you were the nearest target,” Mirsham insisted.

“I—”

“My mother was forced to run from her home after my father hurt her,” Garret Kitaba said, “She claims other people manipulated him. I think she just doesn’t want to admit she could be with someone who could be that cruel. Maybe you’re blaming yourself because you don’t want to blame whoever put you in this situation.”

What would he know of Marina’s reasons?

She left the room without a word.

Marina entered the ball with her family, dressed as fine as possible without restricting movement. She did ask for less weight on her arms to minimize the pain of moving her recovering one.

“Who have you been ordered to dance with?” Neri whispered as they followed their mother.

“No one. I know where I must start. I take it you’ve been ordered to dance with someone.”

“Princess Ivy,” he said, “The Sylvans are all enviable partners, or she may be queen someday.”

Why did Neri have to hold such interest in her friends? Not that he actually seemed interested in Ivy beyond the diplomatic.

“Queen Clarisse,” was announced, “Prince Neri, and Princess Marina.”

Their mother offered the first dance to King Gandr in honor of their peace lasting a season. Marina came up to Ingvi a few paces later, and Neri bowed to Ivy.

“I’m glad to see you found a healer,” Ingvi said.

“And you’re very lucky I did,” she said. Defend him as she must to others, Marina would not pretend he was unaccountable.

“I’m sorry I let my temper affect the way I treated you.”

She should return the apology, but she didn’t really owe him one. She needed to be his partner if this marriage was to be of any value.

“We are never going to love each other,” Marina said, “We may never even like each other, but we will be partners, and for that we have to trust each other. I understand maintaining a certain level of caution given our family histories, but we will never manage anything if one of us always has to bow to the whims of the other.”

“You want me to trust you with Prince Reuben.”

“I want you to trust me with anyone.”

“He is not anyone. He doesn’t understand our rules, and he knows that if circumstances had differed, he would be the one marrying you.”

“And if that were the case I’d hold him to the same standard. He has less ancestral enmity to worry about, but that is exactly why you are the more valuable partner. That marriage was because my mother considers Solam a friend, and wanted to keep him as such. This one is for our peoples, to insure they never go to all out war. You have nothing to envy.”

Ingvi didn’t smile, likely searching for a way to twist Marina’s words against her again.

“I will do my best, Marina. It’s just…” his glance turned to where Reuben stood beside Solam, “Am I the only one who thinks he’s dangerous?”

“Everyone here is dangerous, Ingvi.”

“I know that, but he’s different.”

“He wasn’t raised like us.”

“I just worry Solam will be so grateful to have his son again, he will overlook any problems he causes.”

“So why bully him?”

“Because he can’t be allowed too much influence.”

Ingvi’s concerns weren’t complete nonsense, as much as Marina wanted to toss them out of her mind, but his methods left much to be desired.

“And I am your excuse to curb it?” Marina asked.

“I suppose so.”

She didn’t have long before their dance was done.

“He is not the only whose influence with our peers merits concern.”

The music stopped, and they bowed to each other.

Marina found Ivy before Avery could, offering her hand to lead a dance.

Ivy didn’t hesitate as the dance started. Marina was surprised she didn’t start trying to lead herself.

“So, is war imminent?” Ivy asked.

“That is none of your concern,” Marina said, “Ilva is uninvolved in this marriage.”

“But we’d be involved if there was a war.”

“Why would you involve yourselves?”

“You aren’t the only pieces on the board. What affects one kingdom affects them all. War does not go quietly, especially with how connected Magek is. War between two kingdoms—”

“Is war between all of them,” Marina finished, “Do you know what side you would choose?”

“Whichever leaves most of our people surviving. Our morals need only go as far as our borders.”

Marina sighed, choosing to trust her friend.

“I didn’t ask for my marriage to be a tool of fate.”

“Fate isn’t always negative, and you aren’t the only tool of it here.”

“Do you mean Reuben?”

“I mean everyone. Things are calm because we all know its better to remain calm. If any of us go to war, we all have to choose if we wait until our hand is forced, or end the fight before it reaches our borders.”

Marina took stock of the room: Neri danced with Duke Anarri while watching Lord Avery with disdain. King Solam and Queen Oleander seemed to enjoy dancing with each other well enough, but the conversation they were having was clearly tense. Sovereign Odde danced with King Gandr while the latter seemed to be explaining something to them. The only person who didn’t seem to be building a battle plan was Lady Diligence, and her only influence was as an adviser anyways.

“It won’t happen if I can help it,” Marina said, “Our emotions aren’t worth war.”

“But they may cause it anyway.”

“Reassuring as always, Ivy.”

Ivy pressed her lips together.

“I could tell you were handling Ingvi earlier. It gives me more confidence that war at least won’t be started anytime soon, not by your kingdoms at least.”

Marina nodded. At least Ivy was trying to be reassuring.

“So why sneak in Garret Kitaba?” Marina asked under her breath.

“It’s not sneaking in. He’s just a temporary servant.”

“Right, so I’m sure you’d love me to announce his presence to everyone.”

Ivy’s eyes widened with panic.

“I thought as much. Is that why he couldn’t come as a scribe?”

“No,” Ivy admitted, “He can’t come as scribe because it would be a conflict of interest.”

“How so?”

“He’s courting me.”

No wonder she kept him close.

“But Lord Avery…”

“An informal arrangement.”

Ilva was a very different place. She couldn’t imagine throwing away a diplomatic betrothal so haphazardly.

“Does Lord Avery know?” Marina asked.

“He knows the likelihood of our marriage has steeply dropped, but none of the details.”

“Why is Garret interested in Reuben?”

“His return is what earned Garret a spot in Everin, it’s natural to get attached after that.”

“None of the others who recorded his return are here.”

“The others were all established, their fate has little to do with Reuben. Garret’s is linked for possibly the rest of their lives.”

Marina doubted that, but the music was nearing its end, and she didn’t need to end this dance with further interrogation.

She bowed, and turned to find someone else only to find Reuben bowing to her.

“People are watching,” Marina noted, Ingvi’s stare most noticeable.

“Perhaps if they keep watching, then they’ll hold Ingvi to a higher standard.”

She didn’t have a counter to that, so she took his hand and let him lead her in the dance.

He didn’t say anything to her, and she wouldn’t dare break the silence. He noticed her wince once when moving her arm too far and adjusted himself to be gentler.

The fantasy crept back in, and she didn’t bother fighting it. For this one dance, they were in a different reality with their marriage only a few years away. Their steps were awkward, but perfection wouldn’t be anywhere near as enjoyable.

“I’m sorry if I seemed aloof earlier today,” Reuben interrupted, “I, uh, am still learning a few things it seems, so the adjustment left me reasoning not much farther than myself.”

“You have—” If he hadn’t provoked Ingvi, however unintentional, then perhaps Marina’s arm wouldn’t be injured, “Thank you for your apology. It means a good deal to be worth the effort.”

He smiled, awkwardly, and she did her best not to look too close into his eyes.

“I’m not accusing my father of anything,” he explained, “But my mother took us away because she felt unsafe. I would like to mitigate that fate for others I think.”

The second time someone compared her situation to their mothers. The second time said mother ran away.

Garret Kitaba’s voice didn’t sound familiar because it was his. It sounded familiar because it was Reuben’s, or at least close enough to confuse.

She tried to remember the color of Garret’s eyes, but he always kept them covered, likely to avoid the confusion.

Ivy was hiding Solam’s second son.

The music stopped, and Reuben was watching her with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Did he even know he had a brother? That had to be why Garret came here, but how close would he be willing to get?

“I’ll be alright,” Marina assured, “Thank you for the dance.”