He meets his mother's steely gaze with feigned indignation, her voice inside his head, a quiet reminder of the plan that lies between them. Cal grabs his arm to put him back in place, and Maven lets him do it easily. Let him think he's doing the right thing; his ego is large enough as it is anyway. Maven feels a twinge of disgust as he stares down at the girl before him, his soon-to-be fiancee; his gaze raking over her sunken eyes and dirty fingernails. A rat, street trash. Still, there's a certain fire in her wide brown eyes that makes him rethink his words.
She asks his name, despite hearing it only half an hour before, turning towards him with almost mocking smile and he has to grit his teeth to keep from attacking her. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and her eyes gleam with victory. He wonders what she wants. Attention? A death sentence?
He doesn't feel pity towards the girl, not yet anyway. If he knew her better, he might even say she deserved it. The girl needed to put in place, with that wild tongue of hers. With a quiet sigh at the weeks to come, he allows his servants to herd him upstairs to dress for the ball.
She looks different in the dress, with her hair sleek and shiny and her makeup done to perfection. He thinks for a minute that she looks beautiful, but quickly pushes the thought away. Even the pounds of foundation and the diamonds around her neck can't hide the fear behind her silent mask, her much too thin body trembling slightly as she struggles to remain in control.
He feels something akin to sympathy for the girl, especially as Evangeline Samos tenses in her seat, looking all but ready to leap across the room and sink her claws into the Red. He steps forward at his mother's insistent nudge, stammering slightly over the words his father had been drilling into his head not one hour earlier.
The girl's voice is quiet, though her hands tremble with nervous, "I pledge myself to you, Maven Calore. I accept."
He can see how desperately she fights to hide the trepidation she must feel on the inside. The next few weeks won't only be hard for him, he realizes. He starts to step back, but pauses and gives her the smallest of encouraging smiles.
Her eyes meet his for a split second, and he thinks he may see some gratitude there before his mother pulls him back.
She does an excellent job of ignoring him, he notes with a mixture of amusement and irritation. She pointedly avoids his gaze and ignores every conversation he attempts to strike up. She's a piece of work, he thinks grimly. Though her stubbornness might have something to do with all the alcohol she's singlehandedly consuming. Without another thought, he pulls her goblet right out of her hands, "That's enough of that."
She frowns, muttering in annoyance. He fights the urge to roll his eyes, instead leaning forward on his elbows and forcing as much sincerity as he can muster into his voice, "I'm sorry about earlier, Mareena."
She looks away from him, "I'm sure you are." Her voice is snide. He bristles; who does she think she she is?
He looks at her intently, hoping his explanation will weaken that cold wall of hers. Sure enough, her eyes soften just the slightest bit and she glances around, "Who would you have chosen?"
It catches him off-guard and he follows her gaze, his eyes skimming over the multitude of noble young women in the room. He recalls another face then, one he might've loved, but shoves the image away before he can dwell on it. He shrugs casually, "No, I didn't have anyone in mind. But it was nice to have the option of a choice, you know?"
She smarts at his words, and opens her mouth slightly before pressing her lips tightly together. He wonders if his words have somehow upset her, and inches forward, indulging her a bit further.
He's surprised at the anger in her voice when she speaks, her voice barely a whisper, "You and your brother have everything, Prince Maven. You live in a palace, you have strength, you have power. You wouldn't know hardship if it kicked you in the teeth, and believe me, it does that a lot. So excuse me if I don't feel sorry for either of you."
She meets his gaze without flinching, and anger wells in his chest. He's a prince, for God's sake, does she honestly think she can speak to him this way? But his rage fades as he remembers a dying boy's last words, the glimpse of a desolate village on the way to battle, and the emptiness in Mare's eyes when he'd first seen her.
"You're right, Mareena," he breathes, "No one should feel sorry for me."
The pity is bright in her gaze and she lifts her hand hesitantly, as though she might put it on his arm before lowering it back to the table. She's quiet for the rest of the night and he breathes a sigh of relief when his father stands. He follows, pulling Mare to her feet and taking her hand. He mutters the names of the other nobles as they pass, and she leans into him slightly to hear. She smells like flowers, he thinks out of the blue, her hand warm inside of his much larger one.
He meets Cal's gaze just before they exit and his brother raises one single questioning eyebrow. Sure enough, the space between him and Mare has grown smaller than appropriate. He steps back, wondering if the girl had even noticed and why on earth he hadn't.
His parents break apart as soon as they're out of view, the queen dismissing the rest of them with her quiet authority. Cal steps forward just as he does, volunteering to escort Mare and Evangeline back to their rooms. He glances at his brother, startled. Does Cal look...threatened? His eyes dart warily between Maven and Mare.
"I can take Mareena, Mavey can escort Evangeline," Cal offers quickly and their father agrees, though his eyes narrow a bit. Maven purses his lips at the nickname, his gaze slipping to his fiancee, wondering if she's picked up on it. The corner of her lip is turned upwards, a small smirk.
Sighing, he holds out his hands to his brother's fiancee, a she-devil in disguise. She snipes at him, and he finds himself stepping back, unnerved by her aggression. Is she always like this? He feels a twinge of pity for his older brother.
He looks back at Mare, noticing the rigidness of her stance as she remains at his brother's side. She's not even looking at Cal. "Goodnight, Mareena," he says, and her gaze locks on his for a second as she gives him a tiny smile.
Strangely enough, there's a smile on his face as he takes Evangeline's arm. But the bitch is quick to wipe it off.