Hello, beautiful people. Okay, so let's talk Mareven. God, why do I always ship the problematic faves with the heroines? So Glass Sword comes out tomorrow and nobody knows how excited I am. There's a disturbing lack of fanfics for these books, so here's my little contribution. Let me know what you guys think!

"I can save you."

Those four words caused my skin to crawl, my stomach to churn, but they also gave me a glimmer of hope. Not for myself, no. I do not deserve such luxuries. But for Cal, and the Scarlet Guard, and my family. I cannot let them die.

I lock eyes with Maven's watery blue ones and I can see that behind all the lies and deceit that he truly cares about me, but none of that matters now. I trusted him, opened my heart to the possibility of him, and he crushed it.

"Your father loved you, Maven. You didn't see it, but he did."

"A lie."

"He loved you and you killed him!" The words come faster, spilling like blood from a vein. "Your brother loved you and you made him a murderer. I—I love you. I trusted you. I needed you. And now I'm going to die for it."

"I am king. You will live if I want you to. I will make it so."

"And how will you do that?" I fire back, testing the waters. "Your mother would never allow it."

Maven grits his teeth, chewing on his next words, contemplating.

"She will be dealt with." He speaks with an air of finality.

For the past month, I had been putting on the show of my life, lying with every breath I took. Now, it was time to truly test how far I could go.

"You've done terrible, awful things, Maven, but it doesn't change the way I feel about you. What kind of person does that make me?" I begin to cry, finally succumbing to the emotional stress of the events starting from the day I hit that electricity shield.

I should be stronger than this, but when Maven scoops me into his arms, I find myself sinking into his embrace, and hating myself more and more by the second.

I don't meet Cal's gaze as his brother, the traitor, carries me out of the cell.

On the day of the execution, I almost wish I were down there with Cal.

"His Majesty, Maven of House Calore and House Merandus, the King of Norta, Flame of the North, and Her Majesty, Princess Mareena of House of Titanos, soon to be Calore." The cry rings with fanfare as Maven and I step foot into our private box overlooking the arena. We're cloaked in jewels and finery, and I've had enough champagne to dull the ache in my heart for Cal.

He will escape, I know it, but he will escape thinking I betrayed him, when really; I'm doing this partially for him.

"My citizens." Maven's voice resonates through the stadium. He sounds like his father, like Cal, but there's something sharper in his voice. He's only seventeen, and already a monster. "My people, my children."

"Some would call this a cruelty," Maven continues. "My father's body is barely cold, his blood still stains the floor, and I have been forced to take his place, to begin my reign in such a violent shadow. We have not executed our own for ten years and it pains me to begin that awful tradition again. But for my father, for my crown, for you, I must. I am young, but I am not weak. Such crimes, such evil will be punished."

Down below us, the crowd jeers for death; eating up every word their new monarch is feeding them. I vaguely ponder where Elara is. I would figure the queen would revel in the death of her stepson.

Time slows as I see Lucas, my former friend, walk into the arena. I gasp, instinctively gripping onto Maven's wrist, until I remember that it's his fault that Lucas is being put to death in the first place. I attempt to move my hand, but Maven encloses it in his own shaking palm.

"Lucas of House Samos, for crimes against the crown, for collusion with the terrorist organization known as the Scarlet Guard, I declare you guilty. I sentence you to die. Submit to execution."

And then Lucas is walking up the incline, to his own death. He doesn't spare a glance for me. Not that I deserve one. He's dying, not just because of what we made him do, but also for what I am. Like the others, he knew there was something strange about me. And like the others, he will die. When he disappears through the far gate, I have to turn away and stare at the wall. The gunshots are hard to ignore. The crowd roars, pleased by the violent display.

I watch Lucas's body be dragged away, leaving a streak of silver blood across the sand. A wave of sickness passes over me, and I have to bite my lip.

This is all my fault. All my fault. All my fault. My fault.

Next, Cal steps on to the silver-soaked sand, glaring up at us as he does so. All around the arena, videos of the king's death begin to play, condemning Cal of his so called crimes for all the lords and ladies in attendance to see.

"Prince Tiberius the Seventh, of House Calore and House Jacos, you are accused of many violent and deplorable offenses against the crown, including deception, treason, terrorism, and murder."

Cal scowls, and I want nothing more than to remind Maven that his hands are no cleaner than the rest of ours, but I must play my role.

"I pronounce you guilty of your crimes. Submit to execution."

Instead of pleading with the crowd or begging for his life, Cal salutes, two fingers to his brow. It's better than punching Maven across the face and he draws back, disappointed.

I gaze impassively down at the scene before me, expecting to see the gunmen who murdered Lucas, but I'm greeted with a completely different sight.

I don't know where they came from or when but five figures appears in the dust.

Cal just might be able to survive without any outside help. He's a warrior, a soldier. Five on one might even be fair for him.

But Cal furrows his brow, his attention on his executioners. They come into sharper focus and fear rolls through me. I know their names and abilities, some much better than others. All of them ripple with strength, in armor and uniforms meant for war.

A strongarm Rhambos to tear him apart, the Haven son who will disappear and choke him like a shadowed ghost, and Lord Osanos himself to drown Cal's fire.

Don't forget the other two. The magnetrons.

It's almost poetic, really. In matching armor, with matching scowls, Evangeline and Ptolemus stare him down, their fists bristling with long, cruel knives.

And to think the sickly sweet Evangeline was faking her undying love for the crown prince just days ago. But then again, so was I.

Next to me, Maven's voice croaks out.

"Let him die."

The electricity field bursts into existence, teasing me, begging me to do something as the tingling sensation of my power coming to life runs through my veins.

The executioners move steadily, like wolves stalking prey. They spread out across the middle of the arena, each one ready to advance. Somewhere, metal scrapes and a piece of the arena floor slides away, revealing a sloshing pool of water at Lord Osanos's feet. He smiles, drawing the water up to him in a menacing shield. I remember his daughter Tirana dueling Maven in Training. She destroyed him.

All around, the crowd jeers. Ptolemus roars with them, letting his famed temper take over. He smacks at his armor, ringing it like a bell. At his side, Evangeline spins her knives, sliding them over her knuckles with a grin.

They're all out for blood, minds twisted by Maven's lies, but who am I to judge, for I too believed his lies.

If Cal dies today, I don't know what I'll do.

The Haven son, Stralian, grins to himself. Like his sister Elane, he is a shadow. When he flickers out of being, disappearing in the bright sunlight, Cal moves faster than I thought possible, swinging out his arm in a wide arc like he's throwing a haymaker punch.

A roar of flame follows his arm, burning up the sand, separating us from them. But the fire is surprisingly weak. The sand will barely burn.

I can't stop myself from glancing back at Maven, wanting to scream at him, only to find he's still staring at me with that insufferable crooked smirk.

This is all just a game to him, a way to prove his superiority over his brother to me.

Revulsion pulses through me and I'm sure I'm going to vomit.

The scene below me merges into one indiscernible blur, until I hear a high-pitched shrieking.

"You were supposed to be mine!" a voice screams, and I turn to see Evangeline standing over Cal, her blade raised. Ptolemus has wrestled Cal to the ground, the two of them rolling through the sand with Evangeline haunting over them, her knives peppering the ground around him. "Mine!"

Suddenly, I see a flash of something. Another executioner materializes into the arena and all hope of Cal escape this alive bleeds out of me, until I get a better glimpse on a screen near me.

Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and flushed scarlet; Shade Barrow.

It can't be. My brother was murdered. He can't be here.

And yet he is, pulling Evangeline off of Cal, and flashing out of existence the same way he suddenly came, taking the prince with him.

I hear the words of my former mentor echo through my mind.

"Not red, nor silver, but a mixture of the two. Better, even."

Shade was alive, and he had an ability no Silver could ever dream of, and he used it to save Cal.

I press my lips into a smile as Maven shoots up next to me, removing his hand from mine. He grips the railing of the balcony, absolutely speechless.

He glances back at me, expecting some sort of knowing look on my face, but he sees that I'm just as surprised as he is, if not a little amused as well.

Pandemonium erupts amongst the nobility as the executioners try to hide their confusion, but not even King Maven's lies can soothe them right now.

And I? I was just grateful that the Scarlet Guard could do what I couldn't- save Cal.

But there would be hell to pay, and I would have to be the one to hand over the payment to Maven.

to be continued... LET ME KNOW HOW YOU LIKED GLASS SWORD SO WE CAN FANGIRL TOGETHER