Just recently finished Glass Sword and was struck with plot bunnies. I couldn't get this scene out of my head. Basically, it's a short glimpse of Maven's journey to the Dark Side. Set 2 years prior Red Queen, so Cal is 18 and Maven is 15.

Reds were milling about in the square, following their masters like the slaves that they are. If I were king, they'd be in collars and chains.

The double doors swung open and my brother came in, in all his crowning glory. The instant our eyes met, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and he sported a rare, weary look.

I inwardly snickered. "I had a servant bring leftovers when I heard your return," I said, gesturing to the glistening tray on the side table. The bowl was filled to the brim with scones. A second later, Cal's hand was picking through it.

I settled on the couch beside him. "I'm guessing you barely touched your food during your meeting with the Samos?"

My older brother scoffed, pushing back his hair. "Like I could, with Evangeline breathing down my neck."

"I'm sure." Sitting on the edge, I prodded, "So, what's the verdict regarding that waste of a land. Corros, is it?"

Cal brushed off the crumbs with a napkin. "A compound for metal waste, possibly. Or training ground for Red soldiers. Father remains undecided."

Another manufacturing sector would be better, for sure, with twice as many Reds than New Town. Or possibly even a prison for -

"Don't think much of it, Mavey," Cal chided, "Nothing to worry yourself with."

So I think of nothing, then? Where is my worth in that? I mentally retaliated, but pressed my lips shut.

I was playing with my flamemaker bracelet, thinking of what to burn first, when a cutting voice split the air.

"Tiberias."

I looked up at my mother at the entrance while Cal straightened to his feet, jaw clenched.

Mother brushed me off with a look, focusing on my brother. "Your father asks for you at the throne room."

Immediately, Cal strode away, all princely and powerful. I watched him leave the room with piercing eyes.

Mother's attention focused solely on me. She walked closer. Especially in her vibrant gown, she was the epitome of elegance, of Queen. Most of all, feared. Respected. Any other person would cower at the close distance with her highness. But not me. Her son, her only son.

Then why am I looking down at my feet.

Mother pulled my chin up with a finger and I was met with kind, familiar blue eyes. "Watch yourself, my boy. You're letting people step over you like a worthless Red, merely a shadow."

I clenched my fists; my eyes flaring fire.

A small smirk graced Mother's lips. "You're of royalty, Maven, of House Calore. Act like it and someday you're going to hold the whole of Norta in your hands."

I raised my chin up. Own my own, this time, and smiled. "Yes, Mother."