Chapter 12

Iron in the Fire

Nine minutes, twenty-three seconds.

Maven stood by the entrance of the arena, eyeing the lone clock set there. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look nonchalant as the clock ticked on. His impatience had led him ten minutes earlier than the schedule for Training, leaving him alone with no one but himself and his two Sentinels waiting for the other participants.

Seven minutes, fifty-seven seconds.

The doors opened with a heavy clang of metal against metal. Evangeline Samos arrived with a frown plastered on her face. Behind her, Ptolemus followed, keeping close eye on his younger sister. When the two magnetrons noticed the prince, they shared a glance, but only Ptolemus had the manners to greet Maven with a curt nod. Maven fought the urge to scowl at his brother's betrothed; no matter how intelligent Cal was, his chose for a bride was exceedingly poor.

The Samos siblings found a bench across the arena and waited there.

Maven was about to look at the clock again when the doors opened, with Cyrine Macanthos locked in a friendly conversation with Andros Eagrie, an eye who could see the immediate future. Maven thought including Andros in training was just a waste of time, but he spared both Cyrine and Andros a little nod as they passed him by.

Five minutes.

More and more elite teens poured in: Atara Viper, Heron Welle, Sonya Iral, Elane Haven, and even Oliver Laris, a windweaver and one of Cal's closest friends.

"Maven!" Oliver called out, ever so enthusiastic about every little thing. "Why are you lingering by the entrance? Waiting for big brother, are you?"

Definitely not. Maven forced a smile, not quite fond how Oliver treated him like a child. He tore his eyes off the clock and stared at the windweaver, whose warm hazel eyes looked back at him. "I am waiting for Lady Titanos."

"Ah, but of course!" Oliver slapped his forehead, laughing at himself. "Waiting for your princess…"

"Have you had the chance to meet her?"

"Not yet, but you must introduce her to me formally, Maven. I heard she's quite interesting, especially with that background of hers."

Maven almost winced, remembering the charade everyone in his family had to play for Mare.

"How is she coping with the life here at court?" Oliver asked earnestly. "It must be hard for her, considering how she was raised in a Red village." Before the prince could defend his betrothed, Oliver added, "But I can see she's a natural."

With brows furrowed, Maven turned around to look where Oliver was nodding, and fair enough, Mare arrived with Lucas Samos at her heels, the personal bodyguard Queen Elara had chosen for her. Lucas whispered something and Mare replied with a small smile, before the officer nodded and left. At once, Evangeline, Sonya, and Elane approached Mare, with the intentions of the not-so-friendly kind.

"I need to go," Maven told Oliver.

"Of course." Oliver stalked off towards Andros and Cyrine, in hopes of sparking a conversation.

"Graduated from Protocol already? Did you finally master the art of sitting with your legs crossed?" Evangeline mocked Mare, as Sonya and Elane flanked her sides.

Maven stepped forward, letting his scowl show. "That's enough from the three of you."

Evangeline stood her ground against the prince. She was a year older than he was, and though a few inches shorter, anyone could see the obvious gap between their abilities. Evangeline might be a highborn lady, but she was trained by her father and brother to be a ruthless fighter. The sudden flair of her temper showed when a dagger clinked against her spiky belt, hoping to draw a fight.

It might be another clash, had not Cal arrived.

The crown prince looked like a handsome knight in his black leather training suit, slashed with red and silver on the sleeves to show that he was of House Calore, the family of burners. Beside him, Alix walked, matching Cal's steps with her own, and still moved with the grace of a dancer. Both were engaged in a conversation, and an amusing one at that, judging at how Cal's warm laughs resonated in the arena.

Maven's eyes narrowed at the sight of them, so close to each other that one could have mistaken Alix to be Cal's betrothed.

"Who's that?" Mare interrupted his train of thoughts, pointing towards a pale elderly robed in white. "I think I must have seen him somewhere."

"That's Rane Arven," he answered, grateful for her distraction. "One of the finest executioners Norta has ever had, and the Burning Crown values House Arven very greatly. Their abilities are considered rare and more valuable than most."

"He doesn't look like an executioner to me," Mare whispered. "He's more like a grandfather who might breathe his last breath any moment soon."

Maven laughed. "Don't let him hear you though."

Everyone who used their abilities in the arena suddenly stopped: Oliver's whirlwinds faded into dust, Atara's hawk companion flew off, and even Evangeline's daggers dropped to the ground. All turned around to see that the instructor had arrived with his telky assistant.

"Laps," Lord Arven said in barely a whisper.

The teens started off, from jogging to sprinting and racing each other around. Maven ran closely beside Mare, keeping an eye on her as she raced towards Evangeline. Even though he was loath to admit to himself that being betrothed to her was the last thing he ever wanted, he still felt the need to watch over her, as if he was responsible for her. Well, she is my betrothed for the time being. When he was sure that Evangeline was not going to throw daggers at Mare, he set his eyes somewhere else.

To Cal and Alix.

Cal led the group, setting the pace for everyone, ensuring that he remained at the head while no one was left behind. He was still occupied in a conversation with Alix. Even as the floor shifted and the wall cracked because of Provos's ability, the two seemed dauntless and continued sprinting.

Suddenly, the wall caught Mare unaware and knocked her down to the ground.

Maven had to slow down; he simply had to. "Welcome to training," he teased. "You all right?"

"I got it." Mare panted and began to try again, with Maven not so far behind her.

After the laps, Instructor Arven commanded his charges to practice targeting the disks Theo Provos continuously threw into the air, while the instructor himself was comfortable under the shade. Once he looked at Mare and acknowledged her presence, asked her to display her rare ability, and that was it. He did no more recognition of her presence or ability; he simply moved on to the next part of training.

The first match was between Tirana Osanos and Heron Welle. Maven noticed that the nymph looked particularly ready to fight, seeing the glint of excitement in her dark blue eyes. Heron, however, seemed to be not in the mood, but trudged towards the center all the same. The battle began as quickly as Tirana leeched water from the air, sent a tide to the greenwarden, hoping to drown her. But Heron answered with grove of trees springing from the floor, tall enough to counter Tirana's tsunami.

Mare watched with little interest, until her brown eyes filled with life as Tirana delivered the final blow. She had trapped Heron in a vortex of water. A few moments later, the greenwarden surrendered after feats of coughing and wheezing.

Cyrine Macanthos volunteered to fight, pointing her index finger to Elane Haven. The shadow girl simply smiled and agreed, her eyes watching the stoneskin with great caution.

If Maven heard correctly, Elane was set to be betrothed soon. His gaze went to Evangeline, who stood in front of the crowd, seemingly nervous. Did she care for Elane strongly enough to be edgy? The prince did not know, and he did not care. Instead, he tried to search for Cal and Alix. He blinked, the confusion washing him over, when he found Cal standing alone.

Instinctively, he searched in the crowd, seeing the faces of the Silver teens waiting for the match to start. Then, at the farthest end of the audience, Maven saw Alix standing beside Ptolemus, the two of them sharing a conversation good enough to have Alix laughing and Ptolemus touching her waist to keep her from falling. The princess' laugh was loud enough to catch the attention of Instructor Arven, that after Cyrine defeated Elane with a strong punch to the gut, the silence cleared his throat.

Rane Arven's cold, dark eyes searched through the arena, landing on the Samos magnetron and Piedmont princess.

"Princess Alistrine."

Maven noticed the look of defiance in her face and could not help but smirk at her reaction.

Begrudgingly, the princess took up the center of the arena as the spectators huddled closer, eager to watch today's match.

"I hope she gets Evangeline," Mare whispered in Maven's ear, edgy on her feet, almost excited to watch as well.

A princely eyebrow rose. "You want to pit Alix with Evangeline? You're cruel. That fight would surely end up with blood on the floor, and no one would admit defeat."

"But it will be a good match, right?"

"Maybe. However," Maven grumbled, sighing, "Cal would not allow that to happen."

Mare cocked her head to the side, looking curious. "And that's because…?"

"You'll see."

"Why is he still here?" She nodded towards Ptolemus, who remained at the corner, watching.

"He's Alix's escort from now on. I suppose he wants to keep an eye on both her and his sister."

"Evangeline needs no bodyguard. And neither does Alix."

Instructor Arven was still busy deciding which one of the participants to choose. He had seen Prince Cal and Princess Alix in a friendly match, Alix and Evangeline challenging each other, and even Alix daring to choke Sonya on the first day of Training. The others were practically avoiding his eyes, the participants not so keen on fighting a wraith from the south.

Then he finally decided. "Andros."

A short, yet muscular young man trudged into the arena. He almost matched Alix's height, though his big arms and barrel chest suggested he was more of a strongarm than an eye.

"The honor is mine, Your Highness," Andros said, bowing a little.

"And the honor of losing would be yours as well," Alix countered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

An eye against a wraith, Maven thought, guessing which one would win. Maybe Andros has the advantage; he has his ability and strength after all. He could take Alix and knock her out easily.

The instructor asked the audience, "Who has the advantage? Lady Iral?"

Sonya smirked, her dark eyes locked on Alix's. "Andros has the advantage; he is more physically fit than the princess. With his ability, he could outsmart his opponent without a doubt."

"Excellent," Arven murmured, nodding. He turned towards the princess, pouring oil into the fire. "Impress me."

"Oh, I will." Alix scoffed haughtily. "Hold on to your seat, Arven."

Among the audience, Cal was the only one who smiled. Maven remained silent, his heart caught up in his throat at the princess' defiance. Was she out of her mind, talking back to Rane Arven like that?

But the instructor simply waved it off. "Please do begin."

The princess began waving her fingers in the air, taunting Andros, knowing that he would not be caught in her trap. He could see the future, he could easily tell where her shadows would come from and what they could do to him. Instead, she kept him tantalized with the movements of her hand, her golden eyes seductively locked on Andros's grey eyes.

Maven snorted and crossed his arms, well knowing how Alix could fool around with her shadows.

Andros, however, was getting tired of the absence of action. It had been a full minute, then three minutes, with nothing but him staring at the princess and her constant waving and flicking of her hand and fingers. He charged, putting all his strength and weight on his upper body. His ability was in constant use, checking whether the princess would dodge or send shadows to assail him.

She did both, and Andros was unprepared.

Alix sidestepped her opponent as he attempted to tackle her. Andros seemed to have anticipated this, so he whirled to the direction where Alix dodged. He raised his fist to punch her, but at the same time, his shadow emerged from the stone floor and sailed upwards, hitting his jaw. Alix took the distraction to distance herself from the eye and let her shadows dance from there.

The shadows from the other teens followed the flick of her wrist, crowding over Andros as he tried to punch his way out of the tendrils that curled around his feet, wrapped around his waist and neck, forcing him to his knees. Andros's precognition ability proved nothing against the shadows that closed in on him.

"Fight fairly!" Andros screamed from the shadowy dome he was entrapped in.

Alix blinked. "Oh, but I am fighting fairly," she said, her voice all sweet and innocent. "We are fighting using our abilities, are we not? An eye against a wraith. It's your clairvoyance against my shadows, Andros. Or do you mean to say that you are no match against your own shadow?"

While she spoke, Andros's shadow once again took solid form, all black and its soulless black eyes with flecks of golden hidden in it. The shadow towered over Andros and curled its fist, then punched Andros's cheek. The shadow raised its fist, punched again, and again. All over the arena, the spectators began cheering and whistling.

She's a natural. Maven regarded the princess' obvious delight in winning. Cal's right; her fighting style leans more on unpredictability of her shadows.

Then, Andros's shadow disappeared. Alix charged towards her opponent, jumped high and made a show as if she would kick him, but she landed deftly on the floor behind Andros. Despite the shadows detaining him, Andros could still turn his head to search for the princess. She smiled, flicked her index finger upwards, and the shadow tentacles threw Andros up into the air, catching him unaware once again.

Maven sighed and closed his eyes. This match is over before it began.

"Yield!" Andros shouted over the shadows holding him down. "I yield! Get them off me!"

Alix nodded and the tentacles disappeared, leaving her Eagrie opponent panting and sweating. She offered her hand to him. "Are you all right?"

"I will be." Andros continued panting, but still had the energy to grin. "I knew where those shadows of yours would come, but I simply had no time and power to stop all of them at once."

"Ah, the joy of outnumbering our enemies. Prince Tiberias ought to bring that idea to the generals at the war front." She looked at the prince in question and winked. "Either way, it was still an amusing fight, if not ended so early."

"Don't worry, I would train harder."

Rane Arven congratulated the two fighters with a small nod and moved on to the next match. "Oliver, Atara, please take the arena."

Hours after the session was over, Maven still failed to come close to Alix.

He returned to his chambers, moodier than usual, slumping on his great bed with his arms and legs sprawled out. He kicked his boots off and decided to take a nap, when his mother marched right into his room without as much as a knock. Grumbling, he greeted her, watching her taking a seat on the purple velvet couch, her eyes observing him.

"You are scheduled for a meeting with Lord General Laris at dusk," she told him, daintily looking at her long nails. "I see you are not yet prepared, Maven."

"That is today?" he grumbled again, collapsing on the bed. "I was sure that would be tomorrow."

"It was, until he arrived with some of his brood in tow. You've met Oliver today, yes?"

"I did."

"Dress up then, Maven." The queen bound to her feet and dusted off her navy blue skirts. "Coriane's son is already waiting for you downstairs."

He finally stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. He did not need to move; some of the manservants would come once the queen was gone. "Very well. I hope Father keeps Lord Laris to himself, and Cal to Oliver."

Later, Sentinel Marinos and Sentinel Provos escorted the prince towards the River Hall, a blue-green tower that was adjacent to the Hall of the Sun. It was connected to the main residence through a long hallway of diamondglass, beneath it the small streams from the Capital River rushed. The tower itself was not particularly high, only as large as a Silver lord's mansion, but the paint glowed iridescent against the late sunset and the river below. According to the histories, one of the earliest Calore kings commissioned the River Hall for his Osanos wife, a nymph who had drowned the whole arena during her Queenstrial. Because of this, House Osanos grew prouder than ever, grooming their daughters to become queens one day.

But this generation, House Samos conquered them all. Maybe one day Cal would erect a tower for Evangeline. The very thought made Maven shudder.

He crossed the hallway with little attention to his surroundings. He could almost hear his father's bark of laughter with the general, a middle-aged man who wore ribbons and medals wherever he went.

"You're almost late, Mavey." Cal approached, grinning at his brother.

"Better late than never. What did I miss?"

"Oh, just Father meeting the rest of House Laris and inviting them for dinner. What took you so long to come here?"

"You know, I needed time to dress and contemplate whether I would like to spend the rest of my evening with the general." Maven let out a dramatic sigh, which elicited laughter from Cal.

"Let me tell you a little secret." Cal scooted closer to his brother and whispered in his ear. "House Lerolan has invited Alix for dinner in their summer house, not so far from the Grand Garden. If you want, you could skip all these formalities and go there instead. I am sure Father wouldn't mind, seeing as how you're keeping the close relationship of Norta and Piedmont."

"Alix with the Lerolans, hm?"

"Quite so."

"And who would come with her?"

"Few of her Guards for sure, and Ptolemus, too."

Maven did a double take, immediately glaring at the name. "Ptolemus? What for? Since when did he become interested in the affairs of the kingdom?"

"Have you not heard that Ptolemus now escorts Alix anywhere?" Cal blinked, earnestly surprised.

"I know that, but I didn't expect him to be dining with House Lerolan. That would be the last thing he would want."

"It doesn't matter. Alix and her entourage would be heading out in just a few minutes. Would you like to go or not?" Cal spoke like a determined young man, willing to let his brother leave an important event only to spend time with a less significant dinner. But Maven had done the same to Cal, when he often sneaked out at night to go to the Red villages, speaking with the Reds, acting like a Red. It was dangerous, but neither King Tiberias nor Queen Elara found out. Now, Cal was determined to do the same to Maven.

"All right." Maven sighed, somehow afraid to incite his mother's wrath for sneaking. "I know you could distract Father and General Laris for the rest of the evening, but Mother—don't give her a reason to prod. She doesn't really do it often; just don't give her a reason to. If she asks, tell her I am with Mareena."

Cal nodded. "You're on."

Tonight seemed promising, at least to Alix.

When the last of the sunset rays disappeared to the horizon, she proceeded to prepare for the dinner with House Lerolan. She had dressed herself in one of her finest yet simplest of dress: its golden skirts touched the floor, the laced long sleeves warming her skin, a red-orange necklace and earrings served as ornaments, which had been gifts from Belicos himself during her seventeenth birthday. Her hair was pulled up into a thick bun, held back from her face with a silver tiara brimming with the same red-orange jewels.

When Ptolemus arrived at her door, she was satisfied by the surprised look on his face, obviously stunned on how she looked tonight.

"Lord Lerolan has surely made friends in high places," Ptolemus murmured as he escorted her out of the room and towards the parking area, where the transport awaited. Behind them, four Guards from Piedmont followed, among them Guard Novara, the princess' firma cousin. "Has House Lerolan been ambassadors to Piedmont for such as long time?"

"Not for too long," Alix answered, her eyes on the road. "When Queen Anabel Lerolan grew into power, she raised her family along with her, appointing them as high as counsellors in the war council and ambassadors to our kingdom."

Ptolemus nodded, looking thoughtful. For the event, he wore a black military frock coat with silver buttons, grey trousers, and black boots. He aimed for a simple look, an innocent look, and he looked well in it, his handsome feature definitely a bonus. Beneath his coat was an iron belt, in case things got suspicious and he needed to protect the princess, even though he was sure she needed no protection. With four Guards and shadows everywhere she could use, Ptolemus was no more than an ornament in her entourage.

"Has Norta ever had a Samos queen?" Alix asked, curious.

"Once, a few generations before Queen Anabel, if I remember correctly." Ptolemus brimmed with pride for his family as he narrated. "Our house has always been front-runners in the Queenstrial and one of the largest, with sprawling family trees and wide connections with other houses. Almost every Queenstrial, we have greater chances in winning."

"And that is because of your iron mines?"

"We own all the iron mines in Norta, digging them out, fashioning weapons of war. All guns and tanks come from our lands."

A scary notion, she reminded herself. Often I forget that he is capable of killing me without a second thought.

"But we cannot all be monsters, can we?" Ptolemus chuckled, interrupting her line of thought. He looked down at her, black eyes meeting her golden ones. "Most cousins of mine are softies, refusing to be soldiers, instead staying at home and making allegiances with other houses."

"Surely, no one has mentioned that House Samos is a house full of monsters," Alix quipped back, smirking as her escort's grin widened. "And you do not seem to be in denial."

"I am aware that many of the houses think of us as brutes, hunters, and monsters; but anyone would do whatever it takes for the best of the family."

"Yes. I understand that."

"It takes a toll on us, too," he conceded, leading the princess out of the building and into the fresh night air. Even from afar, he could already see the transport, a contraption of black metal and screws, all an easy subject to his abilities. "Evangeline made sure she was the perfect candidate for the Queenstrial at an early age."

Alix stopped, giving him a bewildered look. "Evangeline?"

"She's a perfectionist, my little sister, and she wants to be the better than our father ever imagined she would be." A shadow of sadness crossed Ptolemus's face, revealing himself to be a brother concerned for his only sister, watched her succumb to her ambitions of getting better. He taught himself how to be perfect, too—to be seen as the aggressive and dauntless commander in Archeon, to be feared by everyone who knew him. This was a moment of weakness for him, and he immediately composed himself and smiled at the princess.

"What girl does not dream of becoming queen anyway?" Alix put her hand on the magnetron's arm, comforting him. "In our world, everyone dreams of becoming a queen."

He raised his brow. "Even you?"

She laughed. "Even me."

"You would make a fine queen, Your Highness." Ptolemus stooped to kiss her gloved hand, his eyes locked on hers.

Suddenly, another voice interrupted them. "We all know being queen can be quite tiresome."

The magnetron raised his fist, ready to attack, had not his eyes fell on the figure approaching them. Prince Maven had been waiting for them beside the transport and walked towards them to greet the princess. He was frowning, his blue eyes looking darker out here in the open field. When it registered to Ptolemus that the stranger was actually the prince and meant no harm, he cleared his throat and dropped his hand. He had almost sent thousands of iron spikes to pierce the prince.

"Maven, what are you doing here?" Alix went to him, dumbfounded. "Why are you dressed so formally?"

"I heard Belicos Lerolan invited you for dinner."

"He did. So?"

"So, I am escorting you there." Maven glanced over her shoulder to look at Ptolemus, who kept his mouth shut though his eyes burned like coals. "It would only be proper if the Prince of Norta escorts the Princess of Piedmont, right?"

She shook her head. "I thought you are supposed to meet Lord General Laris with King Tiberias?"

"Ah, so Cal filled you in about that? I asked permission and was allowed to come with you. Now—" He offered his arm and the princess reluctantly accepted it. "Shall we go before we are too late for dinner?"

"Wait, what about—"

"Lord Ptolemus could stay behind. I can take it from here," Maven insisted. "Perhaps Lady Evangeline would want some company tonight, seeing as my brother is occupied by the generals from the front."

What Alix feared to turn out into a fight, with Ptolemus's pride and temper against Maven's arrogance, ended with the magnetron's sigh of defeat and smallest of smiles to her. He bowed, accepting defeat, accepting that he dressed for nothing and would spend the rest of the night brooding.

"Have a pleasant evening, Your Highness. I hope we could continue our conversation some other time."

For the first time since he became her escort, Alix felt dismal. She nodded and said, "Good night, Ptolemus."

And all Maven could do was frown at the unusual bond between these two.

Author's Notes: Hello, everyone! I am back with a fresh update! It has been quite a while, though I do try to update as soon as I can. I would like to take this time to especially thank the increasing number of readers this story is getting. Thank you all for taking time to read what I am enjoying to write. Truly, words cannot express how great it feels to write stories from your favorite novels, including Red Queen of course!

Moving onwards, Maven finally gets the spotlight. And ooh, Mavey's getting jelly regarding Ptolemus and Alix. Better watch out, Tolly!

*QueenRose44 - Oh, thank you so much! Mavix ftw!

*Melanthra - I am really looking forward writing Ptolemus's character. He is an easily detestable in Red Queen, but I was intrigued. Then King's Cage came and voilà—I totally love the little insight we have of him. All thanks to the Evangeline chapters, that is.

*Sophie - Aww, little Cal going around the palace wondering when he could have a little sister, too. In my opinion, Cal would have made a very good (albeit somewhat very overprotective) older brother. We cannot deny that he is a good brother to Maven, so why not to a little sister? ;)

*Savanna-chan123 - Don't worry! As the story progresses, we will get to meet Alix's brothers. Each one would have a different personality and background (which would be quite a challenge to make them as engaging as possible). Most of her family background would be revealed more as the story goes on, so there would be answers soon! Thank you for reading!

*LovecraftXx - If it's Ptolemus/Alix, would it be Ptolemix, Alemus, or simply Tollix? Okay, those sound weird, but hey! You're the Ptolemus/Alix shipper around here. LOL

*QueenGenius - Thank you very much! I would love to write more!

*Mack - Yes, we all love Maven, don't we? Such an interesting character. I wished Aveyard could have given us a Maven perspective in King's Cage. What I would give for an Elara chapter, too! I really wanted to know what's going on in her mind when she's creating Maven. (T_T) Anyway, I will leave my rant here. Thank you for reading!