𝙎𝙃𝘼𝘿𝙊𝙒 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀

𝗼𝗻𝗲

Maven

I keep my head down as he speaks, unable to look into his eyes. There will only be disappointment there. It's no secret. I've known for a while that I'll always be second best. That's what happens when you're not the firstborn prince and heir of the Kingdom of Norta. If I ever forget, my mother's whispers are quick to remind me of it.

"Has your training bore any fruit at all?" Father asks with a voice worthy of his title as a Burner King, the sixth generation of Tiberias Calore's.

He senses your weakness. Your mask is slipping, Maven.

Mother's whispers almost drown everything else. Almost.

"I asked you something, Maven. What have you done with Arven all this time?"

"I've... I've been learning to control my flame," I answer quietly. I'm nothing like the burner he or my brother is.

"And what good is it if you can't channel it to a target?"

I don't answer. Shame paints my cheeks. It's even worse that Mother is here listening. At least he had the decency to send Cal to his room before speaking to me. We had been having dinner when my older brother brought up training lessons into the conversation. It is something he and Father have always had in common. I don't. It was evident when he asked my say in the matter and I had to confess my inability to throw fireballs at birds.

Shame is good, Maven. Let it be a reminder of your mistakes.

I want to scream, instead I grit my teeth.

"If you're going to be silent you might as well go to your room." He gives me a merciful leave and I gladly take it, though there is little honour in it.

Sentinels close the huge oak doors behind me as I walk out of the dining room. That's when I realise you can hear everything that goes on inside from here. The Sentinels heard everything.

Instead of going to my room as I've been ordered, I stand my ground outside the doors. If they will hear the King talk about me, I might as well be here too. If only to make them self-conscious.

"He's too soft," I hear Father say. "That's no good in battle."

"He's just a boy, Tiberias," Mother answers. "Give him time."

"He turns twelve next week. He's hardly a boy anymore. Cal could shoot targets since before he was 10."

Of course his golden son would be brought up. He is all the King has eyes for.

"Be patient. Maven will learn too. I'll make sure of it."

My heart clenches at the Queen's words. I am acutely aware of what they mean for me.

"I will send him to the front with Cal. After his birthday. A visit to the war front ought to toughen him up."

"As you wish."

I will see you in your rooms later.

Her voice reaches me outside. I all but flee down the hall, suddenly losing my nerve to eavesdrop. Rather than going to my room, I make my way to Cal's. Not that I am particularly looking forward to speaking to him at the moment. I'm just stalling for what I know will come next, and with him, I feel in control, at ease. He is so easy to read. It gives me a sense of safety that nothing else does.

For once, I'm grateful for the grandness of Whitefire Palace that grants me quiet minutes to myself before I reach his room. I knock at his door thrice. Our code for when we visit each other.

"Mavey," he smiles, opening the door.

"Mind if I join you a moment?"

"Not at all. Come in."

I stay as long as I can. We talk about everyday nonsense. He doesn't ask about my conversation with our Father and I am silently grateful. It allows my mind to wander and forget for a moment about my Mother, probably already waiting for me.

No matter how much we talk though, I still have to leave and go to my room. She's sitting at the edge of my bed when I arrive.