Sonya and Elane flank her with matching smirks. Now that they’re not intimidating me, they seem to be sucking up to the future queen herself.
I do my best to ignore them all and find myself looking for Maven. He sits in a corner, separated from the others. At least we can be alone together. Whispers follow me, as more than a dozen noble teenagers watch me walk toward him. A few bow their heads, trying to be courteous, but most look cautious. The girls are especially on edge; after all, I did take one of their princes away.
“Took you long enough.” Maven chuckles once I sit down next to him. He doesn’t seem to be part of the crowd, nor does he want to be. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to stay away from us.”
“Just one person in particular,” I reply, casting a glance back to Evangeline. She holds court near the target wall, where she shows off for her cronies in a dazzling display. Her metal knives sing through the air, digging into the dead center of their targets.
Maven watches me watch her, his eyes thoughtful. “When we go back to the capital, you won’t have to see her so much,” he murmurs. “She and Cal will have their hands full touring the country, fulfilling their duties. And we’ll have ours.”
The prospect of getting far away from Evangeline is exciting, but also reminds me of the steadily ticking clock moving against me. Soon I’ll be forced to leave the Hall, the river valley, and my family far behind.
“Do you know when you—” I stumble, correcting myself. “I mean, when we go back to the capital?”
“After the Parting Ball. You were told about that?”
“Yes, your mother mentioned it—and Lady Blonos is trying to teach me how to dance . . .” I trail off, feeling embarrassed. She tried to teach me a few steps yesterday, but I just ended up falling all over myself. Thieving I can do just fine, but dancing is apparently out of my reach. “Key word, trying.”
“Don’t worry, we won’t have to deal with the worst of it.”
The thought of dancing terrifies me, but I swallow the fear. “Who will?”
“Cal,” he says without hesitation. “Big brother has to tolerate too many silly conversations and dance with a lot of annoying girls. I remember last year . . .” He stops to laugh at the memory. “Sonya Iral spent the entire time following him around, cutting into dances, trying to drag him away for some fun. I had to interfere and suffer through two songs with her to give Cal some respite.”
The thought of the two brothers united against a legion of desperate girls makes me laugh, thinking about the lengths they must’ve gone to save each other. But as my smirk spreads, Maven’s smile fades.
“At least this time, he’ll have Samos hanging off his arm. The girls wouldn’t dare cross her.”
I snort, remembering her sharp, biting grip on my arm. “Poor Cal.”
“And how was your visit yesterday?” he says, referring to my jaunt home. So Cal didn’t fill him in.
“Difficult.” It’s the only way I know how to describe it. Now my family knows what I am, and Kilorn has thrown himself to the wolves. And of course, Shade is dead. “One of my brothers was executed, just before the release came.”
He shifts next to me, and I expect him to be uncomfortable. After all, it was his own people who did it. Instead, he puts a hand over mine. “I’m so sorry, Mare. I’m sure he didn’t deserve it.”
“No, he didn’t,” I whisper, remembering why my brother died. Now I’m on the same path.
Maven stares at me intently, like he’s trying to read the secret in my eyes. For once I’m glad for Blonos’s lessons, or else I would assume Maven could read minds as well as the queen. But no, he’s a burner and a burner alone. Few Silvers inherit abilities from their mothers, and no one has ever had more than one ability. So my secret, my new allegiance to the Scarlet Guard, is mine.
When he extends a hand to help me up, I take it. All around us, the others warm up, mostly stretching or jogging around the room, but a few are more impressive. Elane slips in and out of my vision as she bends the light around herself until she disappears altogether. A windweaver boy, Oliver of House Laris, creates a miniature whirlwind between his hands, stirring up tiny bits of dust. Sonya lazily trades blows with Andros Eagrie, a short but muscular eighteen-year-old. As a silk, Sonya is brutally skilled and fast, and should be able to best him, but Andros matches her blow for blow in a violent dance. The Silvers of House Eagrie are eyes, meaning they can see the immediate future, and Andros is using his abilities to their full extent. Neither one seems to gain the upper hand, playing a game of balance rather than strength.
Just imagine what they can really do. So strong, so powerful. And these are just the kids. And just like that, my hope evaporates, shifting into fear.
“Lines,” a voice says, barely a whisper.
My new instructor enters without a sound, Cal at his side, with a telky from House Provos behind them both. Like a good soldier, Cal walks in step with the instructor, who seems tiny and unassuming next to Cal’s bulk. There are wrinkles in his pale skin and his hair is white as his clothing, a testament to his true age and his house. House Arven, the silent house, I remember, thinking back to my lessons. A major house, full of power and strength and all the things the Silvers put their faith in. I even remember him from before I became Mareena Titanos, from when I was a little girl. He would oversee the broadcasted executions in the capital, lording over the Reds and even the Silvers sentenced to die. And now I know why they chose him to do it.
The Haven girl blinks back into existence, suddenly visible again, while the churning wind dies in Oliver’s hands. Evangeline’s knives drop out of the air and even I feel a calm blanket of nothing fall over me, blotting out my electrical sense.
He is Rane Arven, the instructor, the executioner, the silence. He can reduce a Silver to what they hate most: a Red. He can turn their abilities off. He can make them normal.
While I gawk, Maven pulls me into place behind him, with Cal at the head of our line. Evangeline leads the line next to us and for once she doesn’t seem concerned with me. Her eyes stay on Cal as he settles in, looking quite at home in his place of authority.
Arven doesn’t waste time introducing me. In fact, he barely seems to notice I’ve joined his session.
“Laps,” he says, his voice rough and low.
Good. Something I can actually do.
We set off in our lines, circling the room at an easy pace in blissful quiet. I push myself faster, enjoying the exercise I missed so much, until I’m speeding right past Evangeline. Then it’s just Cal next to me, setting the pace for the rest of them. He quirks a smile at me, watching me run. This is something I can do, something I even enjoy.