Beauty in Power

✽Chapter 3: Ren✽

He leans down and takes my hand in his, he plants a kiss once more. I can feel my face flush.

And that's my cue. I think as I start to make my way across the ballroom, putting distance between me and the blue-eyed boy. I barely hear him as he says: "We should do this again sometime-" I can hear the surprise in his fading voice. I don't turn around. I can't.

Maven Embers. I think, stunned at the fact that I just danced with Maven freaking Embers. He's the challenger to beat in the games, the competition. And I just danced with him. I think as I practically ran down the steps from the palace. I lift my head to the night sky filled with stars. The same stars that are shining down on Kestra. For a brief moment I let myself long for Kestra, the musty barracks and sweaty fighting ring.

My thoughts plague my sleep. Thoughts of Kestra, thoughts of Brunswick, and finally the most confusing thoughts of all, thoughts of the blue-eyed boy. His gaze burned into my memory.

Stop. Stop this. This is dangerous. I scold myself. I can't let this go on any further. From here on out he is my enemy, my competition. Everything I must destroy if I am to succeed in my royal mission.

Maven Embers. I will hate you.

The sunlight spills into my room, dust fills the air. Willing myself to wake up, I wipe the sleep from my eyes. I lift myself off the lumpy bed. Today's the day I think to myself, putting on brown leather pants and a red tunic with Iradells crest. I lace up my boots and put my hair into a loose braid. Tucking the braid under my hood as I open the door. As I walk through the town I feel the stares, even with my hair hidden people still know I'm not from here. I approach the registration booth, the woman working eyes me up and down.

"The guardian games I presume." The Iradellen woman looks a cross between bored and disgusted.

"Yes." I say, void of all emotion. I know how these people can be, especially when around outsiders.

"Too bad. Them's the rules. You're no challenger girl. We don't serve your kind." My kind. I think as I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her.

"I'm Iradellen." Anger's rising in my chest.

"Yeah, sures you are hun, and I'm the king." She says it in such a monotone, sarcastic way it makes my blood boil. I feel the urge to grab the dagger on my thigh, but before I can even open my mouth to say something I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Excuse me miss, is this broker causing you trouble?" I look over to the familiar blue eyes staring back at me. Maven. Blazes, of course it's him.

"I'm doing just fine-" Maven interrupts me, speaking with such confidence: "Well, well, Marge, how 'bout we snag a pin for this lovely lady here? I reckon four shekels should do the trick, don't you think?" The lady -Marge- takes the four shekels and hands Maven the pin.

Maven turns and hands me the pin, I accept.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." I avoid eye contact.

"You see Ren, helping you was purely accidental. I must have tripped and fallen into hero mode. Guess I just can't resist helping a damsel in distress can I?"

Blazes. I hate sarcastic boys.

"I'll have you know I am very capable. And I certainly don't need help from someone like you." I linger on the last word.

"Oh, I'm sure you're very capable." He smirks, his devilish grin, so infuriating it makes me want to scream. But instead of dignifying him with a response I promptly turn on my heels and start walking to the town square where the opening ceremony will be held. Maven doesn't follow me.

The opening ceremony is just a glorified speech the king makes about the five values of Iradell and the deep rich history of their past. Lies, there's nothing rich or deep about stealing magic.

I think to myself as the king lists off all the names of all the challengers in the games before finally getting to the last name.

"Ren Hart." I must be imagining it when I think a flicker of worry crosses the royal Iradellen's face. Why would the king know who I am? Does he remember my parents? I ponder as the king concludes the ceremony. Soldiers gather all the contestants. I'm ushered into the palace, down a long corridor and into the throne room where the king, and the queen are waiting for us. To the left is a group of what I assume to be the Imperiums, the people in charge of designing and running the Guardian Games. They're all wearing red except for one who's dressed in gold. I study the room around me, the floors are like the ones in the ballroom: white marble with gold swirls throughout. The walls, white stone, with the Iradellen crest on five banners on either side. Below each banner is one of the five values. Strength, Wisdom, Strategy, Bravery, and Honor.

"Welcome challengers." The king says with a certain sternness to his voice.

"The Guardian Games have been around for eight decades, it is a crucial part of our history." He continues. "The games will test you in ways you have never been tested before. Strength, Wisdom, Strategy, Bravery, and Honor. All things you will have to prove in the coming weeks."

The royal Iradellen pauses, taking a moment to look at the challengers before him before continuing once again. "I trust you will not only make your kingdom proud but yourselves as well. So let the 80th annual Iradell Guardian games begin!" The king booms, seeming thankful to finally be free of speeches, at least for the time being. Then it's the Imperiums turn to give a speech. The one in gold steps forward, addressing all the challengers.

"Welcome, my name is Cornelius Silens, head of the Imperiums. As you all must be aware, this year's games are quite a bit bigger than in the past. With our great kingdom growing both in number and power, we must take greater precautions. Instead of only ten of you making it to the end it will be twenty. Meaning only ten of you will fail."

Saying fail makes it sound peaceful, almost desirable. But we all know you don't just fail the games. You die, gone forever, with nothing more to show for your life than your failed attempt at joining the royal guard.

"The first phase begins in a fortnight. Until then you will all be paired up, so get to know your partner, you never know when you'll need their help. Or to know their weakness." He adds that last part with a devilish grin growing across his face. One of the other Imperiums steps forward and begins reading off the list of pairs. I'm barely paying attention when I hear my name called. I'm shocked at first, but even more shocked at who's name is said after mine.

Maven Embers.

You've got to be kidding me. I think, as I scan the group of challengers, looking for the blue-eyed boy. When my eyes find his, it's like I'm transported back to the ball, with all these confusing feelings welling up inside me. Stop. We talked about this. You have to hate him. I remind myself, avoiding his gaze. I turn away from him, wanting to shout at him to stop staring at me. But I don't, not because it would be inexplicably embarrassing but because part of me likes the staring.

Get a grip, Ren. You're here to murder his king. I almost laugh at the thought. I let myself get distracted, but not anymore. My focus will be this. And only this: My mission.