Peter was just munching on a cream puff, watching Iria walk away, when she suddenly turned around and returned to him. It was only when she turned to stand beside him that he saw the young man she was running away from.
"Iria," the boy said as he followed her. "Aunt Maine wants to introduce you to the Prince of Shain and she's been—"
"Evan! Perfect timing. There is someone I'd like you to meet." Iria's smile was brilliant, but Peter could tell she was trying to shake the boy off. And Peter could also tell she was going to use him to do that. "This is Peter."
The boy, Evan, looked exasperated. It was obvious that Iria was trying to avoid him. He seemed like he wanted to argue, but he let a small sigh under his breath and turned pleasantly towards Peter. "How do you do?" He was maybe a year or two younger than Peter. He looked quite handsome with his pale blond hair and purple eyes.
"Peter, this is my brother, Evan."
Her brother? As in the king?! Hurriedly, Peter put down the cream puff and wiped his hand on his trousers. "H-how do you?!" He reached out a hand towards Evan. Belatedly, he realized he shouldn't be wiping his hands on their trousers. Also, belatedly, he realized he shouldn't be offering a hand to the king!
Thankfully, Evan seemed distracted. He shook Peter's hand automatically and turned to Iria, who had begun to walk away. "Iria, he's a good match. Won't you just talk to him—"
"You're both almost the same age," the princess said. "Try to be friends. I'll catch you later." With that, she hurried off towards one of the balconies.
Even looked conflicted. He looked anxiously towards the balcony, but ended up turning to Peter with a determined expression. "You're the mage's son."
"Uh…" A hundred different possible etiquette rules attached to how to answer a king ran through his mind.
"Did he really come here as my sister's escort? What are his intentions towards her?"
"I cannot answer that, your highness—"
"'Your majesty.'"
"Your majesty!" Peter swallowed. He really didn't know anything about royal etiquette.
The young king studied him. "You don't look like the mage. Are you really his son?"
"Um, more like a ward, really. He's teaching me magic."
Evan let out a sigh of relief. "At least he's not a single father."
His statement irked Peter enough for his fear of royalty to disappear. "What's wrong with single fathers?"
Evan was taken aback. No doubt nobody had ever challenged his statements before. "Nothing."
"Apparently there is, for you to say what you just did."
The king frowned. But after a moment, he leaned closer. "Look, my sister is a princess. It's bad enough that people are calling her a spinster."
"And it's somehow even worse if she seems to be getting along with a man with a child, is that it?"
Evan pursed his lips, displeased.
But Peter responded by crossing his arms defiantly. He might argue with Marquelle, but he felt strangely protective of the mage. And of Iria's choices.
Evan was the first to relent. "I'm sorry," he said, letting go of his frown. "I just want the best for my sister. It pains me when I hear people speak bad about her behind her back. She has to marry at least a crown prince, preferably a king. You understand."
"No, I don't, actually."
The young king scoffed. "Of course you wouldn't."
"Ah, right. Because I'm just riffraff. A commoner. But you don't understand her, either. You don't even know why she's avoiding you."
Peter felt a pang of guilt when Evan suddenly looked like he was about to cry. The young king looked down, dejected.
"No, I… I didn't mean…"
"You're right," Evan said. "She's my sister, the only sibling I have left. I want to be close to her. And I'm doing everything I can, but nothing's working. She keeps running away from me."
Peter felt like he should comfort the boy, but he doubted it would be right to give the king a hug. So, he patted his shoulder awkwardly. "I'm… I'm sure she knows you care."
"Who does that mage think he is anyway?!" Evan suddenly burst out, and Peter had to step back in surprise. "I don't care if he's some hero from an epic war or other," he mumbled as he turned and started marching towards the balcony Iria had disappeared into.
"Um, your highness–"
"It's 'your majesty!'" He snapped.
"Right, your majesty." Peter walked briskly to catch up to him. "Wait for me." He managed to catch the king just before he could reach the glass balcony doors.
"Unhand me," Evan commanded, looking down at the hand that held his upper arm.
"Sorry!" Peter quickly withdrew his hand. "But I suggest we watch them from here instead of you announcing your presence."
The king looked at him with an incredulous expression. "You are asking me to lurk? A king does not lurk!"
"What, you think the princess will just tell you what's going on with her just because you command her to?"
"I am her king!"
"Did it work before?"
"... I am her brother." This time, his voice was soft. He sounded like a child left behind.
Peter squeezed his shoulder to provide comfort. "I'm here with you. I want to know what's going on between those two, as well. Why don't we watch together? Then we can decide what to do once we know what's really happening."
Even relented. "Alright." He took a spot beside Peter, behind the heavy curtains that partially covered the balcony doors. "But you're not supposed to be touching your king so casually."
"You're not my king."
*****
After the dance, Iria suggested they spend time on the balcony. No doubt it was to avoid unwanted attention from relatives, but Marquelle was happy to comply. The hall felt a little stuffy. He was sure air conditioning magic was available in this world but he supposed it wasn't very popular here. The balcony was beautiful, though. He sat on the marble balustrade and looked over the flower-filled grounds. The view was very peaceful.
"A coin for your thoughts," a voice pulled him from his reverie. When he looked, Iria had just come out into the balcony with a plate of food.
Marquelle couldn't help but smile when he turned to her. "I was just thinking how I haven't been to a pleasant social affair like this in a long while."
Iria chuckled as she took a seat at the garden table. "You find this pleasant?"
"You don't?" Marquelle left the balustrade for the seat opposite her. "I thought bringing me here was supposed to deter any unwanted introductions."
"Oh, it deterred most of the introductions. But you're apparently too famous for me not to escape the interrogations. I know of the mage, Marquelle of the Diamond Plains. But apparently, you're a bit of a hero in my aunts' generation."
"I know the inhabitants of your world know of the other dimensions. I didn't think they'd be interested in the wars of other worlds, though."
"I think there was a writer who made a novel set in the era of the battle with the Red King. She might have exaggerated your feats a little bit."
Marquelle chuckled. He accepted the plate she brought.
"You still haven't told me why you left your post," Iria continued as Marquelle took a forkfull of one of the cakes. "You saved Rivon from the Red King. Then you just disappeared."
"In my defense, I did not just disappear. I properly retired."
"You're too young to retire, though."
Marquelle gave a small laugh. "I'm six hundred forty years old."
Without missing a beat, Iria patted his cheeks. "But you don't look a day older than six hundred thirty five."
He laughed. But his smile faded as he looked out into the horizon. "But I felt old then," he continued. "So very old and so very tired. I suppose time does that to you. Rivon paints the Red King in such a bad light, but Sardon, the King of Rivon then, was just as drunk with power as the Red King was. Well, all of the kings of the continent were. The Red King was just the most destructive."
Iria nodded as she slipped in thought, too. She leaned against the table, her chin on her hand as she pierced the gardens with a stare. Marquelle could imagine what she was thinking. As a gatekeeper, she was aware of power and what lengths people went to get it.
"I had lived long enough to know how Sardon was going to run his kingdom to the ground," he continued. "But he wouldn't listen. I was giving him advice but he only wanted me as a weapon."
Iria nodded. "Just as his father did."
"And grandfather. And great grandfather. For years all I did was fix everyone's mess, and I just got to a point where I just didn't want to do it anymore. So I submitted my resignation, defeated the Red King as my final task, and retired."
She turned to him, smirking. "You could have taken over Rivon if you had wanted."
He returned the smirk. "I could have. But why would I want that headache?"
She laughed as she patted his shoulder. "You are wise."
He studied her. Her little brother wasn't a bad kid. But Iria would have made an exceptional queen had she been given a chance. "Would you have taken over if you were in my shoes?"
"I'm very ambitious, dear mage," she joked. "Rivon would have been too small."
So would this kingdom, Marquelle thought, amused. "Nothing smaller than the world, eh?" That was right. She was not some distressed damsel who just accepted the fact that she couldn't inherit as a woman in this world. And as a gatekeeper, she would have been exposed to other worlds where the gender dynamics were a lot different.
"That's right. I'll never give up being a gatekeeper. This is what I want to be doing. Even if that means I need to give up on getting married and having my own children." She looked a bit sad saying that last line.
He cleared his throat. "Speaking of gatekeeping, have you decided what you want to do with the boy?"
"Peter? Why do you ask?"
"I've told you that he has potential, and if the Libra Council is just going to send him back to his world, I don't think I'm for it."
"I'm obligated to bring him before the council, but that doesn't mean I'll just agree to whatever the council decides. But speaking of Peter, do you know he asked me to delay catching the creature in your castle?"
He looked at Iria, amused. "Did he now?"
Iria had a warm smile on her face when she continued. "He wanted to learn from you a bit more. He may not say it out loud, but that boy looks up to you. And as long as the creature is on the loose, we can continue our little setup for a while longer."
Marquelle returned her smile with one of his own. "I have to confess, I want to delay it as well."
The look she returned was teasing. "Don't tell me you're getting attached to the boy?"
He held her hand gently. "It's not the boy I'm getting attached to."
He was glad to see her blush. She shyly looked away, but thankfully, she didn't pull back her hand.
"It's been so long since I had company like this," Marquelle continued. "I'm rather loathe to end it."
Iria looked back at him. And she was about to say something but they were interrupted by a loud beeping sound coming from Marquelle's body.