Chapter 51
“Maeve!” Exclaimed Juliet as she stepped through the Portal to Heims. “That color is stunning on you.”
The Stalakta Fortress looked the same as her first visit. Ice encased every pillar and stone. She met eyes with the group of Bellator holding the Portal open for guests, feeling out of place in the elegant, long fabric.
Maeve thanked Juliet and found it impossible to mean it. Her ring finger pulsed with pain.
“Evening, cousin,” said Abraxas cheerfully as he kissed her cheek. “Haven’t seen you in a gown in ages.”
Mumford appeared at their side, with a girl Maeve didn’t recognize.
Abraxas made a joke about Mumford’s suit.
“It’s what all the fashionable men in Aterna wear,” said the girl on Mumford’s arm defensively. She was American, like he was.
“Bet it is,” sniggered Abraxas.
Maeve had never seen Reeve or any of his Senshi Warriors in such attire, but she’d never been to the cities in Aterna.
The girl turned to Maeve. She looked her over with an excited expression.
“Mm” said Abraxas, “apologies. Maeve this is Penelope Green. Penelope, Maeve Sinclair.”
Penelope’s head dipped.
Maeve was silent for a moment. “You need only bow to Mal.”
Penelope smiled. “Mumford calls him that too,” she said excitedly. “I am honored to meet you. At my school back home, or my old home I suppose, our dueling club was named after you.”
Maeve smiled, and her brows pulled together. “What?”
Penelope nodded. “We just formed it last year. We call it Pure Sins. After you and The Dread Prince.”
Maeve stared at her. “There is a Magical School in America? On Earth?”
Penelope nodded. “Founded three years ago by my parents.”
Maeve looked to Abraxas. “Did you know about that?”
He nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Green wrote me shortly after Mal’s coronation. They are moving the school here to The Dread Lands.”
Maeve looked back at Penelope. “I had no idea.”
Penelope opened her mouth as the foyer of Stalakta darkened. She looked over her shoulder as the castle’s icy entryway filled with a cosmic storm.
Mal stepped from the darkness, his eyes instantly on Maeve, and didn’t stop until he reached her side, ignoring all those who bowed as he crossed the Entrance Hall.
Penelope’s head dropped lower than everyone else’s at his arrival. Maeve didn’t bow out of tradition or common occurrence. She never did.
Mal wore a stylish black set with The Dread Locket around his neck and The Dread Crown atop his raven hair.
He extended his arm to Maeve. She took it without looking at him.
He grabbed Maeve’s hand and held it up, inspecting her sliced ring finger. She looked up at him, keeping her emotions in check as she took in the flecks of green swirling in his eyes.
“How’d that happen?” Asked Mal with the smooth arrogance in his voice.
Maeve didn’t respond.
He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “The next time that ring slips off your finger, it will be more than blood I take from you.”
Maeve’s insides dulled to nothing. She did not feel the ice of Stalakta penetrate her exposed skin. She did not feel the throbbing in her wounded finger.
“Smile,” said Mal quietly as he kissed her cheek. “I didn’t put you in emerald so you could frown all evening.”
Mordred and his King’s Guard trailed Mal from a distance all evening, more than they did Kier. They were the only Magical creatures in attendance. The rest of Kier’s guests were humans from Hiems with no Magic or connection to rumored Magical creatures that occupied Hiems.
“You must understand,” Kier had said, “most of them are wild beasts with no desire for such formal affairs. Not all have been touched by Fauna as Mordred has.”
Maeve lost count of the number of strangers who placed their hands together and dipped their heads respectfully at Mal, and then proceeded to tell her how honored they were to be in the Dread Viper’s presence.
Even a forced smile couldn’t be found by the end of it. Mal didn’t scold her. Perhaps the scowl across her face made his Second in command look fierce.
As one of Kier’s councilmen introduced himself and his children, he said with a slight challenge in his voice, “Would be a honor to see all that Magic Kier claims you have.”
Mal held his gaze with a blank stare for a moment and then said. “That can be arranged,” as he let some of his lethal Dread Magic slip from him.
The councilman paled and dipped his head, attempting to scurry away.
“Now seems like a good time,” said Mal. “What do you think?”
The councilman turned, his cheeks now red, and nodded anxiously. “Of course.”
Mal extended his hand to Maeve. When she did not take it right away, his neck craned smoothly towards her.
“You want me to duel in a gown?” She asked quietly up at him.
He smiled. “It’ll be like old times.”
The councilman sighed with relief, as though he thought Mal was challenging him to duel despite having no Magical capabilities.
Maeve shook her head, sadness dripping from her voice. “We are far from old times, Mal,” she muttered.
His smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered as she placed her hand in his and he led her to the center of the room.
Kier clapped his hands, and silence fell across the hall.
“Oh, wonderful!” He exclaimed. “Now you’ll all get to see what I’ve witnessed within the Dread Prince.”
Mal dropped her hand and continued across the hall. He turned back towards her and slid his fingers together, cracking each knuckle with his eyes locked on hers.
Maeve loosened her shoulders and planted her feet. A duel with Mal had once been a dance. A flirtation. Now, as too much of Mal slipped farther and farther from her, it was a burden to remember how effortless it had once been.
How he simply was and how she delighted in being near him. Simply near him.
Mal raised a single hand, and the room fell still. He gave Maeve a subtle nod.
She knew he wanted to show off and wipe that disbelieving grin off Kier’s councilman’s face. He wanted to show them all a taste of who he was.
And he did.
He blocked her advances before she fired. He countered her steps before she moved. He was ahead of her every step of the way, aweing the crowd like always.
Her shields only withheld him because he allowed it. He did not fire on her fully, not once. But he made sure the crowd felt his power with each step cracking across the floor.
Before she could fire back against his fluid onslaught of spells, a hefty curse spiraled towards her chest. She slammed up a shield just as the spell reached her. It burst against her wall of Magic and sparkled across the room.
The party applauded excitedly as frustration swelled in Maeve. Mal did not smile at her or wait for her to fire again. Another hefty curse headed her way. She ducked to the floor and Obscured, rolling her knees against the ice floors of Hiems and appearing behind Mal.
Electric ice surged down her arm. He smiled as she pointed it towards him as the crowd screamed.
With an explosion of cosmic mist he Obscured before her and grabbed her wrist. Mal held her lightning swarming hand high, drawing her to the tips of her toes.
He stared down at her with a wild expression, pressing sharp Magic through his fingers that dulled her electric Magic.
“What happens now that you can’t use these two deadly little sinners to release all that fury?”
He pulled her higher, pressing his chest against her. Maeve whined against him and placed her free hand on him, instinctively pushing him away.
A bright green light burst from her hand as her palm pressed against him, knocking Mal backwards. Panic raced through her mind as Magic settled smoothly across the floor.
She looked down at her left hand in shock. The Dread Ring glistened atop her finger.
Whispers fluttered through the crowd at the equal look of surprise plastered across Mal’s face. He shook it quickly and head cocked to the side. The room relaxed at his smile.
“Look at my Dread Viper, ladies and gentleman,” he said, crossing towards Maeve. He applauded, giving them all approval to praise her triumph as well. “Learning new tricks, I see,” he said quietly.
She opened her mouth to argue but his voice slid across her mind.
Smile .
Mal took her hand and turned to the crowd. Maeve forced a smile as he led her from the hall, thanking guests for their praise as they passed.
They rounded four corners before they were alone.
“I didn’t do that,” she hissed before he could stop her.
Mal pushed her back against the icy wall with one hand. She looked down at the firm contact between them. His sleeve pulled back slightly, exposing his wrist.
Maeve stopped resisting him and relaxed into the wall. “When did you stop wearing the watch I gave you?” She asked quietly.
Mal’s fingers slipped smoothly around her left hand. Cool steel slid down her finger. Her breath caught, anticipating the pain to come as he slid the Dread Ring off.
When his hand withdrew and he slid the ring on his own finger, she looked down at her wound-less hand. No fresh cuts of blood or scrapes of Magic. She looked up at him curiously.
“It’s not a punishment if I do it,” he said plainly.
She rested her head against the wall despite the fact that he’d dropped his hold on her. “I didn’t do that, Mal.”
He observed the ring for another moment and then his eyes met hers. She hated the bits of green floating through his eyes.
“I know,” he said. “You’d never hurt your sworn Prince.”
He left her in the icy glass corridor and returned to his party. She remained leaning against the wall and did not watch him go. At last, she pushed off the wall and ventured deeper into the ice castle.
She played with her empty ring finger, now feeling lonesome without it, as she absentmindedly explored down winding corridors until she came to a set of glass doors. They were a pale blue color, like ice. The frigid evening air stuck her face as they clicked open.
Ice covered everything as far as she could see.
“Maeve,” said a voice.
She turned, and there stood Alphard Mavros. Wrapped in his arms, beneath most of his fur coat, was Victoria. Her bright red hair stood stark against the frozen land around the castle.
“Victoria,” she said with a forced smile. “Alphard. It’s been a while.”
He nodded. “Funny how time moves differently between realms.”
She laughed lightly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
His eyes moved down to her left fingers, where fresh cuts were evident. She placed them behind her back smoothly.
Alphard’s eyes met hers. His lips pulled tight. Maeve stepped towards them.
“How do you stand this cold, Victoria?” Asked Maeve with an even more forced smile.
Victoria smiled brightly up at Alphard.
He looked down at her softly. “I keep her warm.”
Maeve’s stomach relaxed at her successful distraction. “I hope to see the pair of you in the Dread Lands soon.”
“Very soon,” said Alphard.
Maeve smiled. “I’m sure your parents have pulled out every bell and whistle imaginable.”
Victoria beamed and leaned closer to Alphard. “I am told the plans for the temple in The Dread Lands are nearly complete.”
“Yes,” said Maeve. “Mal has restored it fully. I’m certain the renovations will suit such an anticipated event.”
“When is the announcement, Abraxas?” Asked Juliet with a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”
Abraxas’ hand landed on her swollen belly.
“I know, love,” he said. “Shouldn’t be much longer. If you’d like to go now, I can escort you home myself.”
“But you’ll return here and I’ll be all alone,” she argued.
Abraxas smirked. “You’re married to the Hand of the Prince.”
She pressed towards him with a smile. “And being the Hand’s wife, I happen to know a number of secrets about said Hand that might make him rethink sending me home alone.”
Abraxas’ smirk only widened. “Go on and tell them then. You were there. Then they’ll all know the Hand’s wife is just–”
Juliet’s hand clamped over Abraxas’ mouth as they laughed.
“Please,” drawled Maeve, “be more sickening.”
Mal’s victorious moment arrived at last. Kier bent down on one knee, and swore his realm, his court, and his life to Mal.
Mal was a picture of grace as he took his first crown.
Kier took Mal’s hand in his own, Mal’s snowy white band of Magic on his greedy fingers, and kissed the Dread Ring on Mal’s hand.