Chapter 7 #2
“When I looked into it,” he said, “the official Orator’s Office statement was that it was a tragic accident and no fowl play was suspected. Yet, you use the word ‘murdered’.”
“The Office of Magical Orations lies, Mal. They all lie. The school lies, the Orator’s Office lies, the papers lie. This school probably lies. Hell, according to you, my own family lies.”
The magic constricting her disappeared with a popping sound as Mal released her.
She let out a quick breath.
“And you think Keitl is lying about being the Dread Descendant?”
Maeve looked up at him.
He extended a hand to help her up, which he had never done before. She took his cool hand, and he pulled her to her feet. There were burn marks from the ropes where her sleeves were rolled back. She stood silently, observing the marks. Her Sinclair Family Ring glistened in the candlelight.
Maeve stammered a response, but it caught in her throat.
Mal reached out and ran his icy slender finger tips over the spots that would likely yield bruises along her arms. Maeve shuddered at his unexpected touch. She looked up at him and he met her eyes only briefly before he turned on his heel.
“I think we’re done for the night,” said Mal.
They gathered their things and made their ascent out of the dueling hall. Maeve rolled her sleeves down, concealing her marks.
“You skipped my second question,” said Mal, as he walked her to the fifth floor.
“That is because I do not know the answer,” said Maeve.
“How old was he?”
“Freshly twenty-one, and freshly engaged on his birthday, December twenty-first. A year early for a Sacred Engagement.”
“That must have been terribly sad,” said Mal, his voice businesslike.
Maeve was silent for a moment as they walked.
“Does your father have brothers?” Asked Mal.
Maeve shook her head and let out a hollow laugh. “Not alive. They only had girls anyway. It’s a rather large deal, actually, to lose a Pureblood line. The Sinclair name is effectively gone, and will die with me.” Maeve spoke in a way that indicated this was not her first time realizing this fact.
“Forgive me,” started Mal, but Maeve cut him off.
“There’s no need,” said Maeve. “It actually feels good to talk about it. Not what I would have expected, but good none the less.”
They made it to the second floor and turned the corner.
Walking towards them was Roswyn, Phineas, Abraxas and Kash. They were laughing heartily. Maeve knew well enough that these boys needn’t worry about being out past curfew. Not only were they in Mal’s inner circle, but the Head Boy was a Serpentine himself, who looked up to Malachite just like them.
“Out for a stroll?” Asked Maeve playfully, glancing at her ivory watch. “At this hour?”
They stopped a few feet short of Mal and Maeve, and exchanged looks with Mal.
“Umm,” said Kash, with a chuckle. “Mal?”
Mal smirked. “I believe the Volaticus Paragon asked you gentlemen a question.”
Roswyn bust out laughing, stepping towards Maeve. Her smile faltered and faded at his demeanor.
“I’ve known this one long enough to know she’s all bark and no bite.”
He shoved past her, slamming his shoulder into her and knocking her to the ground.
“What the hell?” Exclaimed Abraxas, stepping towards Maeve. “She was obviously just messing around.”
Abraxas helped her to her feet and picked up her bag. Maeve’s mouth hung open in disbelief.
Roswyn scoffed and turned to walk away.
“Roswyn,” said Mal, whose voice had suddenly become low.
Maeve looked at Mal, rubbing her shoulder. His smile had vanished and had been replaced by an unnervingly void expression.
Roswyn turned towards him slowly. Mal stared him down intensely.
Roswyn glanced at Maeve, his jaw clenched tight. She was expecting an apology, but Roswyn swallowed hard and averted his eyes back to Mal with a defiant look on his face.
Mal was still staring him down, unblinking.
“Abraxas,” said Mal smoothly without breaking his stare, “continue accompanying Sinclair to her dorm.” He paused. “Roswyn, let’s take a walk.”
“I should demerit you for that-” Maeve started at Roswyn but Abraxas took her arm hastily and dragged her in the opposite direction.
Mal didn’t give Maeve another glance. Roswyn held his silent focus.
Phineas and Kash stood against the wall, picking at their on fingers, as far out of eyesight as possible, likely hoping to skirt by without issue.
“What was that all about?” Maeve asked once she and Abraxas were out of earshot.
“The ass. I assume he feels threatened,” said Abraxas. “Mal’s been bragging about your strengths.”
Maeve scowled. “Oh whatever. I was only joking. I ought to write him a detention myself just for that ridiculous display.”
“I think Mal will handle his punishment for you but I don’t think it will be in the form of detention,” said Abraxas solemnly.
“What?”
Abraxas sighed. “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes.”
Maeve was unsure how to reply to that comment. The whole scenario had been bizarre. And she had never seen Mal look so furious.
They were already to the East Wing, in front of the entrance to The Volaticus Common Room. Abraxas bid her goodnight, but Maeve grabbed his arm quickly.
“Wait,” said Maeve. “Mal’s been bragging about me?”
Abraxas smirked. “Don’t let it get to your head, cousin.”
He waltzed off down the corridor, leaving Maeve alone.
“Excellent work, Maeve,” said Professor Elgin in Protective Magic one afternoon. “That’s impressively quick improvement.”
Maeve’s physical Magical shields were stronger than ever. They had to be. Mal was too strong for anything less than her best.
Professor Elgin smiled and moved across the classroom, correcting and observing. Maeve looked over at Mal. His head cocked to one side with a look of approval.
She slid onto a bench next to Abraxas as they watched the rest of the class performing their shields.
Protective Magic was one of Maeve’s top subjects after Charms. Headmaster Elgin was a master at the art.
She covered everything from physical magic shields and potions protectants to mental shields and shielding with powerful magical objects.
After much convincing, and a bit of blackmail, Abraxas managed to talk Maeve into attending a very forbidden party in the Serpentine Court Common Room and Dorms. She relented, much to his excitement.
She turned down every drink she was offered. Abraxas didn’t even bother asking her to participate in any other substances.
The Serpentine common room was a large hexagon hall. Its arched windows sat below the mountain lakes, illuminating the room with a pale green glow.
She watched him smoke a rolled up piece of parchment with a fluffy green substance inside. She didn’t ask what it was. She didn’t care.
“Who are you looking for?” Asked Abraxas after the twentieth time she glanced around the room.
“No one.”
“Liar,” said Abraxas with a roll of his eyes.
Maeve scanned the room once more. Roswyn was across the common room, lips locked with a new student. A Pureblood girl three years younger than Maeve.
“That’s Emerie Videntis.”
She sighed. “I know who she is.” A Pureblood. Roswyn’s only type. “Well, this has been a joy, Brax but I’m tired.”
Maeve pushed her way through the crowd and towards the the narrow dark passageway that led back to the main castle.
“Wait wait,” he called after her. “It’s only been an hour. Give it time.”
Maeve turned on him and paused. She inclined her head and studied him closely. “Give what time?”
“Oh Merlin, Maeve,” he whined. “Do you think I don’t see what’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” Came a voice from the darkness.
Their heads whipped towards the sound.
Mal emerged from the crowd and into the shadowed lighting coming from the narrow doorway of the common room. Whispers circled around them at his presence. His hands slid into his pockets as he casually ignored them all.
Maeve opened her mouth to speak to him. But Harriet Simms slipped from behind him and stood at his side.
The second year Serpentine student stood too close to be there without his invitation.
Maeve’s cheeks burned hot against her will.
She steadied her breathing and leaned against the wall, tucking her clammy hands behind her back.
“I was just leaving,” said Maeve cooly. “No point in staying.”
“I am as well,” said Mal.
“What?” Asked Harriet with a short laugh.
“You only just arrived,” Maeve argued as Harriet also said “we’ve only just arrived.”
Harriet’s eyes finally landed on Maeve. Her light brown hair was pulled gently back with an ivory bow. “How exactly would you know?” She asked icily.
Maeve’s eyes narrowed. Harriet’s gaze faltered.
Abraxas bit his bottom lip.
Students stumbled between them, giggling into their drinks.
Maeve looked away from Harriet. “Because I didn’t see you for the past hour,” she said to Mal.
“So you were looking for me,” he said matter of factly.
Harriet and Abraxas’ eyes darted between the pair of them.
“Not looking. But I think I would have noticed you at a party like this. Not exactly your common ground.”
“Nor yours,” he said smoothly. “Anymore that is.”
Abraxas grin faltered.
Harriet smiled softly. “You use to be fun, Maeve. I remember Alphard Mavros carrying you upstairs last year because you were too-”
Mal’s eyes darted down at her like daggers. She stopped short, her face whitening and her shoulders pulled up slightly.
Maeve stared at her for a moment.
“Too. What?” She asked quietly.
Harriet looked up at Mal, ignoring Maeve. “I see Roswyn and Emerie. Let’s join them.”
Maeve pushed her back off the wall with a small scoff.
“Don’t go Maeve,” whined Abraxas.
She turned back towards them. “Come with me,” she said to Abraxas.
It was a challenge. But Abraxas’ face fell guilty. His mouth hung open.
“Come on, Malachite,” said Harriet, slinking her arm through his. “I want a drink.”
Mal looked right at her, his expression impenetrable, his voice even and smooth, no doubt in Abraxas’ decision as he said, “Change of plans. We’re staying. Come, Abraxas.”