Chapter 48
Hundreds of guests arrived at Sinclair Estates for the Autum Gala. Clarissa spent weeks planning this party. Ambrose ensured the Highest Orator’s Office Officials were there and The High Lord himself was on the guest list.
Mal had extended invitation to King Kier from The Ice Planet Hiems, and received a gracious acceptance. They had not set foot on Earth in quite some time.
Kier was in attendance with his wife and two young children.
Mal also extended the invitation to The Elven Queen, though they knew it was unlikely she would leave her realm for a party. Her visit to the meeting Ambrose called was the first time she had left her realm in three hundred years.
“Maeve,” Abraxas came bursting into her bedroom, his voice casual. “Could you- oh dear what’s happened?”
Abraxas stopped abruptly and looked about the room after seeing the distressed look on Maeve’s face.
She was standing in one of the large windows, looking grim. With one finger, she motioned for Abraxas and pointed down at the gardens.
There was Ophelia and Mal, walking back towards the house.
“That won’t do,” said Maeve.
Abraxas clicked his tongue. “Poor girl,” he said darkly. “Fix my bowtie, will you?”
Maeve sighed and assisted him. “Why is she even back here? They never come to these parties.”
“Thank you,” chimed Abraxas as he admired himself in the mirror before following Maeve out. “Mal invited her.”
Maeve stopped. She took a long inhale. Then an even longer exhale. “I’m going to wring her neck-with my bare hands- not even my Magic!” Maeve hissed to Abraxas, who laughed. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh it most certainly is, cousin.”
Maeve’s face dropped.
They made their way downstairs together, watching as guests were now arriving in droves through the ivory doors.
Ambrose placed a charm in the foyer, and tonight the theme seemed to be butterflies.
Glowing orbs shaped like the tiny winged creatures fluttered through the halls.
They looked like floating ice sculptures.
She and Abraxas made their way onto the balcony, and Maeve grabbed a glass of sparkling water off a floating tray. Abraxas grabbed something stronger. The sun was setting over the horizon. The late fall blooms in the garden complemented the color of the sky beautifully.
Abraxas laughed to himself, then said, “You could duel her right here right now- that’d sent her home crying.”
“That would be a start,” said Maeve sourly.
But Abraxas hadn’t heard her at all.
“Bloody hell.,” he said. “Look at that.”
“What?” Maeve followed his gaze over to the garden stairs where her father was walking down with an incredibly well-dressed blonde young man. His face was long, his ears were tipped to a small point. She recognized him. He sat behind Lithandrian at their meeting.
“Who is that?” Asked Maeve in amazement.
He was Elven. Dressed in the finest cream satin dress robes.
Abraxas nearly choked on his drink.
“Amaranthine Maeve Sinclair. I have failed you.”
Maeve shot him an incredulous look at the use of her full name. “It’s your job to know all these pricks and all their secrets, not mine.”
“That’s Olympium Xander. Prince of the Elven Lands. And hand to Queen Lithandrian.”
“They came,” she whispered, and her heart swelled. “Her little brother?”
Abraxas nodded. “He’s pretty.”
Truly, he was. Light beamed off his smooth skin, just like it did Zimsy’s. The Elven people had a feminine and light air about them.
Mal and Ophelia had now made their way up to the balcony.
“Good evening, Maeve,” said Mal, the evening sunset liquifying his molten dark eyes. His eyes trailed up and down her body.
Maeve’s stomach flipped. She had still not grown used to the sight of him in a suit.
“Mal was jus’ giving me some last-minute pointerz in case I get picked tonight to duel. I honestly sink I stand a chance now!”
Ophelia giggled in a shrill way that caused Abraxas to recoil.
Mal took a glass off a floating tray and leaned in close to Maeve’s ear.
“Helpless,” whispered Mal.
His hand glided across her back. She relaxed.
“Did you see?” Maeve whispered, jerking her head towards Xander.
“I did,” he murmured into his glass. “Would you like to join me?”
“Later,” she said. “Let him see you and you alone.”
Mal looked down at her and tucked a loose strand of hair back into one of her braids and whispered, “yes, Little Viper.”
Xander seemed delighted to meet Mal. Maeve and Abraxas took to the bar inside for most of the evening and let Mal work his magic on Kier and Xander.
Maeve’s chest tightened.
“Excuse me,” said Maeve suddenly to Abraxas and Juliet, a stunning blonde whom Maeve attended primary girl’s school with. Her parents were loaded with money and with Pureblood back as far as the first Magicals. Abraxas happily took Maeve’s seat next to Juliet and moved in closer to her.
Juliet’s cheeks flushed.
Maeve barely made it out the balcony doors and around the corner before she vomited in to the bushes. She clutched her stomach as sweat pooled on her brow. Her chest was icily tight. Once again.
Zimsy appeared with a SWISH. She handed Maeve a small bottle and opened her tiny mouth.
“Zip it,” said Maeve.
She downed the pain potion and Zimsy shook her head. She snatched the bottle back from Maeve and disappeared.
“One too many?”
Maeve turned over her shoulder and suppressed the breath that rose in her chest. Abraxas was correct.
He may have been the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
His dark hair hung casually at his shoulders.
His sharp and earthy scent slammed into her.
His tan face wasn’t completely shaved. His light shadow of stubble caused her eyes to linger on him for longer than she would have liked.
Damn.
She recovered quickly. “I don’t drink.”
Reeve looked her over, his eyes narrowing slightly across his otherwise casual demeanor.
His black leather top fitted him perfectly, dipping open into his tattooed chest. Three tiered necklaces hung from his neck.
Each with a symbol she didn’t know the meaning of.
It was no language she had studied. But she had seen it before.
In books about Vexkari, and carved into the hollowed tree in The Yatir Forest.
“You should see a Healer,” he said.
Maeve mustered the strength to scowl at him. A playful glimmer danced across his face at her annoyance.
His eyes were a sunset to themselves.
“I’m fine,” said Maeve. “And I’ve already seen Mrs. Mavros.”
“I don’t mean a Witch Doctor,” he replied. “I mean a Healer.”
“Same difference,” said Maeve.
“Not at all,” said Reeve. “A Healer has power ordained from the Gods. Irma is merely a good nurse. And you’re not fine. There is dark magic hurting you that you did not create.”
“Fuck you,” snapped Maeve cooly.
“My, my,” said Reeve with a slick smile. “You’re spicy this evening. All guards down.”
“Would you prefer me to engage with you in the forced and fake manner that I spend nearly all of my interactions at such events as these?”
Reeve’s smile met his eyes. “No. You’re much more fun this way.”
Maeve rolled her eyes with a quick shake of her head.
“I’ll go fetch Mal for you then,” said Reeve.
“No,” said Maeve quickly. “No, thank you.”
“Hiding something, are we?”
“Can you mind your own business?”
Reeve gave another small chuckle.
“I don’t mind sending my own Healer to see you, or you can come to Aterna to see her. I’m sure Ambrose would love a visit to my city again.”
“You will say nothing of this to my father,” said Maeve.
Reeve’s face twisted in confusion, with a hint of pity. “I don’t know why you’re hiding from them, or from the reality that something is wrong, but if you change your mind-”
“I won’t,” said Maeve carelessly.
Reeve downed the rest of his drink and shrugged, the concern on his face gone. “Have it your way.”
The moon was high when Mal and Ophelia disappeared into the crowd as she stole him from speaking to Kier’s wife. Maeve attempted to hide that she noticed this, but there was very little hiding from Abraxas.
“You’re overthinking,” murmured Abraxas.
Maeve sighed and ignored him.
“Merlin,” whispered Abraxas, his glass of brandy dropping from his lips.
Maeve followed his gaze across the hall. Reeve, stood shaking hands with her father. He gave her mother’s hand a kiss.
“Ugh,” said Maeve, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what the fuss is over with him.”
Abraxas grimaced. “First, he’s the most powerful being alive. Second, I didn’t realize you went blind, cousin. Look at him.”
“No,” said Maeve, turning back to the bar.
“He’s coming this way,” said Abraxas hurriedly.
“No, he’s not,” said Maeve.
Abraxas pulled his drink to his lips and murmured, “yes he is.”
“Mr. Rosethorn,” came Reeve’s voice. “Maeve.”
“You don’t intend to address me formally as well?” She asked dryly, turning towards him.
“I feel more aquatinted with you than, what is it, your cousin?”
Abraxas smiled brightly at Reeve and nodded. Maeve rolled her eyes and turned fully towards Reeve.
“Abraxas, this is the High Lord of Aterna, the Shadow Slayer, and Senshi Warrior. High Lord, Shadow Slayer and Senshi Warrior, this is my cousin Abraxas.”
Reeve eyed her humorously. “You honor me, little kitten.”
Abraxas choked loudly on his drink, spilling it across the front of his suit. He turned towards the bar and hastily dried his attire with the snap of his fingers.
Maeve smiled at Reeve. “The honor is all mine, your majesty.”
Reeve tilted his head back and nodded slowly, sizing her up. He exhaled loudly.
“Abraxas,” said Reeve. “Do you enjoy cigars?”
Abraxas turned towards the High Lord. “Sinfully.”
“Come,” said Reeve. “Ambrose and I have a new box to break open. It looks like your cousin has more brooding she’d like to do. Let’s leave her to it.”
Maeve bit her bottom lip and shook her head with a suppressed smirk. Abraxas quickly kissed her cheek and followed Reeve off without so much as a goodbye.