Chapter 52
Arianna and Titus’ wedding was the ‘event of the decade,’ according to Leslie Loxerman. Clarissa and Titus’ mother had thrown quite the party. Every important witch and wizard alive was present, and Mal made sure to impress them all.
The real event of the century was in exactly one month- Mal’s coronation. The beginning of a new age.
Mal slowly danced Maeve around the ballroom while they talked.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” said Maeve.
She spent the majority of the morning feeling lightheaded, the compressions in her chest heightened once again.
The feeling had come and gone since their travels three months prior.
Her father had gotten Irma Mavros to come over and examine her many times, but the skilled healer found nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, she was lightheaded more often that she ever had been.
Her breath would turn tight in her chest. And then it would fade.
She refused to acknowledge what the High Lord had told her.
That there was dark and unwelcome magic in her.
She continued to take pain potions and deny any negative symptoms.
Maeve watched Arianna and Titus dancing. Her own time was running up. Soon it would be Christmas and the Sacred Seventeen Party where customarily Maeve’s betrothal would be announced.
But no one was saying anything. Not even Mal. In fact, he told Primrose he thought the preservation of Magical bloodlines was vital. How was she to stand at his side and he an exception to his policies?
Mal, always in her thoughts, whispered to her.
“Don’t fret, Little Viper. You have time to set things right.”
Maeve looked up at him. “They are watching us,” she said, her smile never faltering.
“They are,” said Mal.
Leslie Loxerman and The Committee of the Sacred were just across the ballroom.
Maeve continued to stare up at him adoringly.
“You’re good at that,” said Mal, as he pulled her closer.
Maeve tilted her chin up towards him.
“Not yet,” said Mal, smirking down at her.
He danced them around until they were back in a good line of sight.
“Now,” said Mal, slowly bringing his lips gently to hers.
This kiss was the opposite of how she was greeted when she arrived at his flat early that morning. When he pushed her against the wall in the darkened hallway with demanding and paralyzing force. She didn’t mind that kiss at all.
Nor did she mind the way he delicately and loosely kissed her now. But that wasn’t what she wanted them to see.
With a sharp inhale, she pushed to her toes, and wrapped her fingers through his hair. She spread her mouth open and ran her tongue across his lips.
Mal tensed under her, and then relaxed with a chuckle into her lips.
Maeve looked to Leslie Loxerman. Disdain curled at the old witch’s lip.
Maeve bit into his bottom lip, her teeth raking across the skin as she lowered back down to her feet, never breaking her gaze with Loxerman.
Maeve didn’t smile. The song ended, and she looked up at Mal. His hands slid behind his back.
“Always the rebel,” he said darkly.
“You said to get it done,” said Maeve innocently.
She left Mal to charm the guests and went into into the Dining Hall to get a drink and look for her father. The room was empty save for Abraxas and one of the boys she recognized to be Alphard’s friend who were seated at the bar. They were sitting so close Abraxas was nearly in his lap.
A few seats down was Reeve and his Commander, Eryx.
Maeve smiled softly.
Abraxas’ cheeks were flushed. Maeve put her arm around him.
Maeve, darling,” drawled Abraxas. “Have you met Hugo Septum?”
Hugo extended his hand to her, and she took it.
“Pleasure,” said Maeve.
She turned to Abraxas, who was clearly very drunk.
“Are you dreading it, Maeve?” Asked Abraxas.
“Dreading what, Brax?”
“This,” said Abraxas, gesturing about the room. “The wedding, the whole thing- I know I am.” Abraxas burst out laughing, and Hugo followed suit. Hugo was as drunk as Abraxas.
Maeve snagged a glass of water from the bar. Her father’s favorite glass of brandy appeared. The Estate was quick and smart.
Maeve finally looked over at Reeve. His eyes were already on her.
“Good evening, Miss Sinclair,” said Reeve with a grin.
“Good evening, Your Imminence,” she said with a dramatic bow.
“Gods, don’t do that again,” he said with feigned offense.
His eyes flickered with confidence. Bridging on arrogance. He took a swig of his drink and Maeve raised her eyebrows.
“What?” He asked.
His voice was challenging.
“Nothing,” said Maeve with a playful shrug. “Just thinking about that time, you couldn’t save me from Kietel.”
Eryx clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away. Abraxas howled with laughter.
Reeve slammed his drink down on the bar and rounded on Maeve. He licked across his teeth. Something about the motion sparked a fire in her stomach.
“Listen here-”
Maeve was smiling so triumphantly that a real laugh escaped her lips.
“You got yourself captured that evening,” said Reeve.
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” said the cocky High Lord. “You would have made it to Malachite and Obscured had you not been staring at my incredibly fearsome form.”
Maeve rolled her eyes.
Even though he was right.
“Someone thinks highly of himself, doesn’t he?” Asked Maeve dryly.
“You have no idea,” said Eryx. “Though from that display at dinner a few nights ago, I’d say you are equally as vain.”
Maeve smirked.
“You’d speak to a lady in such a way?” Asked Maeve.
Reeve laughed now. “You only play that card when it suits you.”
Maeve dropped her voice and leaned in close as she addressed him. “That is the only time one should be playing any cards, Your Grace.”
“Stop that,” said Reeve, with a growl in his tone. “Or my patience will run thin.”
“Does your grace only extend so far?”
Reeve licked his lips and leaned towards her. “I can show you exactly how far it extends.”
Maeve’s mouth fell open. Abraxas’ attention flew from Hugo and his wide eyes landed on Reeve. A wicked smile at her cousin’s lips.
“I find it hard to believe such crass words have warmed your bed for the last hundred years,” said Maeve.
“Why don’t you tell me in the morning?”
He was so bold, so brazen, so ridiculous, that she laughed.
She tried to find a smart remark to wipe his smirk off his face, but she knew one would not come, and The High Lord was too confident to be swayed by any blow.
“Don’t play the game if you’re going to get your feelings hurt,” said Reeve. “I will always win. I have centuries of a perfected quick wit.”
“More like you’re a perfected prick,” muttered Maeve.
“I have that too,” said Reeve with a wink.
“Set yourself up for that one, cousin,” said Abraxas.
Reeve smiled at him cunningly. Abraxas blushed.
“Fine,” she said. “I yield.”
Reeve and Eryx shared a triumphant toast, slammed their goblets on the bar, and downed their drinks.
She snagged her father’s drink from across the bar. “He who knows all,” she said and turned to Abraxas, “do you know where my father ran off to earlier?”
Abraxas swallowed his drink hard and nodded.
“He’s in his study with the Orator,” said Abraxas.
Maeve thanked him and made her way out of the dining hall.
She rounded up the stairs and headed towards her father’s study. Maeve knocked lightly on the door.
“Enter,” said Ambrose.
Maeve pushed open the door. Her Father and Orator Moon were seated in two large armchairs, smoking cigars.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” said Maeve.
“Not at all, dear,” said Moon. “I actually have a message for you.”
Maeve sat down with them.
“Let me guess, it’s from Daniel Rodriguez,” said Maeve.
Ambrose laughed, and Moon chuckled.
“Yes,” said Moon. “He said he’d give you Junior Undersecretary.”
“Oh-ho!” Cheered Ambrose.
Maeve smiled. “How many times do I have to decline this job?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone turning down a Junior Undersecretary position right out of school,” laughed Moon. “Merlin’s beard, child, what position could you possibly want? I know you must hate it in the Bellator Sector, all that rivalry isn’t good for the soul.”
“My father’s job,” said Maeve, without missing a beat. “Or perhaps yours.”
Moon choked on his cigar, and Ambrose smirked subtly, pride in his eyes.
“I’d expect nothing less from the daughter of this man,” said Moon, jerking an elbow toward Ambrose as he tried to relight his puffed-out cigar.
Maeve stood and turned to her father. “I only wanted to say goodnight, Daddy. It’s getting late for me,” said Maeve with a yawn.
There was a knock at the ajar door. She turned. Mal and Abraxas, Reeve and Eryx filed into the room. Others behind them. Important people Abraxas made sure had the opportunity to meet Mal on a personal level, over drinks and cigars.
“Goodnight,” said Ambrose as he kissed her cheek.
Maeve walked past Mal. He snagged her arm gently. “Stay,” he said.
“Oh no,” she gazed up at him. “It’s past my bedtime. They’re all yours.”
He smiled softly and brushed his thumb across her lip. For a moment, they forgot where they were. They forgot Ambrose and the others.
“Goodnight, Little Viper,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, My Prince.”
Mal’s chest rose dramatically and then fell, his breath cool down her face and neck. He dropped her arm.
And they remembered they weren’t alone.
And for the first time, neither of them cared.
“Goodnight,” she said to the rest.
She closed the large, rounded door behind her and headed back down the hall. Her fingers lingered across her bottom lip. His touch was captivating. Addicting.
His fingers were scared with death and yet she trusted them completely. She craved them.
She made her way down the back set of stairs and down the long corridor to the third-floor landing when a voice came from behind her.
“I was beginning to think I’d never get just a moment with you again.”
Alphard Mavros emerged from the darkness, staggering slightly. His wild hair down to his shoulders. Maeve smiled.