Chapter 60
Clarissa hosted a charity ball to raise money for the Opulentos Society, for which Maeve had very little care.
But Abraxas insisted she attend. The society would be providing major contributions to reestablish a thriving society in The Dread Lands.
They had planned restaurants and shops and the restoration of mansions and palaces.
Maeve was seated at the bar in the main hall. Mal was still far off, unreachable, in the Dread Lands. She didn’t expect him to return until the last second before his coronation.
“How did you squirm your way out of it?”
Maeve looked to her right at Arianna, disappointed to hear the disdain return to her sister’s voice, given that they had been on agreeable terms lately.
“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now. I take what I want.”
“I cannot believe you used magic on our ancient grandmother to get your way!”
Maeve scoffed. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“You lie,” seethed Arianna. “It’s all a lie. I’d love to see you duel without that pretty little ring.”
Maeve’s heart skipped a beat. Arianna wasn’t stupid.
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” said Maeve grimly. “I didn’t confound Grandma Agatha, and I don’t appreciate the assumption that I did. And I will gladly kick your ass any day without it.”
Arianna pushed away from the bar, but Maeve was on her heels, unable to let it go.
“Jealous, are we? Jealous that you’re too scared to venture out of the box created to keep you confined?”
Arianna didn’t stop as they entered the ballroom. Patrons and donors were eyeing them awkwardly as they continued to argue.
Maeve continued. “I’m sorry you did everything you were told, and now you’re miserable for it.”
Arianna turned in a flash, and Maeve whipped out her hand just in time to deflect a hefty curse sent her way.
A large collective gasp came from the room, and a few guests quickly shuffled away from them.
“Oh, my, Arianna,” Maeve mocked her sister. “I must have hit a nerve.”
Arianna screamed in anger, sending bright green beams her way. Maeve blocked her once more.
“You’re making a scene,” said Maeve cooly.
“How do you always get your way? How is everyone else making concessions except for you?”
“Are you joking?” Laughed Maeve darkly. “You have no idea the sacrifices I’ve made, the things I’ve endured to ensure Mal is crowned and we are able to return home.”
“That’s rich.”
Arianna sent another spell her way, which Maeve blocked with ease. Arianna’s spells were weak. Her anger was fueling them, which, for Arianna, was not a powerful enough source.
“It’s not my fault I fight for what I want and you don’t, Arianna.”
“And what you want is that dirty blooded boy,” hissed Arianna.
Thin strands of weak, green lightning swarmed at Arianna’s finger tips. But Maeve didn’t notice.
A surge of hatred rose in her chest. She barely had time to think before her body reacted.
Anger was a powerful source for her.
A jet of black light burst from the tip of her fingers. Arianna screamed as it was deflected with a deafening crash, though not by herself.
Ambrose Sinclair stood between his daughters, looking at Maeve in complete shock.
The room was deadly quiet. The band had stopped playing, and the usual chatter and clanking of glasses had ceased. All eyes were on Maeve and Arianna.
“Come with me. Now,” commanded Ambrose as he strode past Maeve.
She looked at her sister, whose face was white with fear, and she dared not look at anyone else in the room. Ambrose was silent as they ascended the stairs to his study.
“What is the matter with you?” Ambrose spoke darkly once they were behind a closed door, which he slammed.
Maeve wasn’t even aware her father had spoken. She made her way to the sofa and sat, shaking out her hand.
“Are you aware of what you just did?” Asked Ambrose, louder now.
“I used illegal magic,” said Maeve, her voice dry. “Deadly and unforgivable magic.”
There were only a handful of spells that produced black light. None were permitted under the Orator’s Office.
“Deadly.” Ambrose searched her expression, confused. “On your sister!”
Magic Ambrose blocked.
“She insulted me. She said Mal had dirty blood. He’s about to be The Dread Prince!”
“I don’t give a damn what she said. Maeve Sinclair, none of my children have ever embarrassed me like this.”
Maeve reclined in the sea, genuinely stung by his words.
Ambrose sat behind his desk, one hand rubbing his chin. “You are aware that you did that in front of at least a hundred people?”
Maeve was speechless. Conflicted by the way her father was looking at her and the knowledge that Arianna had deserved it.
“You have nothing to say?”
Maeve looked blankly at her father. “I am sorry to disappoint you.”
Ambrose shifted in his chair.
Maeve continued. “I have lived under her torture for a long time. She has always pushed me when I was down and made it clear she viewed herself as superior to me. And now that she is the one envious of me, she wants to be nasty still. She threw four curses at me before I countered. I blocked every single one too, and I think that only made her madder. Do you remember when her curses brought me to my knees? She isn’t above me anymore and she can’t stand it. ”
“She is your sister and my daughter, too.” Ambrose lowered his head and spoke tenderly. “You could show her some compassion.”
Maeve’s mouth fell open. “Compassion? Where was her compassion towards me my entire childhood?”
“Stop dwelling on the past, Maeve!” Ambrose raised his voice. “Can you not see the strides your sister has made toward you? Did you not witness her concern for your safety after Christmas? Her empathy? Newfound as it may be, it is there.”
Maeve chewed the inside of her lip.
“Of course, she is envious of you,” continued Ambrose. “You have the whole world ahead of you, whatever you choose for it, and she does not. You are about to stand at the side of The Dread Descendant- there is no greater honor I could wish you.”
“But that’s not-”
“Whose fault that is remains irrelevant,” interrupted Ambrose. He shook his head, lowering his voice. “If anything, it’s my fault.”
Maeve’s face scrunched. “How’s that?”
Ambrose leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. “I told myself, after Atony, I would put an end to it. That no more of my children would suffer at the hands of the Committee. I promised your sister that even, did you know?”
Maeve shook her head.
“Oh, yes,” said Ambrose. “As she sat where you sit just after Atony’s funeral, she sobbed, terrified, of these people that were capable of such a thing.
She’s smart. She knew it was no accident.
I promised her refuge. When the time came, I fought for her.
But there are consequences to going against The Committee and their influence in the Orator’s Office, and I feared there were already too many marks against me.
I relented, and they picked Titus for her without a second thought.
And the promise I made her was broken. Just a year ago.
” Ambrose sighed. “I can’t imagine how cheated she feels to know you are the benefactor of the promise I made to her. ”
They sat silently. Finally Maeve said, “I’ll fix it. I’m sorry I embarrassed and disappointed you.”
“You can’t erase it, Maeve,” said Ambrose. “What’s done is done.”
“That’s true,” said Maeve, standing and running her left-hand fingers down her index and middle fingers on the other. “But that doesn’t mean they have to remember it.”
Ambrose’s eyes glittered for a moment.
“Would you like to see it?” Asked Maeve.
Ambrose contemplated what she was saying.
“You’re certain you can do that?”
Maeve smiled. “I’ve already done it.”
They made their way back down to the party, Ambrose at Maeve’s side.
“You’re going to forget the duel between Arianna and me. I can’t help that, and I can’t control one person not forgetting,” said Maeve. “But you’ll remember the rest of our conversation and that we are standing here because of it. Make of that what you will, I suppose.”
Maeve stood in the center of the foyer. Party guests were in the ballroom, singing hall and bar, scattered through the house.
She raised her two fingers to her temple and closed her eyes.
She extracted the memory of her argument with Arianna from only moments ago.
It lingered at the tip of her fingers, swirling around in a silver mass.
“Specifica oblivium,” said Maeve.
The silvery strand of memory began to grow and turn a glittering gold color. In an instant, golden streams exploded from the tips of her fingers, traveling in all directions at the speed of light.
It didn’t take long for the cloud to return to the tip of Maeve’s hand, where it turned silver once more. Maeve popped the memory back in her head.
Maeve looked up at her stunned father.
“I-” stuttered Ambrose. “I had no idea.”
“Do you know why I haven’t taken that job with Daniel Rodriguez, Daddy? As beneficial to our Magical world as it may be? And why they pester you about it constantly still?”
“Because the Orator’s Office will want to weaponize this spell you’ve created.”
Maeve stared at her father intensely and nodded. “I don’t intend to share it.”