“Surprised myself, really.”
“Not me. I knew you had every bit of that in you. Besides,” he traced the ring around her neck, “you had a little help.”
“From the very best.”
She looked up at him. His fingers were cold on her chest. She felt disappointed as he moved his hand away from her.
“What’s happened?” Maeve asked. “Abraxas said you’ve been charming everyone all evening.”
He sighed deeply, and his lip curled. He turned and looked out over the gardens, wrapping his fingers around the banister.
“You are a Scared Seventeen. They look at me differently.”
“Stop it,” said Maeve plainly. “Mal. None of it will matter soon once they see what you can do and come to understand your desires. Who you are-”
“It matters now,” he retorted quietly.
“Because you are letting it,” argued Maeve. “You are unbelievably charming, and my father already adores you. This is a party with a bunch of drunks that you’ve barely gotten to spend any real time with. Tonight is an introduction. It isn’t the end goal. You have time. They will all see in the end. Don’t forget most of them look down on us automatically because, in their eyes, we’re just children. They haven’t even seen you duel.”
“According to many of them, it’s your duty to continue your pureblood line. With another pureblood.”
“Like my sister already. Like poor Astrea. Cousins. First cousins.”
Mal ignored her comment. “Do you think I don’t know why they feel the need to remind me of this fact?”
Mal’s voice cut through her as they tiptoed on a topic they never discussed. In fact, since their arrival at Sinclair Estates, Mal’s physical affection had vanished entirely.
“I have no desire to lead the life that is expected of me,” Maeve spoke quietly, looking out over the party. “And I had decided that long before you.”
“I know, Little Viper.” Mal turned towards her and looked her over. His voice became soft. “I know.”
“Then smile,” she said, mirroring his movement, “because my father and The Orator are coming this way.”
“Maeve,” Ambrose’s excited voice rang out over the music. Maeve turned, acting like she hadn’t seen him coming.
“Hello, Daddy!” She leaned toward her father and accepted a kiss on the cheek. Mal smiled at her sweet demeanor. Maeve knew she was good at playing the game. And she used it.
“Leonard, you remember my youngest, Maeve.”
“Orator Moon, so good to see you,” said Maeve.
“Ah, yes! Of course, I do- of course, I do,” said Moon, taking her hand and kissing it quickly. “I must apologize for the nastiness at Vaukore back in April.”
“It wasn’t your fault, sir,” said Maeve kindly. “Orator this is my friend Malachite Peur. Paragon Serpentine and top of our class,” said Maeve as she smiled at Mal adoringly. Mal extended his hand to Moon.
“An honor to meet you, sir.”
Mal had charm still left to spare evidently.
“No introduction needed on my part, Mr. Peur. Every Magical in the Orator’s Office knows your name. Rumor has it you’ll have top pick of any job straight out of school and then perhaps the highest ranking Bellator there ever was.”
“I have no doubt,” said Ambrose. “Just wait until you see him duel.”
“Mal is quite the companion to have, sir,” said Maeve, smiling at him.
Mal met her eyes with appreciation for the compliment.
“Peur- interesting name, I think I heard of the Peur-,” started Moon, but Maeve was quicker, as though she had seen this particular change in conversation coming, her crystal glass slipped from her fingers and shattered at their feet.
