She looked up from her papers. Then back down. “Just confused as to why I have two classes at the same time.”
Maeve held out her hand. The girl’s eyes flicked up in annoyance. But she handed them to Maeve none the less.
Maeve flipped through them. And then handed them back.
“You don’t,” she said. “You have Introduction to Spell Casting on Mondays and Wednesdays this term, and next term that becomes Charms.”
“Thank you,” said the girl.
“What’s your name?” Asked Maeve.
“Belvadora.”
“Where are you from?”
“Russia. What’s your name?”
“Please,” said Maeve. “Spare me.”
A smile kicked at the corners of Belvadora’s otherwise bored expression. “Maeve Sinclair. Pureblood daughter of the Premier. Head Girl. Why do you care who I am?”
“Because you are the only one in a crowd of cowards who wasn’t afraid. Not of Henry. Not of your fellow Serpentine Court. Not of Mal.”
“Why not of you?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“I’m not an imbecile,” said Belvadora dryly.
“Maeve!” Abraxas called from behind her.
“A few of us train on Saturday mornings. You should come.”
“You’ve never seen me fight.”
“I don’t need to,” said Maeve.
Abraxas appeared at her side, looping his arm through hers. “What about this first year could be so interesting, cousin?”
“Shut up, Brax.”
Belvadora looked Abraxas up and down, slowly and meticulously. Abraxas’ expression shifted to one of interest.
“Well, well,” he said lowly. “Suddenly I’m intrigued.”
Belvadora didn’t miss a beat. “From what I have heard, I’m not your type.”
Abraxas smirked. “Darling, everyone is my type.”
Maeve slipped out of his arm and threw her hands in the air in omission. Mal was waiting for her a few feet away. He joined her in step.
“That’s the girl from the party?”
Maeve nodded. “I invited her to our Saturday morning sessions. I hope that’s okay.”
“Campaigning for me already?” Said Mal with a grin.
Maeve smiled as her hand moved to the back of her neck. Mal’s carefree grin turned to a look of displeasure.
