Everyone was eager to see what The Dread Descendant and the young Bellator Optimum could do.
Maeve and Mal danced their duel as usual. Nowadays, most of their time spent practicing was no longer with dueling formalities, and they were freer.
She enjoyed herself nonetheless. Mal let her show off, showed himself off, and they both put on a show for the crowd. Maeve held on longer than Mal meant for her to.
She was growing stronger.
She sat back on her knees, breathing heavily as Mal stood over her with his finger pointed at her throat. Ophelia’s cheered for him above all the rest.
He smirked down at her.
“Well done,” said Mal extending his hand to her, pulling her to her feet. “You held on longer than usual.”
Hand in hand, they took a bow. Mal was swarmed at once as Maeve slipped through the crowd. She headed for the bar, where her father leaned, bragging on her loudly. She needed refreshing after that performance.
She overheard one of her father’s friends say that they had never seen a boy so young with so much strength.
“Dread magic is ancient,” said Ambrose. “Not unlike pureblooded magic, but something else entirely, too.”
Mal had one more duel, of which she knew he would win. The crowd never grew tired of watching him beat elite soldiers twice his age in a duel, though. They were just as captivated by him now as they were over the summer when he arrived.
Maeve was on the back balcony with Abraxas, admiring the illuminated butterflies that now lit up over the gardens.
“They were my idea you know,” said Abraxas.
“I should have known,” she replied.
“Maeve, darling,” said Ambrose, appearing at her side.
“I’ll give you a moment,” said Abraxas.
“No,” said Ambrose. “Stay. If you are to be Malachite’s hand, it is crucial, you understand the game.” Ambrose wasted no time getting to the point and spoke openly to Maeve. “I need you to go thank Xander for being here tonight and offer to see him out. It would mean a great deal. . . for appearances.”
“A game indeed,” shot Maeve. “So it can appear that I’m remotely interested in this nonsense?”
“I know you don’t want Xander. I know you don’t want Alphard.”
“Is that so terrible?”
Abraxas opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.
Ambrose gave him a nod.
“It’s not that it’s terrible, Maeve,” said Abraxas. “It’s that things are delicate right now. And everything we can do to ensure that Mal is crowned and we return to the Dread Lands is critical.”
Maeve looked to her Father. He inclined his head as if to say Abraxas nailed it.
Maeve found it difficult to argue. After she chewed her lip for a moment, she sighed. “Fine.”
Maeve pushed past them both and headed to find The Elven Prince.
“It was incredibly kind of you to have me tonight,” said Xander.
“Oh, I believe we’re the ones lucky to have you. We are overwhelmed by the Queen’s willingness to communicate and join forces.”
“I do hope we can see one another again. You turned out to be a pleasant surprise.”
“Oh?”
