Abraxas nodded. “I fell asleep in your father’s study around three.”
Maeve smiled. “Did you really? What about Mal?”
“He went home around four, I believe. Your Father says they were up until the early hours of the morning with some of the others, so I assume he is resting,” said Abraxas.
“But you felt the need to disturb me?” Asked Maeve sourly.
“I do not fear you the way I fear him,” said Abraxas, simply. “Where did you get off to anyway?”
Maeve groaned, then recounted her heated argument with Alphard to Abraxas as they poured orange juice and piled pastries on their plates.
“Mal won’t be pleased,” said Abraxas plainly. “But he’s been very understanding. Things are changing quickly. Not everyone will adjust right away. Besides, we know Alphard, and that wasn’t him.”
“Wasn’t it, though?” Asked Maeve. “You know as well as I do, he’s got a nasty side.”
“You’re being thick,” said Abraxas, smearing jam across his toast and shaking his head.
“What?”
He paused for a moment and sighed. “You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t realize your parents and his parents have had the pair of you picked out your whole life?”
“Come off it,” said Maeve.
“Maeve,” said Abraxas. His voice was more solemn than she could ever remember seeing him before. “That’s been decided.”
“No, it hasn’t!” Shot Maeve.
“By your families, it has, and you and Mal are re-writing things to your own accord, rightfully so, and of course, Alphard feels cheated and betrayed, especially with Victoria likely being betrothed to Damario in just a few weeks.”
“I never pledged myself to Alphard,” said Maeve.
“No,” said Abraxas calmly. “But do any of us pledge ourselves in an arranged marriage? And how many times have you snogged him? How many parties did he take you to freshman year?”
Maeve’s mouth fell open. “None of that means I agreed to marry him.”
“I’m not arguing it does. However, maybe you can see why, in a drunken state, he lashed out at you. Why he came to you for comfort in the first place. When comfort was what you provided one another. Especially when Victoria was all over Damario last night.”
Maeve frowned. “She was?”
Abraxas nodded.
“Oh.”
She sat back in her chair and sighed.
Spinel jumped on the table and began lapping up porridge. Maeve folded her arms across herself and stared away from Abraxas.
“It’s truly burdenous knowing everything,” he said.
After breakfast, Maeve tucked herself away in the observatory on the East side of the house for the rest of the day. Spinel was ripping up frayed bits of carpet while she lay in the window reading. It was late afternoon before Mal came to the house and found her. He leaned in the doorway, studying her predatorily.
She felt his presence the moment he appeared outside the gates. The ring around her neck ensured that.
“Good afternoon, Sinclair?” Asked Mal.
The formal use of her last name did not go unnoticed.
“Fine,” she replied, avoiding his gaze for longer than necessary. He crossed the room smoothly and took up in one of the velvet armchairs, crossing one of his long legs over the other.
