“I wonder what other things she has in her collection,” said Maeve.
“I thought something very similar.”
“Your coronation is in five days,” said Maeve. “And your birthday. What better present than a piece of The Dread Armor.”
Mal’s eyes traveled down her neck, then shifted to her hands at the black veins. He placed his elbow on the arm of the chair, cupping his chin. He looked at her with uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, a guilty sadness in his voice.
“It’s not important,” she lied quickly.
Mal took a long breath.
She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to look at herself.
Chapter 57
Maeve met him precisely where he instructed at eight AM sharp. She wore a high-collared shirt, covering the black veins that shot up her neck.
When she Obscured to his location, she landed gracefully. Mal was already waiting for her.
“You’re getting much better at that,” he commented.
“Better when I have full strength.”
Mal turned on his heel and exited the shadowed alleyway. Maeve followed suit. They walked along a row of giant, well-maintained, lavish Parisian mansions before stopping at one that was pale pink.
The cream-colored stone steps were imbedded between rows of colorful flowers all the way to the front door. Mal pulled on a golden rope. A bright melody began to play.
The door was opened quickly by a scrawny and ancient Elf. She looked nothing like Zimsy. She was short. Her skin was bruised and sagging. Her hair was silver and stringy, exposing bald spots across her delicate skull.
Despite her haggard appearance, her voice was bubbly.
“Mr. Peur! Miss Vetus will be delighted you are here,” she said and shut the door behind them.
Maeve thought her grandmother Primrose’s taste was gaudy, but Ophelia’s Great Aunt Vetus took the cake on tacky decor. There were colorful ornate tapestries and curtains all along the walls, even those without windows. The carpet and most pieces of furniture were a thick shag fabric, and everything that could have fringe did. In every color.
“May I ask Mistress’ name to introduce to Miss Willus?” the Elf said.
“This is my good friend, Maeve Sinclair,” said Mal.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Peur, and welcome, Miss Sinclair. Please wait while I announce your arrival.”
The small Elf tottered into the next room, leaving them in the foyer.
“Lovely taste,” said Maeve under her breath.
Mal smirked.
“Malachite!” A loud squeak came from the next room. “Do come in, dear!”
Maeve followed Mal into Vetus’ drawing-room, which looked no different from her foyer, except for the many glassed shelves and pedestals showing off her collections. All were guarded with Magical enchantments.
“Now, I didn’t say you could bring a guest, Mal,” she said.
Mal smiled at her charmingly. “My apologies. This-”
“Maeve Sinclair, yes, I know who she is,” Vetus. “To think I wouldn’t know The Premier’s daughter- Heavens!”
