“Their presence changes nothing,” he said. “You study and practice just as last year.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He nodded. And Maeve nodded in return. And he dropped his hands.
They physical affection had been back at home. Ambrose stood straight as a board now. His men were here.
“Have a wonderful term, darling. I’ll see you at Christmas.”
Maeve smiled and turned away from him, making her way to the gates. The Magical Militia didn’t look at her as she passed, but she knew they knew Ambrose was there. And they knew who Maeve was.
Headmaster Elgin stood at the gates, clapping her hands and giving out welcoming hugs. She reassured a few new students who were huddled together. She wore a bright white pantsuit with a pinned cape at her shoulders. Casual clothes for a Witch. Her long, salt and pepper hair was slicked tightly back.
For eleven years she had been one of the Headmasters of Vaukore. And for eleven years she greeted each student by name at the gates.
She smiled at Maeve as she passed. “Maeve. Where’s Spinel?”
“Already hunting in the mountains I’m sure,” answered Maeve with a soft smile.
The ancient magic of Vaukore Academy shifted through her as she crossed the stone threshold past the gates. She inhaled the power happily as it brushed up her leg with each step. It was solid, consistent and unyielding. Like the great stone mountains nestled around it, where golden light cascaded down onto the castle.
Past the gates were the stables, which held single horses, saddled and ready, and numerous horse drawn carriages, for those students uncomfortable riding through the mountain terrain. She petted a dark black mare that bowed its head at her. Some of her silken mane was braided intricately with golden jewels and rings.
“Would you like to race?”
Maeve turned.
Malachite Peur stood gripping the reigns of a horse, his Paragon badge shiny as ever. His was emerald and silver. Maeve’s was sapphire and gold. A symbol of their positions and rank in the school. And the colors of their Courts.
“Must it always be a competition,” she drawled as she mounted the black mare.
He was exquisi-
“Where my competition is concerned,” he replied with a gorgeous, feline smile.
He was conceited. Nothing else.
“I’m honored you think of me as competition,” said Maeve in a bored tone, “given that you have an absurdly high option of yourself.”
The youngest Supreme in history. Of course he did.
His raven colored hair fluttered in the morning breeze. He pushed a soft curl off his forehead and looked up at the castle in the distance, a soft smile pulling up at the corners of his lips. Near his cheekbones.
Cheekbones that could cut a girl’s heart right open-
Cheekbones that granted him anything he wanted.
She stared at him with a soft placating smile, but he merely smirked in satisfaction and mounted his horse.
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to loose to me again this year,” said Malachite.
Maeve rolled her eyes.
She didn’t look back as she squeezed her legs together tightly, and the mare quickly began up the grassy dirt path. They broke the tree line quickly and Maeve smiled.
Vaukore Castle was glowing in the distance.
Chapter 2
