Once finished, Mal inspected Maeve’s potion, which had a pink aroma wafting around it. He gave her a nod. Mal bottled their potions in preparation for Hummingdoor’s assessment.
“I daresay these look, smell, and feel perfect!” Hummingdoor cheered from the other side of the workstation. “No doubt one would be cured instantly with this antidote, Mal, my boy. Well done.”
Mal stood leaned against the edge of the tall work table.
Hummingdoor set the vial back on their work desk.
“Could we see, sir?” Mal asked casually.
Hummingdoor looked at him. “See what?”
“If it would cure one instantly, as you said.”
Mal’s eyes slid slowly to Maeve.
“I don’t think anyone is willing to poison themselves in class today just to see how sharp your antidote is, Mr. Peur,” he said lightheartedly.
Maeve spoke before she could think.
“I will,” said Maeve cooly.
The Professor’s smile faltered slightly as his head shot towards Maeve. He stuttered a few broken words.
Maeve wasn’t sure exactly what came over her. She grabbed the poison she made, which she knew to be absolutely without flaw, pulled out the stopper and locked eyes with Mal. He stared back at her with a vacant expression that danced on excitement.
“Maeve!” Screamed Violet.
Maeve downed the contents of the vial in one gulp. It tasted sweet, like crunchy sugar and honey.
Professor Hummingdoor stood across the table from her with wide eyes. His hands were stuck in mid-air.
“Miss Sinclair, what did you just do?”
“You said yourself, sir. I’ll be cured instantly with the antidote. I have no doubt either,” said Maeve, her head becoming light.
Mal took a step towards her.
The Professor stammered, his eyes glossy round spheres. “What if we’re wrong? It would take me weeks to brew the antidote, by which time you’ll be surely dead.”
Maeve’s legs were giving out under her. She stepped towards the wall, bracing herself. Mal moved closer.
“Merlin! I’ll be hung, the Premier’s daughter-” started Hummingdoor.
“As I said, sir, I don’t doubt-”
Mal was suddenly all that she saw, then the room around her went black.
When Maeve awoke, she was lying in the Healing Hall. The crisp white linen bed sheets were warm against her skin. It was late, as the only light in the room came from her bedside candle. She propped herself up and looked around for Madam Kimmerance, the head healer at school.
“I told her she could go to bed,” said a familiar voice. Maeve looked towards the foot of her bed, where Mal sat. “Madam Kimmerance, that is,” he said.
Maeve pulled herself completely upright. “It’s that late? I’ve just been asleep?”
Mal nodded. “I suppose that’s what happens when you down an entire bottle of poison, Maeve.”
Mal’s voice was low. It was quiet in the castle at such a late hour.
“What happened after I fainted?”
