“Not slacking. I just knew you’d have a handle on things,” retorted Maeve, sweetly looking up at him.
He looked down at her with a reproachful look that danced with humor. He knew she was mocking him.
Malachite, called Mal by those closest to him, was a fellow third-year student and top of their class. Top of the school truly. Even with her sister Arianna graduated from Vaukore, she was still in second place to Malachite. He shone in the spotlight.
The boys hung on his every word. The girls tried relentlessly, but his time with them was always short and quiet.
Private.
The way she would want it to-
The Professors and Instructors praised him just for breathing. But if she was honest with herself, which her bias prevented her from being, his scores and winning streaks earned him those accolades. But she wasn’t honest with herself. She was convinced his good looks and charm were what sealed him first place.
Certainly not his status as a Supreme.
Malachite gestured for her to walk beside him. They strolled down the corridor, Mal moving with a graceful ease that rivaled her own.
She hated that.
Her knee-length skirt swished as she kept stride with him.
“It’s an honor to be a Paragon,” he said. “Or have you forgotten the meaning of the word? You shouldn’t disregard your duties.” Malachite looked over at her. “I’m sure whatever book your nose was in can wait.”
The corners of Maeve’s lips turned down.
“I don’t need a vocabulary lesson,” she said with a placating grin.
Conceited prick.
“And how can you say that patrolling the halls and giving out petty detentions is more important than learning?”
“I didn’t. I said it could wait,” said Malachite matter-of-factly as he ran his long pale fingers through his raven hair.
“What were they up to anyway? Those students?” Maeve asked as they walked the hall together. “I know you sent Abraxas to find me and point out my slacking.”
Mal frowned. “I did no such thing. I noted your absence. Your cousin rushed to find you. If you felt you were slacking, perhaps that’s your own business.”
They continued with their duties as Paragons, a prestigious title given directly from the Headmasters themselves, and strolled the statue and painting lined halls giving directions to confused first year students and reminding them of the Cauldron Ceremony later that evening. A few fresh faced students stared at the castle in amazement. Magic poured from every corner. Even the fire lights themselves burned with ancient magic.
Her black dress code approved sling back thick heels clicked across the floor as they walked mostly in silence.
The first years, freshly eighteen and wide eyed gaped at the enchanted paintings, tapestries are statues. Vaukore Castle’s Magic was alive as ever.
“Rumor has it The Premier escorted you to school himself, despite orders from the Orators Office that all students use the main portal from London to travel to and from this realm.”
“My father never was one for rules,” said Maeve.
“A trait he passed to you.”
Maeve smiled at what was meant to be a dig. “He’s the Premiere. He can do whatever he wants.”
Mal nodded and spoke swiftly. “Must be incredible.”
They reached the courtyard off the first floor. Flowers grew in abundance here, like at Sinclair Estates. Maeve ran her fingers across the bright blooms. Green vines snaked their way along the side of the castle, climbing higher and higher against the stone to be closer the sun. On either side of the shining stone archway down to the grounds were two Magical Militia.
She stood up straight.
Their silver attire perfectly pressed and fitted. Each of them bore that golden S. Maeve suspected each solder here would be a Supreme.
