𝖝𝖑. Mess of a Dinner Party

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𝖝𝖑

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𝖝𝖑. Mess of a Dinner Party


Maeve


THE PREMIER'S HOME is a palace in all but name. It makes Maeve uneasy. She's had more than enough of palaces to know she shouldn't trust what lingers behind sculpted beauty and gleaming windows. And yet, here she is, staying within its apartments, her family with her. She knows that it's supposed to be safe for her, for them. But still, thoughts linger. Anyone can betray anyone.

The palace is vast, but the layout is simple enough, and it takes little time for Maeve to descend to the ground floor, where the public rooms are. Eventually, she can just follow the smell of food, letting it lead her through room after room after room of grand salons and galleries. She passes the dining area the size of a ballroom, dominated by a table big enough for forty, as well as a massive stone fireplace. But the table is bare and no flame crackles in the grate.

"Miss Deuveux, is it?"

She turns to the kind voice, finding an even kinder face. A man beckons from one of the many arched doorways leading out onto another terrace. He has dark skin, and his smile flashes like a white crescent above an even whiter silk suit.

"Yes," she replies evenly.

He grins wider. "Very good. We'll be eating out here, under the stars. I thought it best to do so, on your first visit."

The man gestures and Maeve follows, crossing the grand dining room to meet him. With smooth motions, he takes her arm, locking his elbow with hers as he leads her out into the cool night air. The smell of food intensifies, making her mouth water.

"So tense," the man chuckles, moving his arm a little to contrast against Maeve's tight muscles. His air is easy, so much so that she wants to mistrust him. "I'm Cardan, and I cooked the dinner. So if you have any complaints, keep them to yourself."

She bites her lip, trying to hide a smirk. "I'll do my best."

He only grins wider in reply.

And that's when Maeve notices it ━ the spider veins in his eyes are grey, branching across white. His blood is silver. She swallows around a sudden lump in her throat.

"May I ask what ability you possess, Cardan?"

His response is a thin smile. "Is it not obvious?" He gestures to the many plants and flowers, both on the terrace and dangling from the many balconies and windows. "I am but a humble greenwarden, Miss Deuveux."

For the sake of appearances, she forces a smile of her own. Humble. She's seen corpses with roots curling from their eyes and mouths. There's no such thing as a humble Silver, or a harmless one. They all have the ability to kill. But then, she supposes, so does everyone that is red-blooded. So does every human on this earth. It just depends on whether or not you act on it.

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