Chapter 22 Everyone Gets A Job So I Don’t Suffer Alone
\[ALTERNATE KEY BEAT: POISON SCENE\]
\[POISON BROKEN DOWN. ONE DAY GIVEN AS A REWARD FOR REST\]
\[ABILITY TO NULLIFY POISONS; ACTIVE\]
\[SKILL: AURA OF UNCONVINCING PIETY\]
\[SKILL: FIST OF SOCIAL RUIN\]
\[SKILL: TEMPORARY TITLE GRANTING\]
\[SKILL: KNEE-JERK NULLIFICATION\]
\[SKILL: ALMS TO ALCHEMY\]
\[SKILL: REPUTATION OF A FERAL GOBLIN\]
\[SKILL: PREMEDITATED TERMS AND CONDITIONS\]
Remember that little agreement with NACE? Maeve had decided today was the day she finally scanned through its folders more seriously.
When she had made that contract, she knew more than anyone else that NACE and whoever its owners were would try to find their loopholes too— and she was prepared for that. That was the best part about the contract being created.
Though she created them as airtight as she possibly could, she also had a very slight habit of giving the other participants of the contract little loopholes to see their reactions… how their brains worked.
NACE did not actively make any changes on the contract, but its reaction to the clauses made it clear that it was not only petty, but human petty. It stayed away and appeared after the first three seconds if Maeve called it, but had a blank screen till it was ready to speak.
And the skills clearly were a mockery of whatever important events she had done and managed to surpass.
BUT SHE HAD EXPECTED THIS!
Maeve knew there was only so much leverage NACE could possess. Plus, another clause it was constantly fluttering around was the ‘actively kill etc’ one. There had been no formal sign of future retirement, which made her certain it was playing around the word actively— as she thought it would.
If it was an AI, then it was smart, but the way it processed certain things… it wasn’t as crafty as the Queen’s would be. Which cemented the fact that it was not created by her, but a human nonetheless— was probably the reason it felt human when it spoke. Whoever it is shared some bits of its sentience.
Maeve didn’t want to think about it too much.
Amir did not search for any loopholes with his. Which meant he was completely aware of the sort of person she was— or just desperate, and from what she saw two days before, it was the latter.
“Are you certain that this is necessary?”
Maeve slightly turned her head to the side, her eyes moving over the other three elf men— if they were elves anyway— kneeling with their hands up, looking sweaty and exhausted. Their names were Eldarion, Vaeliok and Arranis.
She pulled down her glasses, eyeing the lovely food— which was then by the way, in front of her before raising her smoothie to her mouth and taking a sip from her straw, “Seeing you suffer while I suffer too? Yes. How else can I effectively work knowing that you are all at peace? My jealousy knows no bound, it seems,”
In front of her, a gust of wind moved towards her direction, sand following the air immediately. She quickly wore the glasses up the bridge of now, squeezing her face slightly at it before letting her features rest.
In front of her, Lucien and Amir sparred.
Or for a better use of the word, Lucien tried to spar with Amir.
If she hadn’t been watching them for days now, she wouldn’t have noticed it.
It was clear to her that Amir might be an elf due to his lean but muscular frame, but he moved like he wasn’t fully applying pressure on the ground. Like he was floating slightly. And he didn’t use a sword. He never fully did. He held onto a wood sword, just a sign of respect to Lucien he said, and kept his arm behind him fully.
No matter how hard Lucien swung, it didn’t hit him.
Not once.
Not even for a second.
He moved like the wind helped him adjust, every movement he made adjusted like he was a leaf floating, weightless.
“My liege, you cannot—”
Maeve's head snapped to the side, her eyebrows furrowing as she watched a very familiar face stride up to her. Slowly, she rose from her chair, placing her hands together as she said, “Duke Adrian, what a pleasure—”
The rest of the words didn’t leave her lips before the tip of his sword was at her throat. His face darkened, his eyes filled with rage as he demanded, “A duel? You have rendered her reputation to bland madness but now you put her life at stake? Willingly?”
Maeve didn’t need to ask what he meant by that. She had… an idea of it. Her smile didn’t waver. “Welcome. You’re late. Look to your right. There’s a student I’d like you to train— and please, could you all set down your swords? You wouldn’t be able to make a mark on him— including you, Amir.”
The five men who were currently surrounding Adrian with their swords drawn did not seem like they would obey. He could sense their unified hate the second they drew close, but the second they heard her words, they all fell back, like soldiers under one spell.
The woman in question didn’t even seem concerned. She sat back on her table, waving her hand at him. “You should direct your sword at Lucien. He needs the training,”
The elf returned in front of her— the one she claimed as her Vessel. Adrian’s entire body stiffened. “I am the one training Lucien. Why do you need him?”
Maeve turned her attention back to Adrian, “Do you hear that? I don’t, I fear. It must be the wind— there was a lovely song by that name. I believe someone as solemn as you would have liked it,”
Amir looked torn, lost. His hands clenched the table she sat behind, his eyes flashing with something underneath it— hurt, perhaps? Anger? Adrian didn’t know what it was. What he did know though, was the fact that seeing this man, whoever it was, had clearly lost favour in her eyes.
He lowered his sword. “I will not be part of your games,”
“You were involved in it the second I got poisoned,” Maeve wrote something on the paper in front of her. “Too many things kept happening so I got a little distracted but I had hoped you’d be able to handle that at least. So tell me, which would you rather do? Paperwork or—”
“You have avoided me for days, Isabella,” Amir sounded the sand way he always did. Slightly angry, but there was something else in it. Something akin to need. “You must speak with me. So that I at least explain. Please,”
Adrian felt his irritation return. “Did you not see her talking to me?”
Amir didn’t pay him any attention. “You were about to leave. Go. She does not need you.”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Maeve rose from her chair, her hands moving in the air as her smug smile returned. It was ugly enough to snap them both out of whatever state they were previously in as she said, “Lucien.”
The man who had stayed directly the other idiots glowering at their backs brightened, “My Lady,”
It only took a second for him to appear next to Maeve.
He had looked evil, his eyes set on the other two men like he was only inches away from stabbing them violently in the throat but the second Maeve’s hand moved into his hair, he instantly smiled. “See how well behaved he is? This is why he’s the one who’s chosen to fight for the duel. Not either of you. How can he not be a chosen Vessel when he knows me better than ALL of you?”
“I am forbidden from human traditions.”
“I do not want to go.”
“Excuses!” Maeve raised her hand. “Now, Duke, if you do not wish to be part of my… game, as you claim it is. Then I ask you to be on your merry way, but if yes, then you stay and train Lucien. If you say no to any of this, of course, you can stay away from me because I’d rather not have anything to do with anyone royal anymore. Not after this trick SHE just pulled,”
She took a pause, waiting for him to correct her, for the approval rating to drop, for anything to happen, but Adrian— he stared at her with hate, and contempt, and so many other negative emotions that she could not understand and then he said, “May I speak with you in person after I am done with him?”
Maeve smiled. “You may,”
“Alright.” His eyes flickered to Lucien. “I will not be easy on you.”
It was taking all of Maeve not to burst into an evil grin. Men were far too easy. “I don't expect you to,” Then she turned her attention to Amir, her smile dying. “You come with me,”
Her eyes moved to the other elves, burning with jealousy— jealousy at the fact that they didn’t have to deal with other men, or use their brains. “Do not leave your spots… but you can call for some smoothie. I made some for you. But do not leave that spot. Amir. Come.”