Once they were a decent distance from guests and court and council members, Maeve turned on him in the corner. She kept her face calm, as there were still nearby eyes.
“You need to take Maxius and go.”
Sensing the panic washing over her, he didn’t hesitate.
His hands captured her face. “Maeve,” he said, no trace of frustration in his voice. His voice was reminiscent of when she had her episodes. “Nothing is wrong. Maxius has been invited here as a great honor on the day I am to receive a promotion.”
“No,” she hissed. “That is not why we are here. You do not understand.”
Alphard’s eyes locked on something behind her. His shoulder fell slightly, and Maeve was certain it was his beloved red head, Victoria, that caught his eye.
“Listen to me,” she snapped, electric Magic zapping at her knuckles.
Alphard’s eyes looked down at her side as his brows pulled together.
“Something is wrong—”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the hall. They turned one corner, and he looked down at her.
“Is this about Victoria?” he asked hotly.
“What?” she replied, her face scrunching in confusion. “No. This is about Maxius and you and me and. . .everything.” Words poured from her, fearful her chance to speak would be cut short. He had to hear it from her. Not from Mal. “I can see so much now. Every second, I see more and more like. . . like this spell is ripping apart against my will.”
“Alright,” he said hesitantly. “What do you see?”
Tell him Maxius isn’t his.
“I’ve altered things in our minds,” she replied. “Everyone’s minds.”
Alphard nearly laughed, but just as quickly as his expression shifted to one of disbelief, he turned serious.
“What?” she asked.
Alphard shook his head. “No. No,” he reasoned with himself. “You couldn’t do that. There’s no way. That’s just, just, unheard of.”
It was clear something unsaid ran through his mind, and he wrestled with the thought.
Maeve urged him further. “I have to confess something because I’m concerned what hearing it from someone else will do. I do not think we are here as honored guests. I think Mal knows it was me who did this.”
She had to tell him; she had to before Mal did. This Mal, the one entranced by his white queen, would not be merciful or kind in his deliverance. She’d felt the possessive way Mal’s Magic reached for and desired Maxius’ for weeks now.
Fear sank into Alphard’s expression. Maeve pushed forward, even though the words that needed to be voiced confirmed she had deceived Alphard.
“Maxius is his.”
Alphard held his hand up, his eyes moving rapidly. He sighed, closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t have even let you get this far into this delusion. I keep telling Astrea you aren’t okay and you need the potions back—”
Maeve didn’t think twice. She didn’t hesitate. She dove into his mind, breaking through his Pureblood mental shields with far too much ease, and showed him just how real her words were. His eyes flooded white.
She showed him the memories she’d collected so far of Maxius’ birth, of Mal as his father. Memories she hadn’t let herself enjoy. Not yet. Maybe not ever. His mind remained pliant under her grip.
And then she showed him the one thing she’d come to see clearly that could make him snap. She showed him the night she appeared on his doorstep, bruised and frightened, just before he was meant to marry Victoria.
She only let the memory play out once, and then she withdrew from his mind. Alphard’s eyes opened and latched onto hers. His chest rose and fell as his expression became vacant.
They didn’t have much time. She couldn’t allow him moments of digestion.
“Alphard,” she said gently.
