“Answer me this at least,” she began. “Is saving Mal part of your plan?”
“No,” he answered honestly, watching his words sting her. “But I know it’s part of yours. So if we are to becomeallies, then I suppose that makes it part ofourplan.”
She shook her head. “None of this is his fault.”
“That is a dangerous delusion at best,” he argued back.
“I was the one who released her.”
“I was there.”
“Then you know I am to blame. I started this.”
“This began,” he said in a correcting tone, “centuries ago.”
“Well, it didn’t for me,” she snapped.
“Damn. How could I forget just how center-minded you are?”
“Me? That’s rich considering you stole my spell and went into hiding with it.”
“I prefer to think of it as self-preservation, and I did not run for merely my preservation.”
“Nor did I. And that’s a shit excuse, and you know it. You handed over your army, your precious and sacred Warriors, to two of the most powerful Magicals because you still feel as though you are owed me.”
Reeve looked up at the ceiling, fighting a scowl, and chose his words carefully in response to such a ridiculous statement. “Why does everyone call you clever?”
Maeve stood from the table, her chair scraping backwards across the shimmering stone floor. He could see it on her face—fury raced through her with nowhere to go. No escape from her fingertips as she was so used to resorting to.
“Say it,” said Reeve, his eyes locked on hers, giving her permission to release her anger.
“I fucking hate you,” she whispered without hesitation.
Reeve nodded. “Anything else?”
“I think that about sums it up.”
Reeve watched her for a moment and then nodded. “Good. Now, sit down.”
Maeve’s breathing kicked audibly at the command.
“You agreed to one thing, Maeve,” said Reeve, holding up a single finger. “I know you to be a woman of your word. And you have not actually eaten like you agreed to.”
She stood a moment longer, each of her breaths slower and more controlled than the last.
“You know about my mother,” she said. Not a question. A statement. “When will I have those answers?”
Such an unanswerable question from the beautiful obstacle who stood before him. If he could have answered it, he would have. If it would buy her trust, he’d have told her everything.
But there was Magic holding Reeve’s tongue that didn’t negotiate.
Reeve smiled in a bitter way. “If only it were that easy.”
“All Magic is breakable.”
“At a great cost,” he agreed.
“I am not afraid of the cost,” she replied, with her chin held high.
