The tragedy-tinged New Year swept all normalcy away for Maya. Like some of her peers, she had been cutting back on her public appearances of late, and her social media was full of banal recycled content and closely-cropped selfies that were stripped almost entirely of any meaning: there were no more “Come with me to the Juniperus Gala!” mini-vlogs, no more elegant pictures in the Veradian snow or like-fishing selfies with fellow celebrities, and her presence at events was starting to go from “surprisingly absent” to “expectedly declined.” On top of that, Kaspar’s passing had affected her more than she expected it to, but it only stoked the fires of hate she harboured for the Kaudians - which had spurred an entirely unexpected and unholy alliance with
Belle of all people, as they worked together via correspondence to gather support for a war.
Additionally, despite their (frequent) disagreements, Maya was stuck to Edmund like glue. Or perhaps, more aptly, she kept him stuck to
her - she had never really gone anywhere without him before, but he often took a back seat, managing the whole of her security detail. Like at Giles’ manor, he would usually be in the venue, but maybe not in the room. But she would not make that mistake again: Now, Maya barely let him turn a corner out of her sight. His bedroom in Veradis Castle was adjoined hers by a door that was never locked, and he joined her no matter where she went; to the dining room, in the gardens, never more than a few hurried steps away and
always in view. Maya very much preferred her Templar to be seen and not heard, which Edmund was usually happy to oblige, but their constant proximity had provoked more than a few tizzes in the past few months.
But not all changes were bad. Her new indefinite residence in Veradis Castle was proving very much to Maya’s liking. Royal accommodations were quite to her taste, especially since everyone from the scullery maids to the Prince himself bent over backwards at her every whim. Her rapport with the staff and the royal family was made even better by Maya’s magnanimous generosity with blessings; after blessing the castle and Prince Rowan’s infirmary (made even more meaningful by having received treatment there), she gave them out like candy to anyone who asked, and before long she regularly had a line forming at her apartment door full of staff members asking for blessings and intercessory prayers. Maya was happy to oblige; the staff adored her, and that translated into excellent service.
She even wooed Prince Rowan himself - chastely, of course. The two had developed a habit of taking afternoon tea together, the Prince initially eager to please his holy guest, and later joining with genuine interest. Sometimes, his daughter Rosemary would join them, wandering around the parlor and asking endless questions. Most recently, the two had been fascinated to hear Maya explain the movement of heavenly bodies and how their paths around the sun could be predicted over the course of thousands of years. If Maya was being perfectly honest (which was rare) she was half-pleased for the chance to delve into her old area of expertise again, even if it meant putting up with an irritatingly persisted six-year-old.
Needless to say, she was in no rush to depart from Veradis Castle, and certainly not for a summons from Prince Lucas. She had deliberately procrastinated her reply to his letter, but ultimately could not escape it. Functions with politicians and celebrities could be handwaved away without much fuss (although not, perhaps, for much longer) but skipping out on her duties as a Scion would threaten to chip her public image more than Maya could tolerate. So, with no small amount of complaining, Maya eventually packed her bags, Edmund, and a small army of security and made the trek to Lucas-Land.
Only to be barred from entry at the door.
Or, her security detail at least - all of them except Edmund. It was
highly insulting, and Maya didn’t trust Lucas’ little magic tricks as far as she could spit to protect her, but she avoided throwing up too much of a fuss; she had no interest in appearing
afraid, after all. So it was mostly just herself she grumbled to, under a flawless mask of appreciative smiles, until she finally made it into the interior of Lucas’ manor. She was lead to the dining room in a much fouler mood than she’d set out in - no small feat, considering her reluctance even to come - and to make matters worse, the first person her eyes fell on was
Belle.
Despite their prolonged cooperation of late, it had all been through letters, and Maya still had a borderline instinctual reaction to seeing her in the flesh, not unlike looking upon a fly that had landed in her food. She almost had to swallow the feeling as she joined the other Scions, reminding herself inwardly that the enemy of her enemy was her friend - for now.
There was also the not-insignificant benefit that she walked in just as Sir Tyler was taking a dig at her.
Stepping around Scion Hollyhock - brandishing a pig’s leg, apparently - Maya made her way to the table and took her seat, taking a second to arrange her skirt. She was dressed for Estora’s warm climate in a midnight blue maxi dress, the dark chiffon layers contrasting starkly with the fairness of her skin and the brightness outside. She removed her matching wide-brimmed hat to reveal the subtle sparkle of dark gems cast through her hair.
A similar glimmer came upon her wine-coloured eyes, but darker; less beautiful, more dangerous.
“Our casus belli was an open attack on the Goddess’ Chosen,” she added to Tyler’s remark,
“and bloodshed has always been a perfectly acceptable price for defending Her honour. Preferably less of ours, and more of theirs.”