Page 57 of The Iron Hex

“No,” Maeve said as a smirk fell over her round lips. “I was perfectly on time. No need for waiting.”

Rhona needed to get used to the idea that Maeve would be there when Maeve wanted to be there, and that Rhona didn’t have much of a say in the matter. This was why seers had been killed—their ability to interfere, and for it be precisely what was meant to happen, was unparalleled.

“What do you want?” Rhona said gruffly.

“You don’t have to be rude just because you don’t know how to handle that you think I’m pretty,” Maeve said with a wry smile, and Rhona instantly flushed. “Please don’t try to pretendlike you don’t. I don’t need to be able to see visions of the future to tell that you blush every time my hand even hovers near you.”

“I’m n-not sure what you’re talking about,” Rhona stuttered.

“Right,” Maeve said. “Okay, I guess we’re not at that part yet.”

Which part? What was she talking about? Rhona hated this. She preferred it when things were simple, and working with a witch was complicated enough. Never mind that shedidfind Maeve beautiful.

“Let’s move on to more important things,” Rhona choked out as she tried to recover from the discomfort.

“Certainly. How did the discussion with the prisoner go?” Maeve asked, back on track.

Rhona opened her mouth to speak, a single syllable exiting her mouth before Maeve interrupted.

“Don’t ask me how I know that you talked to them already,” she said, touching the tip of Rhona’s nose.

“Lady Maeve, please don’t—”

“Don’t interrupt you? Understood.” Maeve grinned, waiting for Rhona to finish rolling her eyes and speak.

“The Corisians did set the fires. They wanted to try and clear out some of the influential nobility to destabilize us. The thing that interestedmewas the witch.”

“Oh?” Maeve questioned.

“She said there are soldiers and prisoners going missing. I’ve noticed it too. Commander Hugo defected, and then Sir Saoirse defected—”

Maeve gasped.

“What?” Rhona asked.

“Nothing,” Maeve coughed. “Just stubbed my toe.”

Rhona looked down at the ground to see nothing that could have caused Maeve to stub her toe. Maeve was still hiding things from Rhona, and it infuriated her.

“Anyways, between all of the soldiers defecting, and then the witch saying prisoners were going missing... I think something is going on under our noses, on top of the Corisians attacking.”

“Hmm,” Maeve mused as they turned a corner, and she stopped in front of a door. “I have seen shadowy visions of a dark space when I look into your path. It feels close in my visions.”

“What do you see in them?” Rhona asked, pushing down the sick feeling as she realized Maeve was actively looking into Rhona’s future... possibly even daily.

“Nothing yet, just the pathway down. A stone archway with a gilded bull’s head at the peak. I’ve been looking for it but haven’t seen anything like it.”

“Could be a clue,” Rhona exhaled loudly.

“Could also be nothing, the path may change.” Maeve shrugged. “But it doesn’t feel like nothing, you know?”

“I’ll keep an eye out. If I can save prisoners and soldiers... well, that would be good for the Iron Empire.” Rhona nodded to herself. She said it to convince herself that it was okay that she was working with a witch.

Maeve looked up at her, her eyes deep pools of brown as she reached up and tucked a piece of Rhona’s hair behind her ear.

“Does it help you to think you’re helping the Iron Empire and not me?” she asked, her fingers lingering near Rhona’s ear.

“I am helping the Iron Empire,” Rhona sputtered, her heart racing, half believing what she was saying. It was bad that people were disappearing, and it would be good for the people of the Iron Empire to have that mystery figured out. Rhona also worried that the lord general was too focused on the Corisians. She worried he wasn’t seeing the unrest happening within his army, or whoever the Astrans were that worked with Corisia to attack the noble houses. She could help with that. For the Iron Empire... for her future with them. Rhona had no intention of going back to farming, back to the life she’d run from.