Page 100 of Maksym

“In principle.”

“And she’s working a service floor.”

“Yes.”

Grace looked back down.

Maddie leaned toward a seated witch, listening with apparent delight, then threw her head back and laughed. Whatever she said in reply made the witch clap both hands over her mouth. Maddie moved on before attention could turn hungry. Perfect timing. Natural, not trained by the court. She understood people because she liked them until they gave her reason not to.

“That is who Maddie is,” I said. “She insisted on keeping her job here because she loves it.”

Grace’s brows drew together. “No one stopped her?”

I almost smiled. “Several tried.”

“And?”

“And Maddie remains on the floor.”

Grace watched her for another moment. “Good for her.”

The approval came quietly. Stronger for it.

Then I directed Grace’s attention across the bar.

Nikolay stood near one of the black marble pillars, far enough from Maddie not to interfere, close enough that no man at any table could mistake the invisible line around her. At six feet five, broad-shouldered and warm-eyed, my brother had always made size look gentle when he wished. Tonight, he did not bother.

His amber gaze tracked Maddie’s every move. Not discreetly. Not even with the dignity of a man pretending to have other concerns.

His expression was open in a way Nikolay usually controlled before strangers. Hunger, irritation, longing, fear, tenderness, and offended aristocratic confusion all fought for territory across his face. The scholar, the mediator, the brother who remembered ancient etiquette and diplomatic seating preferences from three centuries of Council gatherings, had been reduced to a behemoth watching a Texas wolf shifter serve drinks as if the fate of empires depended on whether she smiled at table seven.

Grace followed my line of sight.

Then went perfectly still.

“That,” she said, “is Nikolay?”

“Yes.”

“He looks like he’s guarding a nuclear launch code.”

“He believes he is being subtle.”

“He is not.”

“No.”

Maddie turned at that moment and looked directly at him.

Even from the VIP level, I saw her expression change. Sweetness vanished. Challenge sparked. She lifted two fingers to her eyes, then pointed at him in unmistakable accusation: I see you watching me.

Nikolay did not move. Maddie rolled her eyes so dramatically a vampire near the bar laughed into his glass.

“He drives her crazy watching her,” I said.

Grace laughed.

Not a careful sound. Not the dry little exhale she used when the world became too absurd to prosecute. A full laugh. Unguarded, bright, startled from her before pain could place a hand over its mouth.