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THE AGENT STOOD in the middle of the obsidian rock room, looking around in masked awe. He observed the draconic decals lining the walls, the roaring creatures embracing the mantle where a scarlet fire was burning and filling the air with a strange energy that intensified as Theadora Valaryen sat down on the throne-like chair with Matthew Murdock next to her and Daaryo Dahal on her right side. Even if it wasn't specified whether or not she could bring protection, no one could convince Daaryo not to come. His gaze was fixed on Agent Cleary with such a piercing fire, it could've cut him in half. There wasn't a need for added security, informed the agent over the phone. Legally, they couldn't charge her due to her sovereign status but their reasoning for this meeting made a chill run down Thea's spine.
They just wanted to talk.
Agent Cleary turned around to face the Maegya who kept her posture straight and fearless on the armchair that she turned into a throne-like seat. The cold stone was polished despite her being the only one to sit on it and its arms were decorated with the carved heads of snarling dragons. She ran the tip of her index finger over a small notch in the armrest. His eyes flitted to the three-headed dragon triskelion spray-painted behind her head like a Banksy.
"Who's your contractor?" asked Agent Cleary in a complacent way. "I've been meaning to get a remodel for my place."
"You live alone?" Thea guessed, a playful smile toying on her lips. She ducked her head slightly as Matt turned to the sound of her voice and shook his head slowly.
The agent regarded her with a prim frown. The time for humor had soured (for him, at least) and he sauntered over in front of them. There was smug confidence in the way he brandished a large plastic baggie sealed with one thing inside that made Thea's heart wrench.
Thor's journal and Tony's file.
"This was discovered in your room during our search," he explained, keeping the bag in the air and the other hand on his hip. "What we found inside was... interesting."
He didn't have to tell her. Thea had read over that journal more times than she could count and each word had burned into her brain, becoming so familiar she could recite it in her sleep. Now, that journal was out for people to read and tear apart.
Thea had been a ghost story, separated from her family's doom and even from the feats of Illyris. She dipped into each life as it served her but now the veil had lifted. She wondered just how intricately Cleary and his team had combed through her apartment. Had they looked under her mattress, her dresser drawers, through every page of every book on her desk? Did they sweep through the old parrot cage she kept in her closet when the dragons were babies? That search warrant must've been a free-for-all and suddenly the privacy she had cherished for her entire life was stolen away from her, leaving her to the vultures.
