she's an anomaly, and they can't help but be infatuated with her.
NO SMUT OR SEXUALIZING ━ if any of the triplets are uncomfortable with this fanfiction, it will be taken down immediately.
matt sturniolo x fem! oc x chris sturniolo (LOVE TRIANGLE)
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𝖝. Until You
EXACTLY THREE AND A HALF hours later, Ondo releases Maeve from her clutches and back into Axel's care. Her back aches from the posture lessons about how to sit, walk, and even sleep (on your back, arms at your sides, always still), but it's nothing compared to the mental exercises the woman put her through. The Silver drilled the rules of court into Maeve's head until it aches with information, filling her with names, protocols, and etiquette. In the last few hours, she received a crash course in anything and everything she's supposed to know. The hierarchy among the High Houses is slowly coming into focus for her, but she's sure she'll manage to mess up something anyway. They only scratched the surface of Protocol, but now Maeve can go to the queen's stupid function with at least some idea of how to act.
The Glass Terrace is relatively close by, only a floor down and a hallway over, so the Deuveux girl doesn't get much time to collect herself before facing Astraea and Valencia again. This time, when she steps through the doorway, she's greeted by the wonderful, invigorating feeling of fresh air. She's outside for the first time since she's become Maeva, but now, with the wind in her lungs and the sun on her face, she feels more like Maeve again. If she closes her eyes, she can pretend none of this ever happened.
But it did.
The Glass Terrace is as ornate as Lady Ondo's classroom was bare, most definitely living up to its name. A glass canopy, supported by clear, artfully cut columns, stretches over them, refracting the sun into a million dancing colors to match the women milling about. It's beautiful in an artificial way, like everything else in the Silver world.
Before Maeve even has a chance to take a breath, a pair of girls steps in front of her. Their smiles are fake and cold, just like their eyes. Judging by the colors of their gowns (dark blue and red on one, solid black with stitches of yellow on the other), they belong to House Lovelace and House Clair. Silks and shadows, she remembers, thinking back to Ondo's lessons on abilities.
"Lady Maeva," they say in unison, bowing stiffly. She does the same, inclining her head the way Lady Ondo showed her.
"I'm Kelina of House Lovelace," the first says, tossing her head proudly. Her movements are lithe and catlike. Silks are quick and quiet, perfectly balanced and agile.
"And I'm Elle of House Clair," the other adds, her voice barely above a whisper. While the Lovelace girl is dark, with deeply tanned skin and black hair, Elle is pale, with glossy blonde locks. The dancing sunlight speckles her skin in a perfect halo, making her look flawless. Shadow, bender of light. "We wanted to welcome you."
But Maeve doesn't think their pointed smiles and narrowed eyes don't look welcoming at all.
"Thank you. That's very kind." She clears her throat, trying to sound normal, and the girls don't miss the action, exchanging glances. "You also participated in Queenstrial?" Maeve says quickly, hoping to distract them from her terrible social graces.
