𝖝𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎. Just Maeve

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𝖝𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎

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𝖝𝖝𝖎𝖎𝖎. Just Maeve


Maeve


THE BATHWATER swirls brown and red. Dirt and blood. Elise Deuveux has drained the water twice, and still she keeps finding more in her daughter's hair. At least the healer on the jet took care of Maeve's fresh wounds, so she can enjoy the soapy heat without any more pain. Emira perches on a stool by the edge of the tub, her spine straight in the stiff posture she perfected over the years. Either she's gotten prettier, or six months dulled Maeve's memory of her little sister's face: straight nose, full lips, and sparkling, dark eyes. Their mother's eyes that all the Deuveux children share. The hand that Maeve broke with her foolish mistakes is now smooth, the bones reset. No evidence of Emira's mangled body part, shattered by the butt of a Security officer's gun.

"Amelia," Emira explains gently, flexing her fingers.

"She did a good job," Maeve tells her. "With Dad, too."

"That took a whole week, you know. Regrowing everything from the thigh down. And he's still getting used to it. But it didn't hurt as much as this." Emira flexes her fingers once more, grinning. "You know she had to re-break these two?" She wiggles her index and middle fingers. "Used a hammer. Hurt like hell."

"Emira Deuveux, your language is appalling," Maeve says, giggling as she splashes water at her sister's feet. The fifteen-year-old swears again, drawing her toes away.

"Blame the Guard. Seems they spend all their time cursing and asking for more flags." Sounds about right. Not one to be outdone, Emira reaches into the tub and flicks water at Maeve.

Their mother tuts at the both of them. She tries to look stern, and fails horribly. "None of that, you two."

A fuzzy white towel snaps between her hands, held out. As much as Maeve wants to spend another hour soaking in soothing hot water, she wants to get back downstairs much more.

The water sloshes around her as she stands to and steps out of the bath, curling into the towel. Emira's smile falters a little. Maeve's scars all along her back are now clear as day, pearly bits of white flesh against tanner skin. Even Elise glances away, giving her daughter a moment to wrap the towel a bit better, hiding the brand on her collarbone.

Maeve focuses on the bathroom instead of their shamed faces. It isn't as fine as the one she had in Archeon, but the lack of Silent Stone more than makes up for it.

Emira leads Maeve out and into the hall, while their mother follows, drying her eldest daughter's hair with another soft towel. They show Maeve into a powder-blue bedroom with two fluffy beds. It's small but more than suitable. She would take a dirt floor over the most sumptuous chamber in Chris' palace. Elise is quick to give Maeve a pair of cotton pajamas, not to mention socks and a soft shawl.

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