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ii. a proposition
SEVIKA HATED PEOPLE WHO WERE UNLOYAL. If you swore loyalty to Piltover or some other cause she didn't agree with, she could at least respect that. A decision was a decision, even if it was the wrong one. But neutrality? Neutrality was a coward's refuge, a refusal to stand for anything. And Maeve - god Maeve - Maeve was neutrality incarnate.
That's why she hated her. Or so she told herself.
Maeve had a way of weaving between Piltover and Zaun like a ghost, untouchable by allegiances or consequences. Her allegiance was to herself, and somehow, it worked. The woman could walk into the dirtiest bar in the Undercity or the cleanest ballroom in Piltover and leave both places unscathed. Immaculate, even. Her stupid purple hair never out of place, not even after a fight. Her stupidly (gorgeous) face unscratched and her signature smirk leaving with her.
And Sevika hated it. Hated the way Maeve made it all look so easy.
Sevika followed her into Silco's office now, the click of Maeve's boots echoing against the floor. That damned hair swayed with every step, like it knew it had an audience. Sevika stepped to the side, content to watch from the shadows as Maeve sauntered up to Silco's desk, the confidence in her stride radiating through the room.
Silco glanced up, his pen pausing mid-word. A thin smile spread across his face. "I must admit, Maeve, I didn't expect you to listen and come up here."
Maeve smirked, leaning casually against the desk, her posture relaxed but the air around her still crackling with sharpness. "I'm full of surprises. What do you want, Silco? Let's not waste time. I've got things to do."
Sevika rolled her eyes at the dismissive tone, but Silco seemed unfazed. He straightened in his chair, sliding a file across the desk toward Maeve, his movements deliberate.
"I have a job for you. One worth 100,000 gold coins."
Sevika's stomach dropped at the number. 100,000 gold? Silco's finances were notoriously tight—he couldn't just pull that amount out of nowhere. Her gaze flicked to Maeve, watching closely for any reaction. Maeve froze for just a fraction of a second, the only sign that this might be more than just another job. Then she picked up the file, her expression unreadable.
"What's the catch, old friend?" Maeve asked, her voice sharp, but a hint of something darker lurking beneath it.
"Open it and see."
Maeve flipped open the file, her eyes scanning the contents quickly. Her expression didn't change, but Sevika could tell something had shifted. The assassin paused for just a moment before speaking aloud.
"Caitlyn Kiramman," Maeve said, her voice carrying an edge of disbelief. She let out a humorless laugh, tossing the file back onto the desk. "A Kiramman? You really have lost it, Silco. Killing her is a suicide mission."
