Once Rowena’s gone, I refocus on Maxon. “Now, what are our rules for your powers?”
His little voice is barely a whisper. “Ask Mommy and Daddy first.”
“That’s right,” says Lincoln. “And you didn’t ask us, twice. First in your room, and now, in this hallway.”
Maxon blinks innocently. “But you wanted to know what happened.”
“You could’ve used your words to explain,” I state firmly. “You broke the rules, so you’ll have extra chores to do today.”
Maxon puffs out his lower lip. “But she broke your rules first.”
As if on cue, Lincoln’s mother Octavia appears from around a gilded corner. She steps along at a brisk pace, her lithe frame wrapped in a floor-length black robe. Her wavy brown hair hangs long and loose over her shoulders. As always, the Queen Emeritus looks petite, serene and absolutely lethal. Octavia used to be a warrior, and a predatory aura still follows her.
Maxon jumps up and down. “Grandmother!” He says her name with his little-kid accent, so it comes out more as Gran-mudder. Love it.
Octavia kneels down, opening her arms wide. “Come here, my boy.”
Maxon races down the hallway and crashes into Octavia’s arms. They hug for a long moment before Octavia leans back, getting a good look at her grandson’s face. “What’s this I hear about your new nanny quitting?”
Lincoln and I share a look of faux-surprise. Octavia always knows everything that happens in Arx Hall within two minutes tops, thanks to the servants on her secret payroll who are experts at lurking around corners and listening at doorways. Whenever something juicy takes place, they feed information back to her through a network of back hall whisperers. I thought about breaking up her system, but I benefit from it too, sometimes. Besides, we only live here six months out of the year. When we’re in Purgatory, Mom and Dad are so busy as President and First Guy, they pretty much stay out of our way.
Maxon’s little mouth pulls down into a scowl. “She was terrible to me, Grandmother. She wouldn’t let me read your new book or anything.”
“Ah,” says Octavia sagely. “But you shouldn’t have hit her with lightning, now, should you?”
Wow, she found out about the lightning strike, too. Extra impressive.
“I only hit her a little bit,” explains Maxon. “Now, I’ve got extra chores.”
“And some nasty ones too, I should think.” Octavia taps her cheek dramatically, as if a thought were just occurring to her. However, Octavia being Octavia, I’m sure this thought is why she headed over to our wing of Arx Hall in the first place. “How about you come with me to the stables today? It’s Saturday, so you’ve no tutoring, right?”
Maxon nods vigorously.
“Your chores can be tending to the horses. After that, you and I can go for a ride.”
Maxon wraps his arms tightly around Octavia’s neck. “Chores with Grandmother. Yay! And then Pop-Pops comes for my battle training tomorrow. Double-yay!”
“Your grandfather’s coming into Antrum to attend the anointing of the new Earl of Acca,” I explain. “It’s not all about you and your battle training.”
Actually, it is all about Maxon. Dad has a mega-playdate-slash-mock-battle arranged with Maxon and all his little prince buddies. My father could give a crap about the new Earl; it’s just a good excuse to sneak away from Purgatory while Mom’s stuck in a convention. Still, Maxon doesn’t need to think the world totally revolves around him. Only mostly.
“What do you say?” Octavia turns to me and Lincoln. “Does cleaning the stables count as an acceptable punishment? I’ll oversee everything to ensure the servants don’t let him slack.”
“That’s fine,” says Lincoln.
“Agreed,” I add.
“Excellent, I’ll have him back by noon.” Octavia rises to stand and Maxon does his ‘little monkey’ routine, wrapping his legs around Octavia’s waist so she has to carry him, tummy to tummy. She hugs him close and smiles.
“You’re my sweetest boy, Maxon.”
Lincoln’s eyes open wide in mock-shock. “What about me?”
“You’re a close second,” says Octavia with a smirk.
Maxon snuggles into Octavia’s shoulder for another hug, and he uses the opportunity to peep over at Lincoln and me, his shit-eating grin once again firmly in place. Somehow Maxon’s trouble with Rowena turned into Grandmother, horses and happy time. What a little player.
Octavia says Maxon has ‘natural political acumen’ that will make him a great king some day. I think Maxon could grow two heads and she’d say that’ll make him a great king one day. Octavia is tough as nails until you wheedle your way into her heart. After that, you could do pretty much anything and she’ll make an excuse for you. Connor’s living proof of that. Classic example: the fact that he’s gone all the time? Octavia says he’s merely adventurous in his retirement. Or the way he treats Maxon like my kid’s contagious? Connor doesn’t want to force himself on his grandson.