My Taboo Harem!

Perhaps.

The Goddess, naturally, surpassed her; that woman was unfair beautiful and comparing most beauties to her was less judgment and more cruelty to the other party.

Maya knew Evy. So did the others. Mostly the young generation, of course. The princesses knew her. Noor and Soraya had both looked surprised when they saw her enter earlier. Even Courtney, who had spent the night pretending nothing impressed her, had needed a second look.

Because why was Evy here? How did someone like her get invited to Sienna’s birthday?

No one knew.

Maya had a tingling little inkling; she knew why the celebrity little stacker had come and for whom.

Maya saw it all but said nothing.

She shook her head gently. "No. I was talking to myself."

Evy nodded, then pointed with absolutely no subtlety toward Dravenna:

"Why is that beautiful woman looking at you?"

Maya’s smile deepened.

’Feigned innocence? How adorable.’

Evy said it like asking about the weather while pointing directly at a Dragoness currently weighing mysteries across the room like she was deciding which family tree needed pruning. Celebrity habits, perhaps.

Maya looked toward Dravenna again.

"There is animosity there," she said softly.

"Between you and her?"

"Yes."

"Fun."

"It is not fun."

Evy’s eyes brightened.

Maya glanced at her. "You are lying with your face."

"I am an actress and artist, I literally get paid to lie."

"That explains the crimes."

Evy smiled.

Across the room, Dravenna’s gaze had not softened.

***

As far as Dravenna was concerned, Maya had appeared out of nowhere at the academy like a white chess piece placed on a board that already had too many queens. A mysterious girl with a mysterious family.

Powerful. Undeniably so. Infuriatingly.

And worse, Maya had moved too close to Phei without offering Dravenna the courtesy of making her intentions obvious. There were few things an old schemer disliked more than another old schemer refusing to file paperwork.

Very rude, almost uncivilized.

But so far, Maya had done nothing untoward to Phei. If anything, she had helped. She had orchestrated Kyle’s arrest in a way that gave Phei the opening to mark the Vampire Progenitor. A useful little contribution. One might even call it generous, if one had no survival instincts and enjoyed trusting convenient assistance from mysterious girls with moonlit smiles.

But help was not the same as innocence. Dravenna knew that and Maya knew Dravenna knew.

How pleasant.

The issue was not only Kyle.

Maya’s moves had begun diverting the Madam’s plans. She had also stepped in the way of Dravenna’s original arrangement for Selene’s mother... Dravenna had planned something after she left the hospital, something careful and long prepared. She had been waiting for Mother to be discharged from the hospital so she could give it to Phei at exactly the right moment, with exactly the right emotional weight — because old dragons and Ashfords apparently treated kindness like a military campaign.

Then Maya happened.

A quick mansion she helped Phei scout so quickly, new cars, security, comfort and a life restored with breathtaking speed.

The gesture had been nice. Beautiful, even.

Also deeply inconvenient.

Dravenna had planned her own gift, and Maya had cut across it with the elegance of a girl who did not bother asking permission from anyone’s chessboard.

So no, Maya was not welcome in the Empress’s books nor Dravenna’s.

But the truth was, Maya did not really care. Books could be rewritten. Shelves could lose teeth. People who thought their plans were immaculate often hated the first mysterious piece — especially when that piece smiled at them across a crowded room like it already knew where all the other pieces would fall.

Dravenna finally moved toward Ashworth again, who stood not far from her with that old-man glass of wine and the expression of someone quietly enjoying a room full of disaster while pretending to be above it.

Dravenna said something to him, too low for most to hear.

Maya heard anyway:

"I do not like her at all," Dravenna said. "She smells of mystery and trouble."

At the same time, Evy, standing beside Maya, said cheerfully, "I do not like her at all. She smells like mystery, being a stuck-up and trouble."

Maya blinked then smiled.

The timing was almost offensive.

Across the room, Ashworth chuckled, he glanced between Dravenna and Maya, amusement wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "You know your look alone was enough without the words, right?"

Dravenna did not take her eyes off Maya: "Scarlett."

Ashworth’s amusement thinned.

Dravenna’s gaze sharpened. "I think I have heard that name in the World of Powers."

"You are wrong," Ashworth said.

That made her finally look at him.

His voice lowered: "Not in the World of Powers."

Dravenna went still.

Ashworth’s eyes moved back to Maya.

"The Scarlett are that family."

For the first time that night, Dravenna’s expression truly changed; her jade eyes widened.

Only slightly, but for Dravenna Ashford, that was equivalent to a lesser woman dropping her glass, screaming, and asking several gods for administrative clarification.

Maya watched from across the room. Still smiling.

She could almost hear the sound of Dravenna’s careful plans cracking — just a hairline fracture for now, but fractures had a way of spreading when left unattended.

Evy leaned closer and whispered, "That looked important."

"It was."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No."

"Rude."

"Yes."

Evy sighed. "You girls are terrible conversationalists."

Maya’s smile remained soft.

Dravenna was still staring. Ashworth had gone quiet.

The penthouse reception continued around them, drunk on wine, beauty, gossip, and the absence of Phei and Sienna. Most of them did not feel the new thread pulling tight across the room. They did not see how one name had shifted the air.

They did not understand that another card had just been turned face-up on the table.

Scarlett.

Maya lifted her untouched glass slightly toward Dravenna for a tiny toast. Polite. Harmless.

Awful.

Dravenna did not return it.

Ah~ how very like old monsters — to recognize another one only after it had already smiled at them.