Page 75 of Maksym
“Not to tonight’s foundation.”
“Or you do not want me overloaded.”
“Both can be true.”
“Fine,” she said at last, and typed: Southern / Western wolf kings — identify before hearing if relevant.
Remy gave a soft, approving hum from the chair. “She does not leave loose ends.”
“No,” I said. “She does not.”
“Again, she is right here.”
There was a slight smile in her tone.
I moved on.
“Four major witch covens hold seats,” I said. “They do not rule all witches, as they are notoriously difficult to organize, which I say with affection and extensive evidence.”
Remy turned a page at last. “Say it with caution, too.”
“With caution,” I amended.
Grace’s mouth twitched as she typed: Four major covens. Not universal witch governance. Internal fragmentation?
Remy straightened in her chair. “They try to make all things sound ancient and sacred. Sometimes it is. Mostly it is politics with better candles.”
Grace typed that sentence almost verbatim.
Remy smiled, then added, “Also, none of the four are anywhere near my level of power.”
She said it the way another woman might announce that the weather had turned cool.
Grace’s fingers stilled again. She looked from Remy to me. I said nothing.
Grace looked back at Remy. “That was not a metaphor.”
“No, baby. That was a fact.”
“Are they aware of this fact?”
“Painfully.”
“Do they resent it?”
“They pretend they don’t. I know better.”
Grace typed: Remy > major covens. Covens resent. Do not mention unless tactically useful.
Remy laughed, low and pleased. “Oh, we are going to have fun.”
“We are preparing for Council,” I said.
“That’s what I said.”
Grace kept typing, but her mouth betrayed her. Not a smile, exactly. An almost-smile. The room had collected several of those since she woke, and each one felt like something stolen back from the dark.
“The Angel King also holds a seat,” I continued. “Archon Seraphael. His authority is not territorial in the same way. Angels operate under different hierarchies, though on earth, his power is unmatched among them.”
