You kneel.

"Your family amuses me," you say, "I deeply enjoy the studies of House Merandus." Maven looks up at you, his eyes ceasing their flickering. You smile at him from your kneeling position.

"I don't want to talk about that now, I am here to speak of something else." He informs you. You stand up with a small smile. Maven, once again, finds himself looking around your small shop. Trinkets upon trinkets dangle from your ceilings and sit on shelves. Some objects are wooden; handcrafted by a Welle. Others were metals that were melted into interesting shapes by Calore's.  A place full of history is perfect for a parapsychologist. You study the forms of clairvoyance that sew into the past and legends. In the front of your shop are useless items, a mere mask for what the real stuff in the back is. You have haunted items that manipulate the normal way of human thinking. Items that can provoke telepathy and psychokinesis.

"Humor me," you say with a low voice as you lean closer to him. He professionally takes a step back to give a reasonable amount of space between you. With a smile, you regain your previous posture as you make your way to the backroom. Maven follows you and knows how this usually goes. Maven ducks under hanging dreamcatchers as the roof gets shorter and shorter. The walls crease in, ending in a way any human will have to crawl through. On the other side, Maven can see all of the buckets of dull paint that showed what you were busy with prior to his entrance. The room is a normal size and painted a dull blue. There's a sofa with a wooden coffee table and a small tea set on top. Maven has seen this room, he's seen it before the heavy redecorating you did. Once you close the door, suddenly everything stops. No wind. If you wave your hand there will be no air. Hours are minutes. Nothing is the same. Everything is different. Crop circles form on the carpet as you walk over it. You sit on one side of the couch as you wait for Maven to sit on the other. Maven takes a second to overlook the area.

"You reorganized," he comments. You turn on the electric kettle and start boiling old water. The light sizzling sound quickly came, the water ready in mere seconds due to the room's warped sense of time. Maven sits down as you try to pour the cups.

"I sense an eerie presence around you, my dearest." You say. His eyes glaze over as he glances at his cup. "Has something happened?" You add, leaning over to brush his hair behind his ear. His locks aren't as soft as usual. As your fingers brush his temples you can see an image flash in your head. Mare. Maven knows you received the thought and the feeling. He knows you hate Mare and what she stands for, even as a red yourself. Before Maven can elaborate on the situation with him and Mare you climb on top of him, straddling him with your legs.

"I said to not think about her." You whisper, looking into his eyes. He leans into the couch and relaxes. You and Maven are very familiar with each other and have been for awhile. He'd often come into your shop and you two would hang in the very room you are in now. In public, you two don't even look at each other. You're too scared somebody will notice.

"That's what I am here to discuss." He says. You tilt your head at his words. You click your tongue as you sit back. Maven pulls you closer to him as a response.

"I know you have an object to make my feelings disappear," he adds, "and I know you've been wanting to use it for awhile." His voice is low and quiet, very mature. Like a true king. Without thinking, you kiss him. Very lightly. What he speaks is true. You know exactly what trinket you've been saving for this very moment. Now that the moment has come to you, you don't know if you can truly manipulate the feelings of Maven. What if you do something wrong? When you pull away you get off of him. You walk to your shelves, examining all of the objects. For a while, you pretend you don't know where the trinket is. Wishing Maven would change his mind. But he doesn't, and eventually, you grab it. Its shape is curved in your grip. The light metal changes it's physical shape with the movement of your heartbeat, which is fast. You're immune to its intense pressure but the feeling of its power makes you shake. This should be easy. Just end it, make Maven yours. He'll kill Mare easily. But you can't. Something about this just seems wrong. You believe in human life, letting people feel on their own. That's why you secure these objects, to NOT use.

"I can't," you say. You slam the object back where it was before turning to Maven. He has stood up, confused and frustrated. "What did you say?" He lets out.

"I said no, I'm not going to do it." You argue. This is your decision, it ties into your belief. Even though Mare is the pain in your existence you can't truly do this to Maven. If he disagrees with that, that's fine. At least you know he'll never choose her over you.