You’re such a great chauffeur

When Leora asked me to take Rhiannon back to her castle, I should've said no. Should've handed her off to literally anyone else.

Why me? Why not one of the demon queen's fancy chauffeurs? They probably had an entire fleet of limousines equipped with wine coolers and seats more comfortable than anything I could ever afford.

But no. Here I was, playing chauffeur to demon royalty in my very human car, which smelled faintly of coffee, burnt toast, and a faint tinge of something I couldn't quite place but probably didn't want to identify.

Honestly, this felt like a setup. Leora must've been sitting back with a glass of wine, plotting ways to make my life miserable.

She probably thought it was hilarious to shove me into situations that would test my patience and my professionalism. Oh, Maeve, you're so good at following the rules—let's see how far we can push you before you snap.