Finally turning around, Cobra sat up and stared at Macbeth, who grimaced. "You don't have to keep groveling. I get it now."
"You…'get it'? Macbeth replied.
"Yeah…should have seen this from the beginning," he said. Some oddities from yesterday started to fall into place. "You ratted me out to Mirajane, didn't you?"
Macbeth froze. It wasn't often Cobra witnessed the former dark guild mage's look of pure terror. Normally, it would have been much more amusing, but he found himself lacking the energy to care. "W-Why do you say that?"
"It makes sense the more I think about it," he said. "The reason she wanted me in that booth is because she knew how my magic worked. But that isn't common knowledge. I kept wondering how she could possibly know, but it was actually fairly simple. Someone told her about it. And only a few people could share about it in the first place. One of them being you.
"That, and you knew all about the proposal from the beginning, egging me on to join without even inquiring about the proposition. You were aware of the details even before I was."
Cobra watched Macbeth hang on every word. "That was because, for whatever reason, you gave up that information to her. That's why you were so scared of her when we met yesterday. You were afraid you'd be ratted out and I'd know where she got the tip. "
As he spoke, Cobra's eye bored into Macbeth. He watched as his body stayed tense throughout his speech…then without warning, deflated. "Well, I suppose that secret's out," he said.
Normally, that admittance would have satisfied Cobra. But something in Macbeth's tone of voice sounded…off. There was an edge of frustration, an annoyance related to being found out, even a hint of fear. All these emotions, and yet, underneath it all, he could swear there was an undercurrent of…relief. One that played like an off-key note that sounded all the louder for it.