“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” I whispered.
Bringing him into this would only spark more questions, more arguments, and we had too much to work out between us as it was. We’d said no more secrets, but Malakai had enough on his shoulders without me making it worse.
Hurt flashing behind his eyes, he left. I banished the ache in my Bind and stormed across the foyer into my office. A fire flared to life, flames reflecting orange and yellow against the white marble mantel.
“Your timing is truly horrendous.”
“Your manners have certainly seen better days,” Damien observed, following me.
“I’m very sorry, most honored Prime Warrior.” I bent in a mocking curtsey, but there was little heat to our banter. “A lot has changed since we first met. I fear I have become a new woman, and perhaps the grace has become selective.”
He tilted his head, the most human gesture I’d ever seen of him. “Why do you fear that?”
I pondered his question. “I don’t fear the woman I have become. She has endured more than I thought possible. But I fear the things that shaped her and what she has yet to do.” Because I didn’t know where this path would lead, but every day, the world was slowly caving in on me.
Damien’s eyes flashed with an unnamed emotion. “Do not fear what is beyond your control.”
The Angel floated to the shelves, plucking a book at random. It was one I hadn’t even read yet, a tale about ancient trials that seemed fascinating.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” I snatched the volume from his hands and tucked it back into place, but his eyes lingered on the green spine.
“It was my home first if you recall.” His light spilled around the room as he floated to the window, illuminating the corners and nooks like they were made for it. He was far more vibrant than the first time we met, even more so than when we spoke outside the mountains just weeks ago.
“The palace has passed through many hands since your time.” I leaned against the mantel’s cool surface and fixed him with a stare.
“Never forget the one who built it, though. Never forget where you came from.” An echo of something I couldn’t name flashed across his sculpted features.
I uncrossed my arms, walking closer and propping myself on the couch. “Do you miss it?”
Damien was silent. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer me. Then, he whispered, “More than you know.”
It was a sentiment meant more for the night stretching beyond the peaks than it was for me, but I tucked it away. Damien and I may joke, I may push him, but an understanding rested between us.
“Cherish your time here, Chosen Child.”
The name stiffened my spine. “You were such lovely company until you called me that.”
He chuckled. “You were such lovely company when you were more respectful.”
“Oh, dear Damien, don’t you know I’m made of fire and jaggededges?” The Angel’s lips clamped together at the claim. “Will you ever explain why you call me that?”
“In time.” There was a hollowness to his eyes I hadn’t noticed the last time we’d spoken, a preoccupation worrying his purple irises.
“I painted those, you know?” He gestured to the mural decorating the ceiling, one of pink flowers spilling down long branches, a lone person beneath, stringed instrument in hand. From down here, it was hard to make out any more detail than that, the colors fading over the centuries.
I could picture it, though. The Angel, alive and mortal as any warrior, spending his days in this empty palace. Building our city from the ground up and leaving the tales of his life to look down on future generations.
His melancholy reached out to me, but though I recognized it, I also saw the reluctance. Those few statements had been enough of an ache to share. So instead of prodding his past, I softened my voice. “They’re lovely. Now, do you have a cryptic message, or shall I ask questions first?”
“Questions?”
“Last time you visited, you left with the confession that I carried a curse.” My fingers scratched at the black scars on my wrist. “You implied it was deadly. My previous affliction was false.”You were never at risk of suffering fromthatCurse. Those words had plagued my waking and sleeping hours ever since. “I know this has to do with Annellius Alabath.”
His flustered blink was barely perceptible. “You have learned more about Annellius?”
Satisfaction spread through me because until this moment, it had remained a theory. I recounted the tale my father had told me, barely having finished when Damien visibly swelled, became that ancient being I’d first met, consuming all space and sound.
He spoke in that archaic voice, dripping with power.
