Dyna pinched the corners of her dress and curtsied.
The High King canted his head. “It truly is a pleasure to meet you, my dear, for you must be a wonder to have stirred the favor of my son. At the news of his transgression, I came to see for myself what could have possessed him to do such a thing.” He hesitated before reaching out and cupping her cheek. His eyes slid closed and he smiled. “I see.”
Zev growled. The King was Soul Searching. The Celestial ability to see another’s soul was a rather intimate thing, and he didn’t care for that intrusion on his cousin. Without thinking, he reached for Dyna. The archer immediately released his arrow. Zev tackled her out of the way and braced for the blow.
A drop of blood splashed on his cheek instead. The Watchers drew their blazing swords. Zev looked at the Prince’s hand splayed out above him with the bloody arrow point pierced through his palm. Red rivulets trailed down his pale arm, glistening against the white of his silk robes.
“You were ordered to stand down,” Cassiel hissed through his clenched teeth. He glanced past Zev to Dyna. His gaze flittered over her, checking that she wasn’t harmed.
She stared at the Prince with her mouth gaping. Zev slowly rose to his knees, remaining crouched by her as a precaution.
King Yoel chuckled. “What happened? He moved so rapidly I nearly missed it.”
“Be cautious, sire.” Cassiel grimaced as he jerked the arrow from his palm, tossing it aside. “I’ve found their kind have a tendency for belligerence.”
The Prince dropped his wounded hand to his side. Scarlet trails trickled down his fingers, collecting into a puddle by his feet.Drip, drip, dripechoed in Zev’s ears. The sweet metallic scent of blood flooded his senses.
“Why is no one helping him?” Dyna demanded.
No one cared that Cassiel bled. No one moved to help him, not even his father, but it wasn’t indifference. Before Zev could explain, she rushed to the Prince. She tore the edge of her wool dress and pressed it into his wound. He tried to pull away, but she held firm.
“Please be still. I’ll give you laudanum for the pain and stitch this closed.”
“That is unnecessary. I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
Cassiel’s tight scowl smoothed out, his eyes falling closed as his fingers wrapped around hers. Zev glanced at the others, wondering how they would react to this. But the Celestials watched silently, the High King wearing a slight smile.
This was what the Prince must have meant when he said he proved Dyna’s innocence.
“Prince Cassiel?” She called worriedly. “Are you feeling faint? You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
His eyes sprung open, and he yanked his hand away. “Your concern is needless. I’m no longer bleeding.”
“That’s ridiculous. An arrow went through your—”
Cassiel removed the soaked cloth to reveal he indeed no longer bled. Zev watched in amazement as muscle and skin stitched itself together on an invisible loom until his hand was left without a hint of a scar. The crimson stains on his clothing were the only evidence of the injury.
He knew about the regenerative abilities of the Celestials, but to witness it was nothing short of miraculous.
“God of Urn,” Dyna whispered.
“Forgive the Watchers for their impulsiveness, my dear,” the King said. “We do not receive many visitors around here.”
The captain’s glare trained on the archer. “You spilled the blood of a prince. Others have been exiled for less!”
The archer dropped to his knees before King Yoel, lowering his forehead to the ground. “Forgive me, sire.”
“I’m sure you did not intend to harm my son. However, I said our guests would not be harmed. What value does my word have if it is not honored?” the King glanced at Cassiel. “Though, I would say the slight is yours. Do you wish for his exile?”
He gave him a look of barely restrained annoyance. “I will shear no one of their wings.”
Dyna’s eyes widened, and she looked at Zev. He gave her a subtle nod. Exile called for the removal of the wings. The Celestials could not go out into the human world with them visible. They were a secret race after all.
“My son has shown you grace. May you not take it for granted,” the King said.
The archer bowed again in gratitude.
