The took a seat at arm’s length from her. He didn’t like being touched, which she had noticed from the first time they met. Did it have any meaning, or did he simply find her touch repulsive?
A silence settled over them as they watched the petals of fire swivel around the sword. The roots of the flames were the color of cobalt. It didn’t affect the blade, though she felt the tremendous heat. A weapon of divine fire meant to strike down demons. What would it do against humans?
She glanced at the Prince, finding his faraway stare fixed on the flames. The divine firelight was different than the muddled orange glow of a campfire. The white fire lifted all darkness, casting it away. It softened the sharp planes of Cassiel’s face, drawing out the hint of luminance that lingered beneath his skin. For a moment she could almost see how he’d looked as a boy: cherubic, soft eyes, mouth curved with a hint of laughter. She blinked and it vanished.
He caught her staring, and Dyna quickly looked away. “Where do divine weapons come from?”
“I would think the answer obvious.”
Right. Such sacred things were not manmade.
“Divine weapons are calledKados Lezayen,” Cassiel said, the lilting words sending a whoosh of warmth through her. The way it had when King Yoel spoke the God of Urn’s true name.
She tried and failed to repeat it so eloquently.
A slight twitch of Cassiel’s lips gave away his barely reserved amusement. He said it again, slowly sounding each syllable. “Kah-dosh Leh-zah-yen.”
“This is the language of the Celestials?”
“It is the language of the Heavens.”
The revelation left her briefly astounded. “What does it mean?”
“To arm with His divinity. It’s a general translation. The first true divine weapons forged byElyoncontained blue fire. Some had been brought down with the first Seraphim, but they are kept locked away. Too valuable and too powerful in their creation to be wielded in the Mortal Realm.”
Then where did the white fire blades come from?
“We had to make do without them,” Cassiel said, answering her silent question. “When a Celestial child comes of age to train in combat, they choose their weapon, and it will be forged by the Smiths in the blessed fires of—”
He abruptly cut off, and his expression grew guarded. Their conversation flowed so easily he must have been about to reveal another location of the Four Realms. Hermon Ridge—the northern mountain she overheard Cassiel mention to Zev—was one. Perhaps he revealed that to her cousin because of the Accords, knowing Zev could never speak of it. Dyna wasn’t sure how that differed from her royal immunity, but she didn’t press any further. While she knew some of their secrets it was best that she didn’t know all of them.
“Does your sword have a name?” she asked to change the topic. “Every great sword has one.”
“No,” he answered much too quickly. A flush rose to his face.
She smiled mischievously and inched closer to him. “It does! Tell me.”
“No.”
“Why? Is it a secret?”
He turned redder, looking away. This was the most unruffled she had seen him. She waited, silently begging to know what could make him blush that way.
Cassiel peeked at her and rolled his eyes at her grin. He cleared his throat. “Esh Zayin.”
“What does it mean?”
The question hung in the awkward silence as the Prince picked at the cuff of his jacket. Dyna kept still, waiting.
“Fire Sword,” he mumbled so faintly she almost didn’t hear it. At her blank stare, the blush dropped down his neck. “I was given my divine weapon at eight years of age. I was not the most creative sort.”
A giggle slipped out before she stifled it behind her hand. Cassiel shot her a mild glare.
“Well, I like it. A sword befitting of its name.” She smothered another laugh, meaning it only as a gentle tease.
The Prince scratched his head, black wings twitching. The color remained in his cheeks. Unusual of his cool, stiff manner, she found it rather charming that he would be embarrassed over anything.
“What happened to your arm?” he asked suddenly.
