Fiza nodded in confirmation.
“Sir … she went to visit her parents while we were gone. I eavesdropped. I knew I shouldn’t have,” Fiza said, looking at the floor.
“Yes, yes, what is it?”
“It’s just—they were talking so loudly. Her mother offered for her to return to her family's house.”
“Oh, did she? Rich, considering how they tried to force her to marry that bore?”
“Master, forgive me, but didn’t you compel her father to arrange her with the duke, knowing it would make her more vulnerable to accepting your offer?”
“If you would like to keep your tongue, I suggest you hold it,” he snarled. “Talk of Duke Howard speaking to Elizabeth’s father for her hand was already known. I simply buzzed in his ear.”
He continued, “Who would she stay with in Rhodea? She is prideful, my Elizabeth. I do not think she would return to her parents’ estate.” He said the words fondly. Her stubbornness and pride were the only flaws that marred her perfect character. Sins that he admired.
He would find her. There would be no other for Elizabeth. No mortal man could love such a vixen, and he would suffer a thousand deaths before he let her become lovers with that bastard angel. He would find her, and he would return with her to his side.
Iago piped up, “The only person she writes to often is Lady Charlotte.”
A trail at last.
***
Caspian took Asmodeus aside and explained the situation. Asmodeus frustratingly pointed out that mortals would have to travel by carriage, and it would take her at least a few days to return to Briarton. If they left now, they would almost certainly get there before she did, and the trip would be useless.
Irritated, he waited four long days, and Asmodeus greeted him with a cheerful wave on the fourth. He strapped a small leather backpack over his wings and offered him a second one.
“Snacks, brother,” Asmodeus said with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder. Upon looking at his face, his expression fell. “Seven Hells, Cas, have you slept at all?”
He grimaced. He must look as he felt then.
“Can I ask … why does the girl matter so much? Don’t tell me you have a thing for a woman I watched you ignore for almost three months? She’s mortal. She’s going to die in like a decade.” Asmodeus waved a hand dismissively.
Caspian spoke through gritted teeth. “I don’t care.”
Asmodeus raised his hands in surrender and tossed him a second backpack.
Caspian manifested his wings in flashes of black smoke and slung the backpack carefully over the sensitive membranes of his wings.
They walked out the front doors and jumped into the air, launching themselves into the skies.
They flew for a few hours, Caspian’s wings cutting through the air with mechanical precision. When Asmodeus insisted on stopping, complaining of cramped muscles, Caspian nearly tore his throat out.
Asmodeus lounged on a large root and chugged lamb’s blood out of a canteen. He grinned and chatted animatedly, not noticing that Caspian snarled when spoken to and ground his teeth, impatient to return to their pursuit.
After half a day of flying, they reached Rhodea. Sweeping willow trees dotted the coastline, and rolling hills covered in wildflowers stretched below them—the land of flowers and the sea. Perhaps he would find a nice barrel of wine or a bunch of flowers from her homeland to bring her when she returned. She might like that.
The land of the flowers and the sea. He snorted.
It was amusing that a land whose major exports were flowers and wine had managed to topple a regime and build an empire. He supposed that mortals liked their wine, butstill. He would bet everything that he owned that their queen was hiding something.
Ashcroft Manor came into view, and he was floored all over again at the immense wealth of House Ashcroft. The drive was immense, with an elaborate fountain and pink rose gardens flanking either side. Cream walls, high marble pillars, wrought-iron terraces—her family was wealthy enough to be royalty.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He hated them, the nobles like her parents. The Ashcrofts were the last family, the last name he hunted.
If he killed Elizabeth or her parents, his revenge would be complete. Two centuries of work, finally finished. To his disgust, he found the idea of harming her parents abhorrent. It would hurt her if he killed them.
He grimaced. He wanted to find her more than he craved revenge, and that realization alarmed him. She had wrapped him around her little finger and she didn’t even know it.
