She was alive when the Sorellien Islands changed from the Fourth Age to the Fifth Age. She was alive when the Ouanaviel Empyrean was first established. Alive and counseled Papi to never bow to the terror that was Empràr Zadkias Claudevin. To never bow knee or wing to the greed of the Farasee Order. She was a literal, livinglegend. And one of Papi’s greatest supporters.
Obsidian was the one who informed me of her steadfast loyalty. She’d been asked numerous times to become Mortevain Island’s Elderèss. But she always refused. She often asked why she should be chief when the island already had a king.
Each time I thought of her, my respect deepened. I watched her now with reverent awe. Madame Mireline glided forward with authority, power, and grace. Her brushed-out ivory hair flowed prettily to her ankles, tumbling around her golden sandals. The pearlescent kaftan she donned swished as she floated through the garden courtyard. Her wings flapped gently on the breeze, glowing beneath the moonlight. She floated until she came to a hover before Jacques. She glared at him for a long time.
“Mireline, please see reason and stop this?—”
Madame Mireline turned an icy gaze towards Marcèllian. He instantly fell silent. Without a word to him, she turned back to Jacques. Then she lifted her hand, holding something before him. I laughed darkly in the night. There wasn’t a chance in theSix Hèls Jacques was getting out of this. My grin stretched from ear to ear.
“Is this notyoursignet?”
“Awoui, Madame Mireline. But?—”
“I’ve seen enough.”
“Madame,please. I would never?—”
“But you already did.”
Madame Mireline turned away from Jacques, ignoring his protests. She disrespectfully flung the signet ring at Marcèllian's feet, glowering at him with such disgust even I shuddered. She looked out at the onlookers who waited for her judgment with bated breath.
“Jacques Beauradèl is guilty of murder!”
Jacques and Marcèllian screamed out at the same time.
“NO.”
“Mireline, please!” Marcèllian cried. “Have mercy! We need to investigate more.”
Madame Mireline ignored him.
Her eyes blazed as she looked at the Mortents of Mortevain Island.
“I declare blood for blood!” Mireline cried.
“Blood for blood!” responded the angels. “Blood for blood!”
Chapter 25
Tassarion
Well,rot. This was a deliciously positive turn of events. I shifted in the tree, getting more comfortable. Had I known these proceedings would have gone like this, I would’ve brought snacks.
“Blood for blood! Blood for blood!” The angels continued to chant.
I really thought Marcèllian would somehow weasel his spawn out of punishment. To my surprise and great pleasure, he couldn’t. Jacques cried out, testifying to no avail. The angels had made their decision. For the death of little Richard, Jacques Beauradèl would die.
Movement from a window above caught my attention. I looked up and saw Yvette. It was only a few dawns ago that she was so cheerful while she played with her little brother. Now she watched as the eldest of her siblings was condemned for the death of the youngest.
Donning a pretty blush-pink gown that accentuated her curves, she watched from her bedchamber balcony the proceedings below through saddened hazel eyes. She was barefoot and her hair was undone, the tight curls tumbling around her frame in a large, twisted-out afro. She held herselfby her wings, the long feathers wrapping around her body. Beautiful and innocent as she was, the sight of her vibrant life only enraged me.
Yvette Beauradèl was still here.
Vitani Everthorn wasn’t.
“Blood for blood.”
Mireline whispered the words, yet they blared over the courtyard as if she’d roared. The legend of an angel whipped around and thrust out her hand at Jacques. He screamed. The chains on his wings clipped through, snapping talon and bone. I flinched at the crunching sound. His feathers fell, and golden blood seeped from his wings, down his body, dripping to the floor.
