Chapter 10
Uncomfortable situations with the aristocracy had been thrust upon me my entire life.
But what happened in the throne room had to be one of the tensest situations I had ever encountered.
For a brief moment, I was thankful for the layers of fabric that concealed the sweat that had formed under the bodice.
As the heavy doors to the throne room shut behind us, Gabriel and I simultaneously took deep breaths. His eyes softened. “I am sorry you had to witness such behavior. It is out of character for me to challenge the king like that, but I am…protective of you.”
“It’s alright,” I reassured. “I appreciate you standing up for your principles. However, I must ask. How did you know my full name? Did you use an enchant on me? Did you know I would get interrogated?” The words rambled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
His jaw dropped. “What?” His hand left my back and moved to my upper arm, gently guiding me down the hallway and away from the listening guards.
We turned a corner into a vacant hallway and paused in front of a bronze statue of a horse.
“Your satchel. Your full name was on the inside flap, and I saw it when I took it off the horse upon entering the courtyard. And no, I did not know that my brother would make you undergo questioning.” He stood with his arms crossed, his posture tense. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Guilt coated my stomach. Gabriel had been nothing but kind to me, and I had launched into a tirade of questions right after he was berated by his king.
I knew better than to do such a thing. “Gabriel, I apologize. My past is riddled with bad experiences. Particularly with men.” I hung my head, casting my eyes at his feet.
A lifetime of heartache, manipulation, and abuse came at a hefty cost.
Don’t let your mask slip, Rory.
His face softened, and his arms sagged at his side. Closing the distance between us, his large hand gently grasped my chin and lifted it to look up at his face. His lapis blue eyes searched mine, and his thumb stroked a line across my jaw.
Gabriel spoke softly. “I am sorry you have not been treated kindly by men, but you cannot compare me to whatever human wasn’t kind to you. Not all men are like that. You can trust me. I need you to trust me. It would break my heart otherwise.”
I nodded.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his gaze landed hungrily on my mouth. I recognized that hunger. One I had seen many times in my life from men. My body tensed and warmed, flushing my face.
Goddess, I hope he doesn’t try anything.
“Let me kiss you,” he whispered as he lowered his face to mine.
My eyes shut expectantly, and my mouth parted to invite him to press his lips against mine.
“Commander!” A voice called out.
Gabriel dropped his hand from my face as my eyes shot open. He positioned himself in front of me, resuming a formal stance as a soldier trotted down the hall toward us.
Was I seriously about to let him kiss me?
“What, Caleb?” His voice was stern.
I hoped the flush of my face and the hazy look in my eyes didn't give us away.
Caleb glanced at me and then at Gabriel, who was scowling. “My apologies for interrupting, Commander, but I just received a report on militia movement from the west valley. I thought you would like to be briefed, and we await your command on how to proceed.”
Gabriel inclined his head. “I will meet you and the others in my office in one hour. Dismissed.”
As Caleb jogged off, Gabriel turned back to me. I wrung my fingers, and my eyes dashed around the hallway, refusing to meet his. He took a step toward me again and brought my hands into his. “My apologies. Please do not be embarrassed. I hope I didn’t overstep.”
I fought the urge to back away. “Yes. I mean…no. I am taken aback. That’s all. Maybe we should slow things down a bit. We don’t even know each other.”
Gabriel smiled. “Of course. I want to get to know you. However much you will share with me.”
I sighed, and I internally berated myself for almost letting that happen.
Gabriel looked down the long hallway and back at me. “Now, I have to introduce you to your chaperone while I am away,” he grumbled.
He led me through the glittering marble halls. The size of the castle was disorienting. Hallways turned into more hallways; doors led to staircases. By the time the sun beamed on my face, I was completely turned around. A castle this size would take time to learn how to navigate.
“All of the off-duty soldiers and guards are in the combat ring this time of day. We should be able to find Darragh there,” Gabriel said gruffly.
I tilted my head and frowned. “Is there anything I should know? Should I be worried about us being in his care?”
Gabriel paused outside a large building, separate from the castle, positioned on the far end of the grounds.
Muffled cheers and raucous laughter filtered from the building, resembling the noises of a party.
“Rory, listen. Darragh is…complicated. He is not an angheal. He is what we call a ‘crossling.’ His father is an angheal and his mother is a daemonite.” He emphasized the last word with a sneer.
“His lineage is forbidden. A danger. He belongs to two opposing stations of seraphs, but neither group claims him because they cannot trust where his loyalties are rooted.”
I fought back a scowl. “Why does his lineage matter?”
“Angheals have more strength in their enchants than dryads or daemonites. The divine wisdom of Themis saw fit that we were in positions of power, keeping order and ensuring all seraphs remain safe and follow the laws we set in place. As such, to preserve our power, we do not typically allow angheals to form romantic relationships with daemonites or dryads. It makes a mockery of the divine power bestowed upon us by Themis. Darragh’s father is considered a ‘fallen’—an angheal who formed a relationship with someone outside their station and created a youngling as a result. It was scandalous.”
I frowned. He deemed non-angheals as less than, and that realization left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Are you saying only angheals are among the nobility? No dryads or daemonites?”
“Daemonites are working class. The help. Built for labor. Dryads do not typically interact with anyone else and live away from society.”
“Your soldiers. Are they daemonites, then?”
Gabriel let out a soft laugh. “No. Only angheals are allowed to be soldiers. Soldiers require strong enchants to do their job properly. The palace guards, however, are all daemonites, apart from Darragh.”
“That seems unfair.”
Good goddess, shut up.
Gabriel gently chuckled. Once again, he closed the gap between us, imposing himself in my space.
“A female who cares about the welfare of all. A rare trait.” His fingers glided gently over my exposed collarbone.
“Rory, I am not trying to upset you. These are not my laws nor my ideas. It is just the way it is. It has been so for centuries. Do you not have a class system in Edenalee?”
“We do,” I said hesitantly, “but I don’t like it in Edenalee either.”
Gabriel ran a hand down my arm. “I simply want you to understand how our society works since you will be a part of it for the time being. Darragh is an anomaly, and that makes his loyalties questionable. He is not someone I trust. Even if he is a Captain of the Guard.”
Oh. Shit.
“Darragh is Captain of the Guard?
“Unfortunately. But not to worry. My brother has a good grasp on his reins.”
“If he can’t be trusted, how did he get such a high-ranking position?”
Gabriel’s jaw ticked. “Because he is the nephew of Queen Mollah. His father is her brother.”
Evidently, nepotism ran in seraph circles, too.
“I just want you to be careful around him. He is a brute and should only be interacted with sparingly. I hope to be back in a few days’ time.
Upon my return, I will resume chaperoning you and Cora.
” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it.
Cheers erupted again from inside the building, and we both turned toward the noise.
“My apologies for the brutality you are about to see in the sparring ring,” he said.
As he flung open the door, the roar of cheers and voices was blaringly loud.
I followed behind Gabriel in my ridiculous pink dress.
A color that the inside of this building had undoubtedly never seen, making me stand out. A target. Something to be gawked at.
The aroma of sweat and dirt filled the humid building.
Soldiers and guards lined the perimeter of a sparring arena, many sweating and some bleeding.
They all shouted, jeering towards the center of the ring.
Seraph men were tall and broad, making it impossible to see what they were watching.
Metal clashing with metal rang out in between loud eruptions of cheers.
Whatever was happening, it sounded violent.
Gabriel led me to a less populated area, garnering a few confused stares, whispers, and pointing along the way. He seated me in a wooden chair away from the mass of seraphs. “Wait here. I need to get Darragh’s attention.”
“You’re leaving me?” This was like walking into a den of large wildcats, and now, I was being sat at their feet as a piece of meat.
“Only for a moment,” he assured. “You will be in my direct line of sight, and everyone here is aware that I will have their head if they come near you.”
I hadn’t realized I was clutching his hand, refusing to let go until he gently pulled it from my grasp with a crooked smirk and crinkled eyes.
“I will be right back.”