Chapter 11 #2
“Fair enough.” I got down two cups and poured our tea, adding a small spoonful of honey for hers, as she’d started making it that way for herself after Seir brought us a jar.
They were keeping bees in the glade now, on top of everything else.
It was downright domestic, and I wasn’t sure I wasn’t a little jealous about it.
“Was your father of the old guard then? If you think I’d recognize his name? ”
Phin’s head bobbed as she took the cup from me, and I had no choice but to follow her out of the kitchen into the living area. She curled her legs under her as she settled into the corner seat of the sofa, and I took my place in the recliner.
“He was. Would that be strange? If you knew him?”
“Perhaps.” It was an interesting prospect to be sure.
“But having met him once or twice and knowing him are two very different things.” I waited for her to continue, the changes in her facial expression telling me that this was not a simple topic for her.
Nor should it have been—angelic and demonic names could be used for harm in the wrong mouths.
“My father’s name is Radueriel.”
“Ah.” I curled my fingers around the steamy teacup, giving her my undivided attention. As far as names went, that was one I was sure everyone knew. “Then you come by your love of scribe work, libraries, and organization honestly.”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes. I believe so too. You know him then?”
“Of him. I may have met him once or twice during my time in Heaven, but we were not well acquainted. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
“He has a bit of a reputation. Are the rumors true?”
She smiled, and it was like someone had brought the sun into the room with us. “Which rumors would that be?”
“Top of mind is that he was quite high ranking.”
“I suppose he was. I remember someone asking him once what it was like to be above even Metatron. My father said some things back to them that I worried would get us kicked out. Nobody ever asked that again.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t behave like someone with special permissions then?”
The tiniest snort came out of her nose. “No. Though I heard it repeated enough times to learn that my father was, in fact, a powerful man, he never behaved as such. He just wanted to be left alone to his books for the most part, though him sneaking me into the archives would probably have ended poorly had we ever been discovered.” Her nose scrunched.
“Aren’t you also quite high ranking? Wasn’t it only princes and dukes and the like that fell? ”
“Jumped,” I corrected her. “I suppose I am, though I don’t participate in the systems of Hell that would award me any kind of tangible power. I hold my post here, monitor the doors, keep to myself. What would I even do with sixty-six legions?”
“That sounds like a lot.” She smiled, her sweet nature more and more evident as she grew comfortable here.
“I suppose it is. My brothers mostly have twenty or so each. Though none of them really have use for them either.” I rumbled a laugh, realizing that I was looking at the only reason any of us would have had for calling upon them in centuries.
“Though if Heaven picks a fight …” I shrugged and Phin shifted, understanding crossing her face as she nodded.
“Do you have a title?”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. I’d never cared for the labels, meaningless as they were. “I do.”
She watched me expectantly. “Well?”
I sighed. “I am a Mighty Prince as well as a Great President. But those are just words. They bring no value to my life, nor do they make me anything other than who I am.”
“My father was a Great Prince, and he felt the same. Rank and power didn’t appeal to him. Things like music and art did. Chasing butterflies in a meadow or trying to figure out the mathematical music of a stream moving over rocks.”
“I recall talk about him being a poet. Those things certainly sound like something a poet would enjoy.”
I hadn’t thought it possible, but her face brightened even further, her pride in him evident.
“He was. Every word was important to him. He absorbed knowledge in the archives like it was water and he was parched earth.” I wondered if she noticed that she’d behaved very much like a poet herself just then.
Her body had taken on a levity while speaking, her shoulders back and chest out, everything about her quietly confident. Radiant.
She was beautiful.
“Keep going,” I said quietly, encouraging the burst of happiness to continue when she started to sag back into herself.
Phin sighed and set her tea on the side table. “I really can’t think of anything he couldn’t do, a kindness he didn’t perform. He loves my mother with every bit of himself, and I was probably very spoiled by them both.”
“You seem the opposite of spoiled, Phin.”
She shrugged. “Well, that was a long time ago. Things are different now.”
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Terra.”
“That’s lovely. You obviously take after him. What does she look like?”
Her eyes closed and a slow smile spread across her face as she fell into her memories.
“She’s our opposite. Eyes so dark they’re nearly black, The most incredible, warm smile.
She always kept her hair braided because it was long.
It had grown past her waist last I saw her.
It looked wavy when she let it down. I often wished I’d gotten her dark-brown hair instead of Father’s silver, her warm brown skin.
” Phin rubbed her arms and reached up to touch her very short curls.
She cleared her throat and took another drink.
“I had the best of both worlds growing up, in every sense. He always made sure we had everything we needed, that we spent as much time as we could in Heaven. But we also hated leaving my mother behind, so we went back and forth a lot.”
“She couldn’t go with you because she was human.”
“No, she couldn’t. But she never made us feel guilty about it, she knew it was important. Said that was what she signed up for when she fell in love with an angel.”
“Were they fated?” I asked, the words quiet, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“Yes, they were mates.” Her response was breathy, the way her eyes locked onto mine when she said the single affirmation sent a jolt of awareness through my whole body.
I had to swallow before speaking again, the tension suddenly thick between us. “How did they meet?”
“My father had come to Earth to find a certain book. The church, the vault there, it’s always been somewhere those kinds of things happen to end up.”
“There are still several priceless items there, and that was Armaros’s excuse for visiting, so I can only imagine. My brother Vassago did actually locate one of his beloved tomes in that building once upon a time.”
“Really?” Her eyes danced. She shifted around in the seat, her chin propped on her hand.
It was distracting how engaged she was, how interesting she made my stories—me—feel.
“Anyway, he was looking for a book and my mother was with her family, traveling through. Love at first sight and all that.” She blushed.
“Father always said there was simply no way he could have let her go after watching her single-handedly manage their caravan camp. Sold him immediately that she was not just beautiful, but capable and not afraid of hard work.”
“Mate bonds do work in mysterious ways,” I said, noncommittally, my own bond burning fiercely as I stared at her.
Melancholy returned to her tone. “I miss them so much.” She stood. “But I feel better after talking about them. I’ve kept them as secret as I have myself the last number of years.”
I reached out and took her fingers in my hand as she passed my chair. “Perhaps if you do that more I can help carry the burden of your grief. I try to be a good listener.”
She blinked at me, a sheen in her eyes. Her throat worked as she swallowed. Phin opened her mouth but gave up and just nodded. Then she bent down and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
I sat there for several moments, thoughts scrambled as I processed what had happened. When I finally remembered to breathe again, my heart pounded to make up for the brief interruption.
A sniffle reached my ears as Phin retreated down the hall. My chest ached at her grief. I’d do anything in my power to ease it even a little bit, to take it from her, anything and everything I could to ensure her happiness.
There was simply no other choice.