Page 37 of A Game of Monsters

“I’m not really in the headspace for celebrating,” I said, cringing internally at the mention of the wedding, an event I was dreading. Not only for the joy I was to pretend to share, but also seeing friends I’d pushed away.

“But you are in the capital which has been, rather impressively, taken over by the Nephilim. Can’t you ask around for Rafaela since you’re here, or perhaps take the hint that she hasn’t reached back to you because she just doesn’t like you?”

“That may be the case,” I said, swallowing the bile that burned at the back of my throat. I blinked and saw her golden hammer in the hands of Zarrel, heard the echo of his refusal to let me see Rafaela and the mention of ‘approval’ from Cassial. “I think something has happened to her, something bad, and considering I helped her destroy the keys, I find myself feeling responsible for whatever state she is in.”

“Careful, Robin. You may just bury yourself beneath the burdens of everyone else, before realising your own are killing you from the inside,” Seraphine warned.

“Beautifully put,” I replied. “Have you taken up poetry since we last saw each other?”

“Actually,Your Majesty, I’ve turned my hands to sketching. Had to give them something to do since I’ve put down the daggers and poisons.”

My leg twitched, bouncing up and down, fingers pinching into the material of my trousers. “Please, Seraphine. I beg you to help me.”

“Must be bad if you left your little demon back in Icethorn, travelled all this way, just to see her.”

“She would do it for me if the tables were turned.” If Seraphine refused me, I would willingly get on my knees and beg her. “I need to–”

Need to what? Know if Rafaela was okay because I was genuinely worried about her? Or was it because I knew, without her assistance, I’d not be able to put an end to this literal hell on earth? Both, perhaps. Either way, I had to get answers, and nobody else I knew had the ability to carve answers out of nothing but will alone.

“How long do I have for this task?” Seraphine stood from the chair, speaking from a professional place. Gone was the relaxed interaction between us. Once again, I was her employer, and she was my Asp.

“As soon as possible.” Relief blossomed within me, like a flower beneath sun. “Or at worst, by dawn. But I appreciate that’s short notice.”

Seraphine didn’t look happy with me, and yet I knew she’d made her mind up. “Is that a lack of confidence in my skills that I hear beneath your words?”

I feigned a smile, shaking my head. “Never.”

Seraphine tipped her head and turned back for the door. “You’ll know when I have your answers. Don’t blame me if it’s not what you want to hear.”

“I won’t. Thank you,” I said, chasing her heel until we both stood before the closed door. Before she swept out, I reached out and took her wrist in my hand. “Seraphine, just another moment before you go.”

She paused, hand clutching the door handle. “If you want to reminisce about what we’ve lost, I’m not in the mood for it.”

“No,” I said. “It’s nothing like that. I just… I just want to ask what’s changed for you, that you’d help me without payment. Not like you to do charity work, after all.”

When she looked back at me, I saw fear in her eyes for the first time. Even when she’d stood between me and Duncan, lightning arching toward her, as Duwar finally took control of Duncan’s body, she hadn’t looked frightened.

But now, she looked as terrified as I felt inside.

“Because I found something to lose,” Seraphine answered. “Just when I believed everything was taken from me, my life ruined. Turned out when you don’t go looking, life comes looking for you.”

My heart ached at her genuine reply. “What’s their name?”

She glanced down to her hand. Although I couldn’t see the ring beneath her gloves, I saw the outline of the metal as she ran a thumb over it. “Lindwell. Or Lin for short.”

Her hand then shifted from the ring into a jacket pocket. From there she retrieved what looked to be a square of cloth, something sun-faded and frayed at the edges. Slowly, she unfolded it and handed it to me.

“I told you I got into sketching,” Seraphine said as my eyes settled on what was in my hands. “A lot can happen in a matter of months, especially when one finally gives up control to the ravine that is life.”

I looked down to a picture, drawn in neat, detailed lines. The faces of three people looked up at me. Seraphine stood beside a man, her features sharper than they looked in person but still recognisable. The man, who must’ve been her husband, Lindwell, stood behind a young girl. I couldn’t tell how old she was, and nor did she look anything like Seraphine. And yet there was a tenderness to the sketch, a love that oozed from the heart-shaped face of the young girl, and the soft smile Seraphine offered down to her.

“Altar, Seraphine–” I choked, finding my body rooted to the floor. “I see you’ve found more than just a husband.”

“Lin came with baggage in the form of a five year-old girl. She lost her mother a few years back from sickness, and it would seem I’ve found myself slotting into her life as the right shape to fit her missing pieces.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the sketch. It was only when Seraphine took it back, folded it neatly and placed it back in her inner pocket – the one just shy of her heart – that I looked up to her. “I’m so happy for you, Seraphine. You’ve found a family, just when those before were taken away from you.”

If I was so happy, then why did tears sting my eyes?

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