Page 25 of Seraph's Tears
The hall was bare flagstone, cold against my bare feet. Was it always this cold this time of year? Regret wormed through my chest. Perhaps I had been failing my sedge all over again by moping and drenching myself in self-recrimination.
Not a good look on a captain in the Aerie military.
I wandered onto the minstrel gallery and surveyed the Great Hall. It was still dark—I hadn’t thought to give Eve permission to light many fires, and she was a frugal human, so it wouldn’t occur to her to do so without my permission. Grime, cobwebs, and dust still coated the high windows.
The oriel, though, was beginning to look like stained glass actually existed under all those layers of dust. My chest puffed up at the sight, though I didn’t know why.
The door from the servants’ wing opened, and Eve walked through with a bucket and her cap tied tight to her scalp. She wore a frown and she barely looked at the room, as if lost in her own musings.
What is she thinking about? Did she receive troubling news from home? Did the shop not have the food she expected? My hands tightened on the balcony railing. If she needed more, I’d ask Castiel to fly to the next town. Perhaps I’d do it myself, because I couldn’t have him making mistakes with her order. She deserved only the best after how hard she worked around this decrepit manor.
Eve reached the oriel and set down her bucket. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed her next portion of work, sighing.
Before I could think better, my body reacted. I vaulted silently over the railing. My wings shot out, letting me hover halfway to the ground.
Eve gasped at the sharp noise of air hitting my feathers and spun to stare at me.
Does she think I’m handsome? Do the wings repulse her? Are they too inhuman?
Back home, my wings were considered large and full. The white feathers reflected the light in a way most other seraphim found attractive. But I didn’t care about them anymore. I only needed to know what Eve thought about my wings.
She watched me flap once, until I was nearly over her head, then slowly descend.
My feet touched the cold stone floor. If it was chilly to me, a seraph, no wonder she was always wrapped tight in that bulky wool dress and her shawls. I made a note to encourage her to keep more rooms of the house warm. I needed my housekeeper to stay healthy, and humans were so fragile.
“Good afternoon.” She usually smiled when she saw me. This time she looked everywhere but me.
Worry pricked. Maybe she’d hated the kiss. Maybe this attraction was one-sided after all. My fists clenched at the horrifying thought.
“Here to help?” she asked with a hint of a smile after all.
“I…” If my sedge could see me now they’d laugh. I never showed uncertainty. “I’ll supervise.”
She snorted lightly. “Supervise,” she mocked under her breath. Soft enough another human likely wouldn’t be able to hear. She didn’t realize how good seraph hearing was.
My lips quirked in a smile as something light fluttered through my heart. No one ever mocked me. “How was your trip to the village?”
She dunked a sponge in the soapy water, her sleeve rolled up to her elbow. She had such fine, delicate wrists. Winter had paled her skin, and bluish veins wove a pattern up her arms. “Fine.” Eve cleared her throat, glancing away from me. “I got the food I wanted. Didn’t see anyone.”
I cocked my head. It was an odd response, but perhaps she was still getting used to me.
“Tell me about the village,” she said suddenly.
I stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“How do you speak our language? How did you buy Mirkwold? How does the village keep quiet about you and Castiel?” The tone of her voice changed when she reached Castiel’s name.
My wings bristled. Does she like him? Does she prefer him over me? Thoughts spun through my mind before I could stop them. What was wrong with me? I’d never cared much about whether someone liked me or not. I’d had lovers of all genders in the past, and never had I worried about their thoughts. I forced my mind back to the present.
“After hiding in Alban wilderness in the north for a couple of years, we began searching for home. It was hard to keep our identity secret, especially since our Fall had been so public. We were able to find a few humans and swear them to secrecy. There was a coven of witches and seers who helped the most. They taught us the language.”
Eve jerked and stared at me, freezing with the sponge halfway through one swipe of a yellow piece of glass.
“What?” My eyes narrowed.
She shook her head. “Nothing, sorry.”
“What?” I repeated. “Do you not know any witches?”
