Page 27 of Seraph's Tears
“It was a relief,” Eve continued. “She’d been in much pain. Later he had six visions from Erlik about angels and death.”
I forced a harsh laugh. “And because of that, some fool decided I was the Herald of Death?”
“He wanted to worship you. Give you the honor he thought you deserved.”
I shook my head, crossing my arms. “What honor? I’m a failed captain in the middle of a war. I’m stranded with my people, and even though I swore to get them home, I couldn’t do that. What honor is there in that?”
She stared at me with those brown eyes, and I suddenly felt naked, as if she’d stripped not only the clothes off me but my skin as well. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
My wings hitched. “You weren’t there,” I muttered.
“Precisely.” She gave a sharp nod. “That’s why you can trust my opinion as objective truth on the matter.”
I laughed. Out loud. And laughed again from the sheer surprise of it. It had been too long since I’d laughed, I realized. What a dear little human this Eve was.
She stopped and looked at me, a surprised smile on her face, too. “So you do laugh.”
I rolled my eyes. “On occasion.”
Her expression sobered. “I don’t know you well, Gabriel. But from what I’ve seen, you’re a deeply responsible, devoted person. Do any of your seraphim believe you’ve failed them?”
I thought about my people, their faces spinning through my mind. “I….”
“And there you have it.” She nodded again. “No one blames you for not finding a way home. You’ve clearly done what you can.”
I rubbed my face. “I think…I think I will be failing them if I continue like this. If I can’t find a way home, I should make it as easy as possible for them to settle here. Built a decent life, if not a good one.”
She studied me. “What do you mean?”
I sighed and glanced around the Great Hall. “It means I need to spend some money. And you need to hurry up on cleaning that glass.” I nodded to the oriel.
Eve gasped in mock outrage. “I’m not the one with wings.” She pointed above her head. “Do you see how high that goes? Do you see any ladders around here?”
I chuckled again, that rusty sound reverberating in my chest. She laughed with me this time, and that ache in my chest disappeared completely at the sound of her voice. “We’ll see, Housekeeper, we’ll see what I can do.” I couldn’t imagine liking her any more, or finding her even more beautiful if she was a seraph.
Her face sobered. “Would you ever use your sword again?”
Surprise rippled through me, and my wings jerked. “What do you mean?”
“I saw your sword in the corner of your room. I wasn’t trying to snoop, I promise!” Her face reddened. “I was cleaning. Very well, maybe a little snooping. It’s beautiful, Gabriel. It belongs above a mantelpiece or in a place of honor.” She took a breath, watching my face. “Why is it hidden behind dust and cobwebs, Gabriel?”
Shame, icy and wet, trickled down my spine. I resisted the urge to ruffle my feathers. “You found it? I wondered where I’d put it.” Actually, no, I hadn’t. I tried not to think of it at all. “It’s a reminder of all I lost. All my sedge lost. Everything I failed to do and be.”
She sighed and nodded. “I was afraid of that.”
I blinked.
“One day, when you are ready, I would love to see you flying with it in hand.” She stepped closer and pressed her palm to my chest.
My heart throbbed under her warmth.
“I hope you are ready soon,” she said wistfully, then turned and went back to the oriel.
My feet wouldn’t move. My wings wouldn’t even flutter. I stared at her back, the gentle slope of it while she stretched. “Maybe,” I said gruffly, and turned away, hoping she hadn’t heard me.
Chapter Eleven
Eve
