Page 16 of Seraph's Tears
I laughed self-consciously. “I know I said I was an open book, but goodness you drive right to it. I’m not considered a good catch.”
“Good catch?”
Heavens, I had to spell it out for him? I pointed to my face, my hair. “I’m not the prettiest girl in the congregation—the community,” I quickly corrected. “And I’m not the best cook.” I also tend to quietly, secretly disobey. I don’t believe anymore. I can’t believe Erlik demands worship like this. I don’t believe I was born to further Erlik’s glory. And they can sense that about me, even if they don’t know quite how.
He scowled at his empty plate. “I didn’t hate the eggs.”
A frisson of pleasure rushed through me. I bit my lip to not laugh at the faint praise. For a seraph not used to eggs and tea, this was as high praise as one could expect. “That and I tend to be opinionated.”
He barked a laugh. “You scurry around like a mouse. Up until today I didn’t think you had a backbone.”
Hurt flashed. “You’re my employer,” I got out between gritted teeth. “Scurrying is part of my job description.”
Regret shone in his eyes, as well as surprise. “Eve, I?—”
I waved his words away. It didn’t matter. It was better, actually, that I knew what he thought about me. A seraph wouldn’t be attracted to a mouse. After the sting wore off I would be able to walk away without a backward glance. “My family is religious.”
“The Church of Saras.” He declared it proudly, like a pupil who studied for a test.
I nodded, amused. “Yes, she is our goddess. Her brother, Termus, is also worshipped by all. but my parents joined a smaller church called the Church of the Love of His Divine Saints, to worship their father, Erlik. It’s…smaller. Less known.” A cult. It had taken me years to see that. To realize normal communities let their people come and go and learn from others. My church, this church, didn’t permit it. Many of the women never left our community just outside Lownden, at least while unmarried. I was the first in a long time, and only because Zorababel could command me to do whatever he wanted.
In front of me, Gabriel frowned. “Your people are quite religious, aren’t they?”
I held in a snort. “My people certainly are. All humans? I don’t know. We’re not encouraged to go out much.” There was Emmas, the mother goddess, Erlik, the god of death and beyond, and their twin children: Termus, the god of commerce, and Saras, the goddess of humanities. Most people routinely worshipped Termus and Saras, but I had been raised to obsessively venerate Erlik and only Erlik.
He cocked his head. “Then…how are you here?”
I’d walked right into that one. Foolish, foolish. “My parents are aging. They don’t have much in savings.” True, especially since Father had donated everything to the church for the good of the community. “And because I’m unmarried”—for now, hopefully forever “—I saw this opportunity to see another piece of Anglia.” I didn’t tell him about my growing unhappiness, my realization that I was cut off from the world, my decision to leave.
“Do many other young adults leave for a time, like you?”
No. “Yes.” I smiled. “But have no fear. I shan’t be leaving here any time soon. Without a betrothed, it’s best for my family if I work and send money to them.” And as soon as I’d gotten Zor what he wanted, I’d disappear. Even if this strange, alluring seraph made parts of me want to stay.
“I suppose I am lucky, then, that I was the home you chose.” The words were delivered quietly and with no fanfare. It took a moment for me to realize I’d been complimented.
I smiled. “I’m happy to be here.” Not quite a truth, not quite a lie. For so many conflicting reasons.
After a brief silence, I stood. I shouldn’t have been here so long, and he seemed to have run out of questions. I didn’t want to annoy him, especially due to the strange attraction I had toward him. “
Let me clear your dishes.”
He leaned toward me as I bent over and reached for the plate. Was he…sniffing me? I tried not to react, though my pulse raced.
“What are you doing the rest of the day?” he asked abruptly.
I paused halfway across the room, hands full. “Cleaning?” It was a question, for I wondered if he wanted something else from me.
His permanent scowl softened. “I would appreciate all that you do.”
Surprised and flattered by his gratitude, I blurted, “I’m working on cleaning the oriel, but it will take me a long time. It’s twenty feet high and I haven’t even begun the outside yet. But it will be beautiful once clean.”
He nodded. I couldn’t read his expression. He wasn’t frowning anymore, but I couldn’t call it a smile, either.
I glanced around the room. “I can clean these chambers, if you like.”
He looked, too. A hand rubbed the back of his neck and his wings hitched high and tight above his shoulders. “Ah, yes, things did rather get away from me.”
Did that wing movement mean embarrassment or self-consciousness? I hid a smile, absurdly amused to see such a strong, authoritative being express embarrassment in front of his housekeeper. “I’ll start here tomorrow,” I promised. “And should I make enough supper for you? I can deliver it, if you please.”
