Lila stopped sketching; she paused with the tip of her pen poised against the page. She’d heard murmurings against the Council, of course, but nothing concrete. Rumors that the Council had more resources than they spread out among the guilds; that they were favoring one guild over another for their own secretive reasons; that the Creator was displeased with the Council’s governance, and that was why no new angels had been created in the past aeon…
This, however, was a serious, and surprising, turn of events. It did not bode well.
A new government? What would that evenmean?Everyone knew that the Creator had set up the Council. Did they think He would stand idly by while it was removed?
Not that the common angels had seen Him in a long time. The oneswho were old enough to remember Him walking among them—older than Lila and Adrianna—remembered Him with marked differences. His voice, His appearance, and His mannerisms were subjects of rampant speculation. Even those who had conversed with Him had trouble remembering what was said orhowit was said.
Before, she’d thought He was still making all the big decisions behind the scenes. She’d thought the Council was merely a conduit. They liked to make it seem so.
But now she knew that even Luc had trouble gaining an audience with Him. And that the Council, not the Creator, was giving Luc orders.
Could it be true—the nastiest of the rumors? Could the Creator have…disappeared?
She suspected that the Council hid many things, but could they be hidingthat?
“A new government, you say?” Lila replied, carefully neutral. She didn’t want to talk about Luc or what he’d implied in their meeting. Or admit that she’d met with him when Adrianna knew nothing of their previous relationship.
No one did.
“Yes.”
“Mm.” Lila smiled. “So they’re going to take this cage from me and hand me a larger, shinier one?”
“What cage? Lila, you’d be an asset. You would have quite a high rank. You’re proficient in your field and several others, and I know you’ve been training with the warriors. I’ve heard you’re handy with a sword. We need a display of force, to show how serious we are. To show we have the power to convince the Council to step down and to protect Heaven’s borders once the new government is in place.”
“And if the Council refuses to step down?”
Adrianna pursed her lips.
“Then we will do whatever is necessary.”
“Meaning?” Lila frowned, but she received no elaboration.
“Iknowyou’ve been hurt by decisions that have been made,” Adrianna doubled down. “You’renotthe only one who feels misplaced. Or have you not noticed that most of the current students were placed in the warrior guild for some reason the Council won’t clarify? We are trying to right those wrongs.”
“Youmight be trying. I have no idea who else is involved in this or what their intentions are.”
“Then come to a meeting. See thegoodthat could come out of this. See theworldas it mightbe,” she urged, and there it was—the punch of her words, the rhythm of her voice. How she made the ear soar and soften under the spell of it. Trademarks of the old Adrianna peeking through.
“No, thank you,” Lila answered, unmoved. “But I must ask. Why are you involved in this? Are you that unhappy with Eva and with your work as a painter? I thought you loved both.” There had been a time when Adrianna loved both. Or had appeared to.
Adrianna’s mouth twitched. She seemed to be plotting the best choice of words.
“Well, perhaps I should have led with this, but the other reason you should join our efforts is that we don’t believe in any restrictions based on origin. In fact, soulmates would no longer be required to stay together if they wish not to.” Wetting her lips, she continued, delicately, “Haven’t you often wished to leave Castor?”
Lila stared at Adrianna in shock.
Hadshewished to leaveEva?If so, that was news to Lila. She’d always felt like an outsider looking in on Adrianna and Eva’s perfect relationship. Even if she was in the same situation, she couldn’t understand them. She couldn’t imagine possessing their happiness at being tied together forever.
And yet…she’d always been closer to Eva, who benefited the most from that arrangement, so maybe her perception was skewed. She had to admit that she and Adrianna had more in common than she and Eva. Adrianna bore the same designation as Lila: she’d been createdforEva and was the second half of her pair. Her existence had never been her own. Perhaps she thought this rebellion would help her establish her own identity.
Lila had thought to rebel once. Now, she knew to survive on subtlety.
Over the past aeon, she’d learned better ways to bargain and communicate with Castor. They would never be cordial, but at present, they were civil. They had perfected the art of saying as little as possible to convey what they meant. They knew enough of the other person’s quirks, expressions, and gestures that they could go without complete sentences for most of their routine interactions. They even had scheduled exchanges of intimacy, which were much more bearable for Lila than the sudden, inescapable exchanges of her youth. She performed the brunt of the labor in their workshop, and heallowed her time and permission to pursue her ‘little hobbies.’ Perhaps there was something better out there, but if there was something worse, Lila didn’t want to know.
And what of Castor? Could she leave him alone after all this time? He hadn’t chosen to be tied to her either, even if he relished in it. Sometimes, having shared a home with him for so long, she even believed she had genuine affection for him.
Lila shook her head. The idea Adrianna presented was a seductive one, but she neither believed in it nor did she know if it would truly change her state for the better.
