Page 25 of A Lie so Pretty and Poisonous

Gabriel paused outside a large building, separate from the castle, positioned on the far end of the grounds. Muffled cheers and raucous laughter filtered from the building, resembling the noises of a party. “Rory, listen. Darragh is…complicated. He is not an angheal. He is what we call a ‘crossling.’ His father is an angheal and his mother is a daemonite.” He emphasized the last word with a sneer. “His lineage is forbidden. A danger. He belongs to two opposing stations of seraphs, but neither group claims him because they cannot trust where his loyalties are rooted.”

I fought back a scowl. “Why does his lineage matter?”

“Angheals have more strength in their enchants than dryads or daemonites. The divine wisdom of Themis saw fit that we were in positions of power, keeping order and ensuring all seraphs remain safe and follow the laws we set in place. As such, to preserve our power, we do not typically allow angheals to form romantic relationships with daemonites or dryads. It makes a mockery of the divine power bestowed upon us by Themis. Darragh’s father is considered a ‘fallen’—an angheal who formed a relationship with someone outside their station and created a youngling as a result. It was scandalous.”

I frowned. He deemed non-angheals as less than, and that realization left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Are you saying only angheals are among the nobility? No dryads or daemonites?”

“Daemonites are working class. The help. Built for labor. Dryads do not typically interact with anyone else and live away from society.”

“Your soldiers. Are they daemonites, then?”

Gabriel let out a soft laugh. “No. Only angheals are allowed to be soldiers. Soldiers require strong enchants to do their job properly. The palace guards, however, are all daemonites, apart from Darragh.”

“That seems unfair.”

Good goddess, shut up.

Gabriel gently chuckled. Once again, he closed the gap between us, imposing himself in my space. “A female who cares about the welfare of all. A rare trait.” His fingers glided gently over my exposed collarbone. “Rory, I am not trying to upset you. These are not my laws nor my ideas. It is just the way it is. It has been so for centuries. Do you not have a class system in Edenalee?”

“We do,” I said hesitantly, “but I don’t like it in Edenalee either.”

Gabriel ran a hand down my arm. “I simply want you to understand how our society works since you will be a part of it for the time being. Darragh is an anomaly, and that makes his loyalties questionable. He is not someone I trust. Even if he is a Captain of the Guard.”

Oh. Shit.

“Darragh is Captain of the Guard?

“Unfortunately. But not to worry. My brother has a good grasp on his reins.”

“If he can’t be trusted, how did he get such a high-ranking position?”

Gabriel’s jaw ticked. “Because he is the nephew of Queen Mollah. His father is her brother.”

Evidently, nepotism ran in seraph circles, too.

“I just want you to be careful around him. He is a brute and should only be interacted with sparingly. I hope to be back in a few days’ time. Upon my return, I will resume chaperoning you and Cora.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Cheers erupted again from inside the building, and we both turned toward the noise.

“My apologies for the brutality you are about to see in the sparring ring,” he said. As he flung open the door, the roar of cheers and voices was blaringly loud. I followed behind Gabriel in my ridiculous pink dress. A color that the inside of this building had undoubtedly never seen, making me stand out. A target. Something to be gawked at.

The aroma of sweat and dirt filled the humid building. Soldiers and guards lined the perimeter of a sparring arena, many sweating and some bleeding. They all shouted, jeering towards the center of the ring. Seraph men were tall and broad, making it impossible to see what they were watching. Metal clashing with metal rang out in between loud eruptions of cheers. Whatever was happening, it sounded violent.

Gabriel led me to a less populated area, garnering a few confused stares, whispers, and pointing along the way. He seated me in a wooden chair away from the mass of seraphs. “Wait here. I need to get Darragh’s attention.”

“You’re leaving me?” This was like walking into a den of large wildcats, and now, I was being sat at their feet as a piece of meat.

“Only for a moment,” he assured. “You will be in my direct line of sight, and everyone here is aware that I will have their head if they come near you.”

I hadn’t realized I was clutching his hand, refusing to let go until he gently pulled it from my grasp with a crooked smirk and crinkled eyes.

“I will be right back.”

Gabriel strode past the line of men, glaring at them as they looked in his direction. None of them gave me a second look. The cheering continued as I sat awkwardly out of place, my lavish gown at odds with the sweat and blood in front of me. I could make out movement in the arena between the bodies of the seraphs directly in front of me. In the center, three pairs of legs moved, shuffled, retreated, and advanced. If I didn’t know that they were training with weapons and fists, it would almost look like a dance.

One of the seraphs in front of me moved to the side enough that I was able to take in the entire area for the first time. Two seraphs were locked in a sword battle with a shirtless man, and he was beating the shit out of them. All I could make out from a distance was that the winning seraph was larger than the rest of the men in the entire building, but he moved with a lightness that was unexpected for someone so muscular. Tattoos marked his golden skin. He was built for strength and combat. One of the smaller seraphs charged at him, sword raised, and the shirtless seraph knocked the sword out of his hand, throwing the smaller man over his shoulder with ease. I shouldn’t have been so impressed watching brutality like this, but I found it fascinating.

Another set of legs appeared, strolling in toward the fighting, and the cheering died down, leaving only the sound of swords clanging together and grunts from the fighters. Gabriel strode into view, barely missing stepping on the man who was now winded on the ground, and walked up to the two remaining fighters, both pausing mid-swing when they noticed his approach. I couldn’t hear what Gabriel said, but the smaller of the two walked away with a nod of his head, leaving Gabriel with the shirtless seraph. Darragh. Captain of the Guard. My new chaperone.

Gabriel animatedly spoke, tense and pointing a finger into Darragh’s chest. They both turned and stalked out of the arena, disappearing from my view. Two more guards replaced them and resumed training. The crowd dispersed with the excitement of the match dwindling. Seraphs walked by me with brief but curious looks. I wouldn’t meet their gaze, but I knew eyes were on me. Women have an innate ability to feel the heaviness of unwanted stares.