1. Seraphic

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏. throwing caution to the wind

a z r i e l

☽ ☾

When the meeting with the King arrived next week, Azriel went alone.

He didn't feel like taking company, but even if he had wanted to, Kol would be recognised, and Malachai would be killed on the spot. His sister quite blatantly detested the place, and wouldn't go back even if she was threatened with the blade of a dagger, and she was the only one old enough to go.

As the carriage rolled up to the palace, Azriel memorised the layout as best he could, and then promptly looked away when he spotted someone in his peripheral.

Oh, great. The bitter princess.

Azriel gave a nod. "Your Highness."

She gave a nod back. "General Salvatore." She stood straighter. "I am to take you inside."

He supposed his sister had been right in saying only bad things happened on the monarch's grounds.

"Surely there must be someone to do that? I would not want to trouble you; I am sure you have more important duties to attend to than showing me inside."

She plastered a smile on her face. "At the moment, this is my duty. This way, then, General."

Rosangelina turned and continued walking towards the palace; Azriel scowled at her back before following behind in long strides.

Of all people, he had to be stuck with the irrelevant sister?

Regardless, he followed her, because it was all he could do. He recognised the hallways of the palace as they walked down them until they reached the war room, and for some strange reason, Azriel could count exactly how many steps it took to get from the hallway to the doors.

"My father is through there. Mother is busy but she might join this meeting if she gets the chance to. Same goes for Seraphina." Something woke inside of him at the mention of that name, raring to get life. "Good luck."

"Relying on luck is a foolish endeavour, Your Highness."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, but he noticed, just like he took it upon himself to notice everything around him. Any little thing could very well become a catalyst to something far beyond their understanding.

"So is cynicism, General." He wouldn't call it cynicism. Just caution. "Guards." She gestured towards the doors, knocked, and then she was off.

Azriel sighed an internal breath of relief.

He was more thankful than ever that for as much as he and his siblings fought, they still loved each other. Rosangelina seemed to harbour more hostility and bitterness towards Seraphina than love. That irked and pissed him off beyond reason.

True love was rare, so what was the point of wasting it in favour for jealousy and rage?

He knew he wasn't deserving of it, and yet he was loved, yet he loved silently and secretly, because he couldn't afford the privilege of doing it openly.

But for someone who had that privilege, she was wasting it.

Brushing the thoughts aside, Azriel stepped through the now-open doors and was met with the familiar sight of the Celestes' war room; almost nothing had changed, except there were now more seats and more drinks on the crystal tray full of them.