All the Queen's Angels

Ch. 24: Nostalgia

Piercing amber eyes stare back, slightly stunned.

"Why do you have this?", I rasp.

"Why are you touching me?", Malcolm counters, his voice soft yet lethal.

"Answer the question—."

"Enough, Vlahos," Leander interrupts.

"Oi," Malcolm snaps at him. Then he turns to me and gently pries my fingers from his hand. His touch sends goosebumps up my arms and as I stare up at him, the familiarity of his gaze tugs on a memory. But the sudden hiss of a blade causes both of us to freeze.

"Unhand her," Leander snarls as he presses the ceremonial dagger against Malcolm's throat. He just flashes a devilish smirk and puts his hands up, his confidence returned.

"Fine. Let the party begin."

And that's how all of us gathered in the Rose Court for the post-ceremony celebrations. The twilight hour casts a dreamy glow upon the opulent greenhouse at the center of the queen's famous rose maze.

Leander and Natalia sit at one end of the banquet table, flanked by the king and queen. I'm sandwiched between a wealthy baron who looks twice my age and a naval captain boasting his countless medals. Penthia, mercifully, sits across from me.

And it's obvious one of these men is meant to be my fiancé by the end of the night. And normally I would make an effort to gain intel and choose which one was less insufferable.

But all I can think of is my ring on Malcolm's hand. The hand that is lazily swirling wine at the other end of the table.

I barely taste the food as I pretend to be interested in the baron's one-sided conversation about his estate gardens.

"I've heard the Gardenian people's valued their landscaping, is that right? I'd happily fill my gardens with your favorite flowers as a honeymoon gift, my dear," the baron chatters, drawing my attention.

Thanks, Grandpa. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He speaks of my nation as if we're extinct, as if the wedding has automatically assimilated Gardenians into Forsythia.

The captain's chatter is slightly more useful as he explains all the different types of battleships he has commandeered in the last year. It seems the Gardenian resistance will require him to be away for months at a time, which sounds like marriage material to me.

Finally, we leave the greenhouse for the garden where Leander and Natalia will have their first dance. The orchestra plays a somber rendition of the anthem as they waltz among the roses. When they break away, there's a moment of awkward silence as guests realize Natalia has no parents to dance with. Before the king can step in, Penthia offers Natalia her hand.

The orchestra immediately plays a beautiful yet unironically melancholic piece as they sway and twirl. No one can ignore that their dance is infinitely more passionate than the one with Leander, yet everyone pretends not to notice.

They continue dancing even as the song fades, so the orchestra blends it with party music for the guests to join in. My heart falls as I see both suitors heading in my direction, and in a moment of desperation I turn to hide in the hedges. As I attempt to flee, I notice Leander and his parents are nowhere to be found.

"May I?". I pause at the familiar, husky voice behind me and decide to take my chances. I face Malcolm and let him lead me to the dance floor.

Unlike his devilish demeanor during the ceremony, Malcolm is all gentlemanly politeness as he takes my hand in his. Despite the warmth of this touch, the ring still burns my hands with its cold metal. In a way, it feels like the very absence of warmth.

"I wanted to thank you privately," Malcolm says as he casually scans the crowd. A part of me is grateful he hasn't made eye contact yet. Everything about him is lethal yet familiar and it terrifies me. He spins us around.

"What for?".

"The ring, of course. I was imprisoned for so long I had forgotten what music sounded like."

"I thought the courts freed you," I reply as I try to stifle the panic rising in my chest. "And I never gave you my ring."

"You heard what Amaryllis said", Malcolm says as he finally looks at me. "The Infernal Courts would never choose to release a prisoner."

"But what does that have to do with my ring?", I press. But I don't think I want to know the answer. As we waltzed, the crowd had slowly (and probably fearfully) dispersed across the floor. We're practically dancing alone now.

He looks away as he says, "I think the better question is why you were in possession of a divine talisman when you're on bad terms with the Heavens."

So he knows about my curse. "A friend gifted it to me."

"How desperate he must have been," Malcom mutters, mostly to himself. He glances at me before twirling me. "That ring was never going to save you. It cannot cheat fate. But it can override court law. That's why I wanted to thank you."

"But I never gave you the ring," I repeat weakly. But it's obvious that whatever happened was out of my hands. It always is.

"You didn't have to. You don't think I'd save your life for free, did you?".

"Save my life—?", I start before realization hits me. I stop dancing but everyone around us continues, making me feel like the world is spinning out of control.

"It was you?", I whisper.

The stranger in the void. The one who saved me when I fainted. When I nearly drowned.

Crap.

How did he appear in my brain? Was I technically dying?

Instead, I blurt, "Are you an angel?".

At first, he just stares at me blankly. "Am I an angel? Do you hear yourself? No. I'm the exact opposite."

"...Satan?".

"What the actual fuck."

"Don't cuss at me. I accidentally traded my life to free you from an eternal prison sentence."

He almost smiles and simply shakes his head as he twirls me one final time. The song ends and he gets quiet as we break away.

"It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me," he finally says. Then he shoves his hands in his pockets, turns, and walks away.

I'm about to seek out Penthia to console her and hide from the baron when Malcolm catches my eye.

He stands relaxed, silhouetted by the dying sun sinking into the channel, hands in pockets like moments before.

But his gaze is wild and his eyes are furrowed and when he clenches his jaw a bolt of fear runs through me.

Something is wrong.

And then I hear it. A distant whistle. It's so faint I almost think I imagined it. But then it disappears.

I exhale, feeling paranoid.

Not a moment later, the horizon explodes.