To Love a Celestial

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Welcome to King's City

Tears stained Azrael's face from the hours of crying herself hoarse. Dinner had arrived a while ago but she never answered the door and it sat there cold and uneaten. Not even Raden's portion had been touched. Although Azrael wasn't even sure he was still in the city. For all she knew, he was somewhere high in the sky finding a way around the mountains.

Azrael eventually pulled herself from the puddle she had become and peered around the room. There was a private bathroom that was connected to the room. The urge for a bath came over Azrael and that's what she would do. A late night bath was what she needed right now because the worries of what to do next could wait til sunrise.

She cleaned up as best she could and went down stairs, finding that the innkeeper was still awake. "Excuse me ma'am, do you have a bucket I could use to draw a bath?"

The innkeeper, a middle aged woman, turned and smiled. "You can just call me Rosemary, but I can call someone to grab the water for you."

"Oh, that's okay. I need the fresh air."

Rosemary hesitated, "Are you sure? It's no problem?"

Azrael nodded. "I just need to clear my head."

"Okay." She handed Azrael a large clay pot and gave her directions to the well.

Azrael thanked her and rushed out before she could be asked any more questions.

The streets were still pretty busy even at this hour. Azrael felt a little at ease knowing she wouldn't be walking in empty dark streets. There were signs she found that pointed towards the main well, but it was all the way in the center of the city. She didn't care to explore unfamiliar territory at this time of night and so far from the safety of the inn. Another sign caught her attention to a well that was just a block away. It wasn't ideal, but it would do for now.

She found that music was pouring from the taverns and pubs as she carried on. If this was the night life just in this small part of the city, Azrael couldn't wait to explore more. A rather catchy tune began to play and Azrael found herself humming along. The music seemed to wash away her sadness and she let it as she came to the well.

"You have quite a nice voice."

Azrael turned to the shadows of the alley directly across from her. A man, no older than her, stalked from the dark with a drunken smirk and an empty bottle. She could already smell the putrid alcohol that lingered around the stranger.

When she didn't answer, he continued. "You know it's only polite to thank me."

"For what?" Azrael stood tall and spoke as boldly as she could. She wouldn't let her nerves get to her this time.

"I gave you a nice compliment," he slurred. She grabbed tightly to the pot ready to swing as he stepped forward. "Oh don't be like that."

"You know what, I can take a bath another time," Azrael thought out loud, turning to run but he was quicker in grabbing her arm and yanking her towards him. It took all her willpower not to puke from the wretched smell.

He roughly clapped his hand over her mouth and harshly whispered into her ear. "I can smell the magic on you." His breath was hot on her ear and made her squirm. "I've heard you witches are wild under the sheets."

Azrael's eyes went wide and her mind started racing. Her hands were still firmly gripped on the handle of the pot. In a split second without thinking she shattered the clay pot on the side of the man's face. He let out an angry growl but didn't let go of her.

"You'll pay for that bitch."

Think. Think. Think.

He pulled her roughly into the alleyway and shoved her up against the wall. Her shoulders scraped against the brick. She screamed but it was muffled by his hand pressed tightly against her mouth. "Stop squealing like a pig. It's not ladylike." He cursed under his breath and looked up with eyes full of lust. "Are you going to cooperate?"