Book 2 of: Whispers Of Desires.
In the kingdoms of Niameda, Althea, and Ivamis, trade ships are mysteriously vanishing without a trace. When Kazi, the General of Niameda, risks her life to save the King of Althea from an assassination attempt, he of...
A knock on the door, startled Kazi as she put on her shoes. She smoothed down her clothes and walked towards the door. Uriel stood outside, her face a mixture of nervousness and urgency.
"Sir K," Uriel began, her voice barely above a whisper, "His Majesty, Prince Azrael...well, he requires your presence."
Kazi raised an eyebrow, "Requires my presence?" she repeated, her voice low and measured. Hadn't Azrael been actively avoiding her since the weird encounter in the courtyard when Ren arrived? Yet the idea of being summoned by him, let alone sharing a single carriage, sent a jolt of excitement through her. She quickly stamped it down, reminding herself of her duty and the mission at hand.
"And what exactly does His Majesty require?" Kazi asked, her voice still measured and controlled. As she spoke, she straightened her shoulders, steeling herself against whatever Azrael might have in store for her. Uriel shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting between Kazi and the floor.
"He...he needs you to accompany him to...the royal opening of the children's orphanage," she finally blurted out, her eyes still downcast.
Kazi's surprise gave a small smile. Azrael, attending a children's orphanage? It was not exactly the picture of princely duty she had in mind. "Very well," she said, "Inform His Majesty that I will be honoured to accompany him."
Uriel curtsied and walked away leaving Kazi alone with her racing thoughts. Part of her felt a bubble of nervous excitement – the prospect of being close to Azrael again, even if under such formal circumstances, was undeniably appealing. But the other, more rational part, urged caution. This was a mission, not a romantic rendezvous.
Taking a deep breath, Kazi walked out of her chambers. She would not let her guard down, not for anything. Not even for a carriage ride with the frustratingly handsome Prince Azrael.
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Minutes later, Kazi arrived at the royal courtyard a carriage awaited them. Azrael stood beside it; his back turned as he spoke to the coachman. Kazi cleared her throat, and he turned, his expression unreadable. He gave her a small nod the bare minimum of acknowledgement before climbing into the carriage.
Kazi followed suit and entered the carriage, sitting opposite of Azrael. There was a tense silence as the carriage pulled away. Azrael leaned back against the seat, his eyes closed, seemingly asleep.
Kazi couldn't help but stare at the man sitting across from her. Even when he slept, he was undeniably attractive. She quickly averted her gaze, reminding herself that this was not the time for such thoughts. "Just duty, Kazi," she whispered to herself, reinforcing the wall she had built around her heart. "Just duty."
The journey stretched on in an awkward silence, interrupted only by the soft clatter of the carriage wheels against the cobblestones and the occasional hushed command from the coachman.
The carriage rolled to a stop, causing Azrael to wake up. He exited the carriage first and Kazi followed suit. She briefly forgot about her concerns and watched Azrael interacting with the children.
Her expectation of an arrogant prince had vanished. Instead, Azrael knelt on the orphanage floor, listening carefully to a small girl's story. his eyes crinkling at the corners. He laughed with a tiny boy as he carefully assisted him in building a flimsy block tower that eventually fell.
Kazi watched him for a while, her heart torn between her duty and the unexpected tenderness she saw before her. He was truly a different man with these children, his arrogance and haughtiness replaced by a genuine warmth and care. It was hard not to be swept away by the contrast.
This loving gesture made the rumours about Azrael—the wild parties, the succession of broken hearts—seem like nothing more than the desperate attempts of courtiers to slander him. Suddenly, a crash shattered the air, drawing everyone's attention. The windows of the orphanage burst inward, scattering glass everywhere.
Before anyone could react, a tiny circular object rolled into the room and exploded into a thick cloud of smoke. Chaos ensued as the children screamed and panicked.
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Pandemonium broke out. With terrified expressions on their faces, the leaders of the orphanage unfolded their hidden wings. Azrael did the same, his wings were white and large, and they flew around trying to help the children find safety.
Kazi felt her heart pounding in her chest. She caught sight of a figure walking towards Azrael through the smoke. She suddenly realised with horror that it was a changeling, bending and twisting in the little light.
"Not again!" shouted Kazi. She quickly noticed that the scissors that were used to cut the ceremonial ribbon were left on the ground. She made a frantic move, snatching the scissors and running after the changeling. The children's frightened cries and the smoke briefly diverted Azrael's attention, and he did not notice the changeling until it was too late. He glanced over in time to witness 'K' plunging the scissors into the changeling's foot.
The sound of the changeling's scream sent shivers down Kazi's spine. With razor-sharp claws, it tore at her shirt as it pounced at her. Kazi tried her best to use the scissors as a dagger, but the changeling was too fast. It knocked the scissors out of her hands and threw her across the room causing her to slam against the wall and drop on the floor, struggling to breath.
Azrael rushed over to where 'K' laid on the floor. He pulled Kazi into his arms, cradling her limp body against his chest. With a burst of energy, he spread his wings creating a dome of protection around them. The changeling screeched; its voice laced with frustration. It launched itself at Azrael's wings, slicing the feathers with its claws. With every stroke, Azrael's wings quivered as he tolerated the pain.
But Azrael would not give up, driven by a strong protectiveness. He felt the changeling's strength weakening, its claws losing their deadly edge. He flung his injured wings powerfully, sending the changeling hurtling backwards. It hit the ground hard, its shape fluttering and contorting before vanishing into a thin trail of smoke that vanished into thin air.
The room fell silent, save for the soft sobs of the children and the laboured breathing of the injured. Slowly, the smoke cleared, revealing the destruction that had been wrought. Shattered glass littered the floor, and several children were huddled together, their small forms trembling with fear. In the centre of it all stood Azrael, his wings spread protectively over the form of the 'K'.
