>>6029592The angel of Ansàrra shakes her bald head as she touches the grass. Around her feet, the grass seems to grow greener. Her huge glass wings crinkle and creak like grinding ice, each of the shards that make up her ‘feathers’ glowing a dark red, like the mouth of a furnace, thick drops of crimson blood bubbling and sifting at the bottom of each shard. The sunlight scatters vermillion around the three of them, like behind a curtain of stained glass from one of the Holy Land’s many cathedrals.
She is naked, like the Stilladìa, but her body is much more voluptuous than hers. Not for the first time, a treacherous and primal part of her tugs at the strings of her mind, demanding she’d call the armageddon of thirty thousand five hundred sixty — seven — souls can.
Though, seriously, at this point she might just call Bradiamante out…
No.
She will behave and hold back her basest instincts.
Still, she does rub Helias’ fingers a tad more insistingly as the Angel of Ansàrra finally opens her mouth.
“I did not come here for tea,” she replies. Hesitates, a glint going off in her gilded eyes. “But I appreciate the offer, Helias Artista.”
“It shall stand for the next time, when it will happen. If,” he graciously adds.
If she could, she’d jump to hug him. He’s so smooth. He’s definitely not going to sleep in his own quarters tonight.
At last, she addresses her.
“We have been investigating the area you two suggested. There may be indeed be activity tied to the Seven Sisters there.”
The Stilladìa nods. Of course they were right. Helias was the one who suggested it they’d inform Carnaval as well.
She had been opposed to it, but… the place was so close to Madua. They would have a much easier time investigating it on their own.
“If that is so, we ought to prepare. I shall send—”
“No need to,” Carnaval grins, showing her glistening smile. “I have already sent an advanced team to explore the area and report.” She pauses. “One of them is a promising young candidate, Salicera Fors.”
The Stilladìa feels like shrugging. Why was her pleasant teatime with her beloved interrupted because Carnaval wants to inform her of all the names of their ladies-in-wait?
“Ah, and there is also one who is believed to be in cahoots with you,” she adds, her grin growing sharper. “Argia Candente.”
[cont.]
