Chapter nine: hunting Angelina
Meanwhile, in Arcadia's council chamber, tension thick enough to cut filled the room.
Michael stood at the head of the table, his wings folded tightly against his back—a sign of barely controlled emotion. Around him sat the governors of all the states under Arcadia's rule, along with Raphael and several military commanders.
Ariel's chair was conspicuously empty.
"The situation is clear," Michael began, his voice hard. "My daughter has betrayed us. She freed the devil and now conspires with him in Cinderfall."
"With all due respect, Archangel," Governor Cassiel spoke up, his voice still weak from his recent injuries, "we have no proof that Angelina freed Lothaire willingly. She could be his prisoner."
"Our scouts report otherwise," Raphael interjected, standing. "They've observed her moving freely through Cinderfall. Training in magic. Attending his councils. These are not the actions of a captive."
Murmurs rippled through the council.
"Perhaps she's been enchanted," another governor suggested. "The devil is known for his manipulations."
"Or perhaps," Michael said quietly, "the prophecy is already coming true. Perhaps my daughter is exactly what we feared she would become."
Silence fell.
"You're talking about Melione," Cassiel said slowly. "The destroyer from the old prophecies."
Michael nodded. "For twenty-two years, I've tried to prevent this. I suppressed her powers. I arranged a marriage that would bind her abilities. I did everything to protect her from her own destiny." His hands clenched. "But destiny, it seems, cannot be avoided."
"Then what do you propose?" a military commander asked.
"War," Raphael answered. "We march on Cinderfall. We capture or eliminate Angelina before the prophecy can be fulfilled. And we re-imprison Lothaire."
More murmurs. Some nodded in agreement. Others looked uncertain.
"She's your daughter!" Cassiel protested. "Michael, surely there's another way—"
"There is no other way!" Michael's fist slammed on the table. The room shook with divine power. "Do you think I want this? Do you think this doesn't tear my heart apart? But I am the Archangel. I am the protector of these realms. And I will not let sentiment cloud my duty."
His eyes swept the room. "The prophecy states that when Melione awakens, the realms will fall. My daughter's powers are manifesting. She stands with the devil. How much clearer does it need to be?"
"When do we march?" a commander asked.
"Five days," Raphael said. "We need time to mobilize fully. Ramiel and the ogres have agreed to join us—they want revenge on Lothaire for the wedding humiliation."
"Five days," Michael confirmed. "We'll hit Cinderfall with everything we have. Primary objective: capture or kill Angelina. Secondary: re-imprison Lothaire. Tertiary: eliminate any demon who stands in our way."
"And if Angelina surrenders?" Cassiel asked quietly. "If she comes willingly?"
Michael's expression didn't change. "Then she'll be tried for treason. But I suspect the devil won't let her go without a fight."
The council voted. The decision was unanimous—except for Cassiel, who abstained.
As the meeting adjourned, Garrett, who'd been standing quietly as Cassiel's physician, felt his heart sink. He'd watched Angelina grow up. He'd taught her medicine, helped her when she felt useless as a late bloomer.
And now her own father had just signed her death warrant.
In the hallway outside the council chamber, Seraphina waited nervously. She'd been trying for days to get information about Angelina, but everyone refused to speak to her.
When she saw Raphael, she hurried forward.
"Prince Raphael," she called out, her voice trembling slightly. "Please—have you heard anything about Angelina? Is she alive? Is she safe?"
Raphael stopped, his expression hardening. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.
"You shouldn't concern yourself with traitors, Seraphina."
The word hit her like a slap. "She's not a traitor! You know Linnie. She would never—"
"What I know," Raphael cut her off, his voice cold, "is that she freed the devil and now stands with him in Cinderfall. That's all that matters."
"But what if she was forced?" Sera's voice rose desperately. "What if he's holding her captive? Using magic to control her?"
Raphael's expression softened slightly, a crack in his armor. "If that were true, we'd rescue her. But our intelligence suggests otherwise. She's... cooperating with him. Willingly."
"I don't believe it."
"Believe what you want." His voice turned firm again. "But stay out of this, Seraphina. The council has made its decision. In five days, we march on Cinderfall. And when we do, anyone who stands with the devil will be considered an enemy."
He looked at her meaningfully, and Sera realized it was a warning. A kindness, even.
"Don't be foolish enough to get involved," Raphael continued, his voice dropping lower. "Your family has already suffered enough. Your father nearly died. Don't give your sisters another reason to mock you."
He walked away, leaving Sera standing alone in the marble corridor.
Her hands trembled at her sides. Five days. They would march in five days. And from the way Raphael spoke, they weren't planning a rescue mission.
They were planning an execution.
Sera closed her eyes, and for the first time in her life, she made a decision entirely her own. Not what her father wanted. Not what her sisters expected. Not even what was safe.
She would warn Angelina. Even if it cost her everything.
***
Back in Cinderfall, in Lothaire's throne room, the atmosphere was tense.
Lothaire sat on his throne, flanked by Logan on one side. Around the room stood his inner circle—demon generals, advisors, and notably, Ronan, who had just arrived from Dis.
Ronan was tall and lean, with sharp features and calculating gray eyes. Where Logan was a warrior, Ronan was a strategist. He studied the room with the precision of someone who saw patterns where others saw chaos.
And then there was Angelina.
She sat in a chair near the throne—not quite at Lothaire's side, but not relegated to the edges either. Her presence was a statement. The demons watched her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.
"So," Ronan said, his gaze settling on Angelina, "this is the angel who freed you."
"Yes," Lothaire answered curtly.
Ronan circled Angelina slowly, like a scholar examining an interesting specimen. "Fascinating. Your aura is... unusual. Fractured. Like several different magics trying to coexist in one vessel."
Angelina shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Is that bad?"
"That's impossible," Ronan corrected. "Which makes it very interesting." He turned to Lothaire. "I assume this is why you called me back from Dis?"
"Partially. Logan, give the report."