Dove Caught in a Burning Bush Ch. 09

Crucifel's hands went to her face to cover it as she gasped and bit back a sputter of surprised, shameful laughter. "Mirilmen, that is terrible!"

"Really? I think it looks quite elegant. What a demon takes from you, one rarely gets back, so what comes next may as well be beautiful," Mirilmen chortled in reply, seeming pleased with her joke as Crucifel groaned and shook her head.

Another moment passed in silence that felt far less heavy than the first. There was still the worry that her conflicted pleas had been heard, but Mirilmen's calm, warm presence was smoothing that fear down. It wasn't all that much better if she'd instead found her laid out weeping at the feet of her parents' statues, but such a position would at least be more understandable. It wasn't as if her heart still didn't ache at their loss and all of the things they would never be able to experience and reconcile together.

"They were an amazing pair of angels, and I know they would be proud of you,'' Mirilmen spoke up quietly, drawing Crucifel's attention as she stood and dusted her knees off. "I shall leave you to your business, Your Highness. I wish you a peaceful day ahead."

Crucifel watched her go, hands still clasped. The cold blue light of early morning was all but gone now, giving way to clear, warm sunlight that thawed out the world around her. That brief, but much needed intermission with Mirilmen had given her some stability, and the prophetess would cling to it as she went on with her day afterwards.

She appreciated the wish for peace, however, with her mind stabilized there was something else that the angelic princess intended to use that gifted strength on.

Another morning service in the palace's cathedral came and went with hymns, rites and angels whose eyes beheld her with confidence in her role as both their shepherd and sacrifice. They were quickly shuffled into the background of her cognizance for her peace of mind as Crucifel let herself be swept away in the familiar motions.

Promethiel was among the crowd this time, sitting near the front and looking just as regal as ever despite the healing lashes she knew were under his robes.

And, oh, how it burned her to see members of the Council sitting in close arrangement with him. Knowing that they had watched as he whipped himself for hours in apology, even for the offense given to Zirthil, made her blood boil in a way that she was slowly becoming familiar with since her brother's tormenting had begun. So after meeting Promethiel's eyes briefly, catching a curve of the lips that made her spine tickle, she turned her gaze away and sank back into the old grooves of her routine.

She would be having words with Iorifrei later, likely Zirthil too. The whole lot of them would honestly be best. It wasn't her place as Prophetess to meddle with such affairs of the king and his council without first being invited, but she doubted they would be able to find the grounds to stop her from calling them together either.

So for now in the morning glow lighting the cathedral, she was their serene beacon of light, hiding the lines of gathering fire in her veins.