Page 101 of First Offense

“That’s not what I mean,” she said. “I think he’s right aboutyou.”

“Me?” I asked, frowning. “What about me?”

“Will you keep me on this pedestal forever? Always waiting for my wings to shift back? Is that the only way I’ll be worthy in your eyes?”

“Layla, that’s not—”

“I Fell because I rejected some suitors who didn’t smell like you,” she continued, taking another step away from me. “Or that’s the best theory we have, anyway. And if it’s true, I’m not sure I want to reform. Because it implies that I have no choice in my future, no true free will. What kind of life is that? Am I meant to serve my position as queen like some pretty ornament?”

My throat worked without sound, my mind too busy dissecting her statement.

Something about it struck me in the gut, my mind whirring through each phrase and trying to discern what had given me pause.

She likely Fell because she rejected some suitors.

Suitors her father had selected for her.

His edict being the reason she was to entertain all the prospects and provide a respectful front.

But as queen, wouldn’t those edicts become hers? Wouldn’t she be the one in charge of the rules? Which would imply that she could break them at will without risking the Fall because the laws would change with her.

I shook my head, trying to clear the convoluted web forming in my mind.

Except… I was onto something.

How could a future queen Fall if the rules were always hers to command?

Unless our theory on how she Fell was just completely wrong. However, what else could she have done? This was Layla. Beautiful, innocent, mostly polite Layla. She couldn’t touch a hair on another being’s head unless they meant to hurt her in kind. And even then, I’d seen her wince during that culling. She hadn’t wanted to harm anyone.

I might have spent the last few years away from her, but these last few weeks had told me this female was the same one I’d left behind. My instincts screamed at the wrongness of her feathers.

She shouldn’t be here.

Just like she’d said from the very beginning.

She didn’t deserve this.

Yet she stood before me wrapped in a cloak of black plumes, her sapphire eyes blazing with power. She wasn’t sad or feeling sorry for herself. She was angry. As she should be, because if there was no honest way to reform, then this entire incarceration was a sham.

Did her father know? Or had he sent her here innocently, expecting her to return with white wings?

What had Sayir told him? What exactly had Sefid asked his brother to do?

We had none of these answers, only a myriad of questions. And Novak stating that no matter how hard he tried—of which I had no doubt he spoke the truth—he hadn’t been able to earn back the Nora favor.

So he’d embraced the darkness.

Would I accept Layla doing the same? Or would I force her to keep trying? Forever maintaining her higher regard, demanding she return to the Nora way of life.

What sort of future did she have as a Noir?

And further, if she wasn’t meant for me, then why did she still smell so good, despite her change in status? Shouldn’t she reek like a wet dog, similar to the others?

Same with Novak. Why did he still smell soright?

Noir were supposed to be vile, evil angels, all deserving of their punishments.

But for the life of me, I couldn’t see how Layla or Novak deserved any of this.