Page 168 of Princess of Bael

Of course, I felt fine now.

I was very ready to find Ezra.

But I would give him time, prove my faith in him, and wait.

You’d better be coming for me, Archangel, I thought.Or I’m going to find where Alastor put that blade and drive it through your heart.

These were the one-sided conversations I’d entertained for the last few months.

He never replied.

Which was fine.

For now.

Yaz left as I dressed for dinner in one of my trademark ruby dresses. My father had procured a whole new wardrobe to accommodate my wings, the colors all reds and blacks and browns—the signature colors of his familial line.

I smoothed my hands over my skirts, then made my way down the residential hall of the palace to the royal staircase. Several guards stood stationary along the way, their vibrant blue robes a stark contrast against the red stone walls.

Royal Guards always wore blue, regardless of their home realm. They were distinguished by the familial crests etched into the breast area of their robes.

I didn’t acknowledge them, my focus on the grand hall and the dining rooms beyond.

My father typically chose the smaller of the three.

The pair of Royal Guards against the wall by the door told me tonight was no different.

I entered and took my usual chair with Johanna across from me and my father at the head. “Daughter,” he greeted.

“Prince Bael,” I returned.

His eyes grinned, amused by my formal address. “How was your day?”

“Boring. Yours?”

“Enlightening,” he replied as he picked up his wine to take a sip of the red liquid.

I didn’t ask him to elaborate.

There wasn’t a point.

If he wanted to tell me what wasenlighteningabout his day, he would.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he shifted to general dinner conversation, boring me with discussion over the food and general inquiries about my power. “Did you practice reading auras like we discussed?” he asked, referring to my enhancing ability to decipher intent from the atmosphere surrounding other beings.

“All the auras in the palace are loyal,” I told him. “Not much to practice on.” But I did wander the grounds to test everyone in my path. They were all the same shades in regard to their intent to protect.

Only a few had boasted a hint of fear.

However, that was standard practice when in the company of an Archdemon—something my wings marked me as being. I hadn’t figured out how to hide them yet. I also didn’t quite know why mine were silky feathers while my father’s resembled bat wings, but he didn’t seem surprised by them.

“Perhaps we’ll arrange a trip to Earth soon so you can test the Dark Provenance auras,” he suggested as he set down his fork. “You mentioned they felt off during your last visit.”

“During my last visit, I was busy repairing the veil with my new powers,” I replied dryly. “I don’t think a lot of what I remember is reliable.”

Everything from that day was fuzzy in my head. I remembered certain bits, like questioning powers traveling through the barrier, and marveling at the myriad of auras in the forest—and the cuffs—but I couldn’t recall specific details or why I’d felt certain ways.