The room beyond the white door was circular and large, maybe as large as the Mirror Room where her uncle kept the Black Night Balls, Astrid mused.

She let her eyes slide across the bright, shiny floor, rise to the torches burning in the sconces set around the perimeter of the chamber high on the walls, under the small windows which didn't allow enough of the pearlescent light to seep in from the outside to banish the room's gloom. Then she looked to the narrow, stone balcony with a waist-high, elaborate balustrade that encompassed the chamber like a ring-- it was filled with black-clad figures, instead of the musicians it would accommodate if this was her uncle's castle.

Astrid gasped at the sight of the number of fallen angels who came to witness her audience with the archangel, there were scores of them, standing silent and motionless, looking eerie in the insufficient, moving light... Her head spun, the scent of their invisible burned wings was overpowering. And yet it was different from Azrael's; she would recognise his perfume among thousands of them...

"Don't think about them," Azrael muttered, squeezing her hand tighter and she could see a smile caused by her thoughts in his eyes as she looked at him, even as a low murmur spread through the ranks of the fallen angels, a reaction either to her thoughts, or their joined hands.

Azrael's head snapped towards the balcony then as if someone called him, making Astrid burn with curiosity if it was Evangeline speaking in his mind-- she could see her well among the others, one of the very few women, the most beautiful without any doubt... But then she saw another one of the angels shaking his arm out, a man she had seen before but could not recall his name, sending two doves flying towards Azrael.

Thank you, Camael, Azrael thought, welcoming the doves who cooed happily at the reunion with their master on his shoulder. Is there any news from outside?

Camael shrugged. Our problems, not yours. Safe return home to you. But the girl, Azrael, will suffer... We'll look after her for you as well as we can, but...

A sudden nervous commotion ran through the ranks of angels, disturbing their conversation, making Azrael turn his head towards the opposite wall where a door, as white as the walls and perfectly invisible until then, opened suddenly, allowing a great surge of dazzling light spill into the room, rendering the burning torches obsolete.

Astrid, who had been distracted by the two doves appearing on Azrael's shoulder, reminding her of her days in the castle long before anything of what had led her to being here today happened, turned fast towards the light, staggering on her feet as it blinded her.

Azrael wrapped his arm promptly around her waist, inviting her to lean into him for support. He didn't care what the archangel would say to this display of affection, he didn't want to be removed from her, he would not let it happen whatever it cost him.

Another wave of excited murmur followed his thoughts from the multitude of fallen angels; he didn't shield his thoughts about the girl from them, hoping for their support. As if it could change anything. The only thing that mattered now was the archangel's opinion. But not even he could do what Azrael wanted to ask of him, there were rules they all had to follow, and there was no reason why Michael should be tempted to change them for him, or for the demon regent's niece. Everyone knew how much Michael despised Arcturus; it was surprising that he agreed to meet the girl at all.

He felt her arm wrap around his waist and pulled her closer as the archangel stopped a few feet in front of them, looking scary in all his intimidating glory. Azrael could see that he wanted to make an impression on the human girl, the first human who was brought to Oblivis to speak to him, and he had succeeded-- Azrael could feel her tremble as she dared to look in his face once she got used to the light emanating from him.

Astrid felt awed. She could see the archangel's face clearly, and yet she couldn't grasp what he looked like, his features eluded her, she would never recognise him again should she meet him somewhere else. The only thing she was sure about was that he was breathtakingly beautiful, his eyes two orbs of the purest aquamarine, his hair a halo of golden curls falling to his shoulders. And despite her fear of the powers and magic she could feel emanating from his tall and gracious figure, she couldn't think of him as the villain who would take Azrael away from her any minute now, and then wage war against her kingdom, not when he had... the most magnificent pair of snow-white wings hovering behind him, making him look... as harmless and sweet as Azrael's doves... She couldn't prevent the giggle from escaping her lips at the thought, followed by a furious blush, which she hid into Azrael's cloak.

Azrael had to bite his lip when he saw the reaction to that giggle and the girl's thoughts on Michael's face, before he collected himself and glared towards the balcony, silencing the excited whispers reaching them from there.

"Who are you and what do you want from me, speak, child!" the archangel ordered, his voice thundering around them.

Azrael took a deep breath, ready to defend her. This audience didn't start well, and if she couldn't find the strength to stand up to Michael, which the archangel was most likely hoping for, it would be over before...

Astrid pulled away from him, scattering his thoughts, surprising him just as she surprised the other fallen angels, watching them from above with bated breaths.

With one last glance into his eyes, full of love and longing and acceptance of whatever she would be asked to do for a glimmer of hope that this wasn't their last moment together, she walked a few steps in front of him, then stopped, facing the archangel all alone.

"I'm Astrid, the future Queen of Eurovea, the niece of Regent Arcturus. I'm here as my uncle's ambassador, coming to propose a new treaty to stop the Black Nights..."

Michael's laughter disturbed the flow of memorised words, confusing her. "That was impressive. How could you even remember those lines with all the other things and feelings," his eyes flickered between her and Azrael, "raging in your mind. You've been through a lot for one so young. But you have nothing to offer to us, nothing that could possibly stop the fallen angels from trying to get their wings..."

"The moment I'm crowned, I'll make it possible for them to live in Eurovea, accepted by the society. They won't have to hide..."

"Life in your country instead of the return to Heaven?" Michael asked, and despite not being able to focus on the details of his face, she was sure that his eyebrows were raised in a sign of contempt for her simple offer. She could feel his eyes linger on her face for a moment too long, as if he was drawn to her for a reason he didn't understand, by a memory he could not grasp, before he looked towards the fallen angels crowded on the balcony. "Anybody interested in the future queen's offer?"

"It is a good offer, an offer that will bring the much needed change, and many improvements..." Rigel's voice reached Astrid's ears, giving her a shot of courage before it was silenced.

"What about you, Azrael? What is your part in this story, how do you dare to bring humans to Oblivis?" Michael asked, as his eyes found the fallen angel standing behind Astrid, ready to support her in any way she might need. "Let's see..."

Azrael felt the archangel invading his thoughts and memories, but he didn't try to block him. His defiance wouldn't help Astrid.

"You..." Michael asked incredulously after a while, "killed her demon fiancé, thus causing a new war. Nonetheless, it was your last demon..." Michael shook his head, and Azrael assumed the guilt of the war without hesitation, hoping someone would silence Ramiel, whose words just reached him, before he got into trouble pointlessly. It didn't matter which one of them gave Arcturus the reason to start the new war.

"And... she loves you despite that?" Michael continued, oblivious to the murmuring fallen angels, looking stunned as he turned to Astrid and dived into her thoughts.

Astrid stared back at the archangel, feeling him leaf through her mind. She couldn't stop him, but she didn't mind; she wasn't ashamed of her love for Azrael. She hoped that it would soften the archangel's heart...

"No, it won't," Michael replied to her thoughts, his eyes scanning her face and mind, looking for something... "Here, your wings, angel of death."

A gracious wave of his arm followed the words, and when Astrid turned around, following the archangel's look, she saw Azrael transform in front of her very eyes. A pair of magnificent wings grew from his shoulders, his clothes changing colour gradually, as if someone spilt a bucket of paint above his head, until he was clad in pure, dazzling white, like Michael.

"Is he the only one to claim his wings today?" Michael continued, his words addressed to those on the balcony sounding like an announcement rather than a question. "Everybody out then, except for these two."

Astrid could feel the archangel's look on her again, asking, searching, but she didn't meet his eyes, she tried to find Rigel on the balcony and waved at him when she did, before her eyes intercepted a silent exchange between Evangeline and Azrael, a goodbye of sorts, which she didn't care to witnesses.

She turned back to the archangel then and met his eyes, her curiosity about his intrigue in her growing while the fallen angels filed out of the chamber, vanishing in a murmur of their long gowns and cloaks brushing against the balustrade and the stone floor under their feet.