The staircase was a gruelling spiral that was marginally less taxing than running through a maze of shattered wood planks chocked with silt.

Rubies, sapphires and exotic gems Two could not name speckled the light fixtures. Two noticed them twinkling under the lamplight on her third sporal round the staircase. She’d stopped caring by the twentieth.

She had other concerns. “So I’m to meet him now?”

“Yes, girl. That’s the third time you’ve asked don’t let there be a fourth.” Evadney’s large ears twitched in irritation. “It is very simple take him where he wants to go, answer his question and be the good young lady you’ve shown yourself to be.”

Two, a good young lady. She was glad the woman she was behind the older lady. She suspected she’d be cuffed around the ear if they saw the blank stare she shot them.

“Any other advice?” Two did her best to put a smile on her voice.

“If you ‘need’ instruction.” Two could not smell a rolled eye but the servants’ tone was more than enough. “Then avoid bringing up last night’s kerfuffle. I’ve heard whispers that Salen’s heir was abducted. Can you believe it!” Evadney left a pause and after a moment of confusion, Two filled it with a suitable gasp.

“No…”

“But indeed! Now I think you can imagine what happened to the ruffians in question.”The old woman slowed down to whisper in her ear. Conspiracy shrouded their tone but it was a playful thing.“Rumour has it the angels were involved and while it’s sweet to picture, them galavanting off to save the hapless maiden. It doesn’t paint us in the best light that we have maidens in need of saving.”

Evadney skipped ahead like a woman decades younger and Two checked to confirm they weren’t a cultivator. “So don’t make it worse.”

After yet more turns of the spiral the stairs ended. She found herself in a wide room. Large glass windows consumed one of the long walls, and through it was a chandelier the size of a house. The crystal monstrosity shone with the brilliance of a hundred lamps. Scattered and bounced through the crystals clear and reflective until they looked closer to a thousand. Two turned away before she could wonder what excess lurked below it.

She followed Evadney through one of many doors occupying the opposite wall and was soon lost in a slow descent of yet more stairs and winding halls. Though these were of familiar grey, if still indulgently carved. Just when she was beginning to wonder if Evadney had misconceptions on what ‘first floor’ meant they passed through a door and into sunlight and rustling green.

“This is one of the manor’s private entrances.” Evadney said and was back through the door like a whisper.” You are to return here when the emissary is done.” And was left Two in a walled garden, with the angel she was meant to guide. While the old lady’s amusement drifted away in the breeze.

Most places in Spes Nova were beautiful. The markets were rich and bustling, fresh paint-decorated stones carved by hands millennia old. The slums too had beauty before their abandonment. The appeal of moss crowding forgotten relics. She loved it and wished she’d had more time to appreciate it.

So it was no surprise that the garden was magnificent. Its trees tall and flowers vibrant. But it was strange how well he fit.

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He sat on a bench beneath a tree, idly watching a bird as it hopped between the branches above him. His wings splayed about him like an indulgent blanket that would not look out of place on the governor’s shoulder. Rays of light pierced through the treetop. As if the sun itself were trying to get a peek at him.

Angels were awesome things, so the stories said and so Ske had seen. But awe had two sides, that of wonder and terror. The white angels and the judging eye. Was that true of the mystery before her?

She hoped not, it felt wrong.

“Why do you stare?” he glanced at her, anticipation burned in his grey eyes but Two couldn’t find an answer.

It was like trying to explain why dawn was beautiful or how rain’s rhythm soothed. How did you convey that? How did you tell someone they evoked such feeling? She considered playing dumb but the stories said angels loathed deceivers and looking at him she couldn’t bring herself to lie over something so small.

She had little experience in honest conversation. Constant lying had ensured that. She tried nonetheless. “You’re like a question? One I never thought to ask.” That felt true, but it was missing something. Two thought and the angel waited, until a shade of understanding came to her, “ But, at the same time you are an answer on the tip of my tongue. A delightful unknown…” she trailed off but his smile urged her to continue, “waiting to be explored”

She took a deep breath and pushed aside any embarrassment she might’ve felt.

The air was crisp and clean, floral flavours reached her and the distant flux of the city’s inhabitants was an indecipherable hum of sound and essence. A cool mist blew past her. Expect there was no mist, the sun was far too high for that.

The angel returned to bird watching and considered her answer. Two cursed in the privacy of the mind as she realized she couldn’t taste his essence. It was there, she could it but it slipped from her tongue before she could hope to parse it. The ghost of something cool was left behind, of mist. She was forced to rely on her inferior senses.

The angel rose silently, and Two remembered how large he was. He was half again as tall as her and the sheer weight of feathers on one of his wings could topple her. Something his size shouldn’t walk with soulless steps. It was eerie, it was intriguing.

Two craned her neck up as he closed. A police refrain on her face and Evandey’s advice close at hand.

“You are to be my guide?”

“Yes sir.” She said and shrouded herself in polite formality.

His eyes searched her and her new mask felt like paper, but it was not a cruel dissection. Rather he took her in, admiring her as he’d admired the singing bird. Two suppressed the sudden urge to fidget.

Then he turned away and she could breathe again. Two followed him through the tree lined garden path. “Your name is Two?”

“Yes sir.”

They passed through a gate guarded by men clad in blue and gold and stepped onto the streets of the noble district. Tall manours and public works of all kinds were hers to see. Every shred of this place was a statement carved in stone by the hands of artisans. Singing the praises of those with the wealth and power, to dwell in this refined place. None so loud as the governor’s three tiered tower, but each building and roadside statue was a small masterpiece.

Two was conscious of her borrowed clothes.

“Two could you lead me to somewhere you find familiar, a place you find comfortable, interesting.”

“I can sir but I warn you that they will not be glamorous.”

“Will it be like last night?” He hummed in what she hoped was a poor joke.

Though she wondered how long he lingered before he… coalesced. How much had he seen? “Not that bad sir.” She said confidently and scrambled for a place in her memory tor a place that fit.

Two stepped ahead of him and turned her thoughts towards navigating the unfamiliar streets and ignoring the looks of rich passerbys and their attendants.

“Two,”

“Yes sir.”

“While we walk could you tell me about yourself? I would to understand your people more. I want to understand those who died. I know what to know what brought you to such a life.” His words were a whisper and despite the bright day a chill came upon her.

Two remained quiet for a time. Her steps quietly clapped unto time polished stone and Two considered a world where she didn’t answer. In her fantasy the angel let it slide and all was well for a time but her disobedience inevitably reached Lancet. Consequences were swift. Two stole a small breath for her calm. Drinking the essences of those that pass, drinking mist. His footfalls were absent but she knew he was just behind her.

Two opened her mouth, and was stopped dead in her tracks.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Her heart caught in her throat. “Yes.” She said and gated herself for that fact. Her thoughts should be hers, her feelings her reasons her doubts and pains. But she’d let slip, and she loathed that fact.

“I will not impinge on your privacy. I only want to understand why. I won’t force you to give me details.” And she lathed how that was a balm to her shame.

It was a choice in a world that stripped them of her. Respect when he could so easily have her bow. She didn’t suppress her appreciation. With a great effort she shook loose her pride and doubt. She let herself be thankful. Allowed herself to accept the stories were true. Angels were good. She just couldn’t yet bring herself to believe he could be good to her.

She was quiet for a time, but when she spoke it was without restraint.