Page 81 of Glass Wings
Roksana looked up at him. Surprise flickered in her eyes briefly before she turned her head away from him.
“It’s a pity you didn’t come a week or two later. This town comes alive when the Christmas market gets set up,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, the sound of fists hitting noses distracting.
“Do you know these two?” Arryn asked as casually as ever, while Roksana scoffed at the question.
“You know me, I have a single drink, and every man in the damn town goes wild with jealousy or whatnot.” She crossed her arms, looking down at her feet, and Arryn understood. He understood that her gifts of amplifying emotion were often not something she controlled. It was something that just happened when she walked near you.
“I just needed to get out of the house. My damn sister has been driving me crazy with all of her wild rantings. It makes sense now that you’re here. I imagine that everything that she’s been saying is all about you.”
Arryn perked up at that as the sound of a crunch signified the winner in the fight. One of the men was now bent over, holding his face in his hands and moaning. The other walked right up to Roksana, looking at her like she was his prize.
“Let’s go,” she said to Arryn, leaving the heartsick human gapingat her as they walked down the path and onto the road to hail a cab, a car pulling up within a minute.
Roksana gave the driver, a middle-aged man, some paper bills and driving directions, speaking French. The vehicle started to move.
“I’ve never been in one of these,” Arryn said.
“In a taxicab?” Roksana blinked at him.
“In a car.”
Roksana let a few minutes pass of silence between the two of them before she looked back over at him, her expression one of annoyance.
“God, you’re boring.” She rolled her eyes and relaxed low in her seat for the next fifteen minutes.
Arryn noticed they were back in the countryside, passing estates with family homes protected by large, soft green trees. The cab turned into a driveway and stopped moments later, letting them out at a home that seemed opulent for just two women to live there alone.
The gravel crunched beneath his boots as they approached the large, arched front door. It opened, groaning from its own weight, and revealing a cavernous foyer bathed in the moonlight. Gothic glass chandeliers were suspended from the high ceiling—Arryn counted four of them.
“I’m going to bed,” Roksana said, her boots echoing on the shiny stone flooring. “Find yourself a room. There are plenty of them. I’m sure you’ll find what you need.”
She ascended the staircase in front of them and began walking down the upper hall as her twin sister came into view, walking right up to Arryn with a smile.
“Don’t let her fool you—she loves you dearly,” Precession said.
“I heard that,” Arryn chucked at the distant sound of Roksana’s threatening voice.
Precession was always so warm, so frail. She was the complete opposite of her sister. Roksana spent most of her life and energy protecting the Kinnari that stood in front of him, the very Kinnari that he came there to see. She was dressed in dark blue silk pajamas, her hair long and wild flowing down her back.
“I’m glad you came,” Precession said, her eyes beginning to glaze over as her powers were continuously in use, constantly draining her energy to keep the world as it was.
“Let me show you to your room. We have some things to discuss.” She slumped, unable to carry her weight as she put one foot in front of the other, leading Arryn out of the foyer.
Once down a wide-open hallway on the first floor, Precession stopped at the door and opened it to present to Arryn. Before entering, he turned to her, offering his arm in support. She took it without hesitation, steadying herself and regaining any strength she had available. Arryn struggled to imagine her flying when she was in this state, tethering the moon to the Earth.
“We will talk tomorrow,” she instructed, sensing Arryn’s impatience. “Now, we both must rest.”
Arryn awokethe following day in a single bed that he was too big for, but damn, was the mattress comfortable. His body sank into it, and his skin caressed the gentlest cotton quilt. The room was charming, quaint, and far more simple than the exterior of this small palace. He appreciated that about the French; it was nothing too outrageous, yet pride in family, history, and the quality of materials shone through.
He had slept in only underwear, having arrived here in his heavy snow attire and nothing else. A vintage wicker chair sat in the far southwest corner of the room underneath a large, stained glass window. Flickers of red and blue danced along the corner from the morning’s dazzling sun, and in the chair sat a simple change of clothes.
Arryn sighed in relief. To be taken care of again lifted the world's weight off of his chest. The feeling of warmth, care, and love was something he had been missing. Even when he went through his bouts of depression and sold himself into servitude, he often madefriends and formed relationships. This portion of his life had been entirely alone.
He kicked his feet out of the blankets, stood, toes cold against a blue tile floor, and moved to get dressed. Today, he wanted answers, so he knew what to do next. He was done waiting. Allienna would not return to him, but maybe he could find her now if his child had been discovered.
Arryn put the long-sleeved knitted wool sweater on. It was the lightest of grays, which contrasted against the charcoal thin-cut pants made out of a flexible, waterproof fabric. He then walked out of the room, moving through the large hallways as if he were a ghost haunting the space.
It was empty and quiet. Large portraits of child ballerinas and lush green, ethereal landscapes decorated the walls between the panes of glass, showcasing the gardens outside.
