Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13) - Nalini Singh Page 0,47

and bravery, had thought Aegaeon a lucky man to have such a son.

“Archangel, I did not wish to anger you.” The headman was a pasty brown from how his blood had rushed to his feet—quite a feat with skin as dark as theirs.

Titus refused to look at Sharine. “I’m not angry at you,” he said, every muscle in his body locked to stone hardness. “I’m angry at that piss-stain upon the earth that you once called your archangel.” He wasn’t about to withhold his punches; it wasn’t as if humankind didn’t already know of the enmity between him and Charisemnon.

“I don’t want your children or your women—any who wish to apply for a position in my citadel of their own free will are welcome to do so once your village no longer needs their assistance to survive.” He crushed the metal of his tankard, barely noticing the damage. “I don’t need or want young girls to warm my bed. I have plenty of women lining up to do the same.”

Stop. Stop. Your modesty overwhelms.

Truly, she’d been sent to torment him. It’s not bravado or conceit when it’s the truth.

To the headman, he said, “Does that answer your question?”

The headman’s eyes were wet and shining as he rose with Titus. Once up, he bowed so deeply that Titus was afraid he would tip right over. Instinct had him reaching out to catch the man’s shoulder, say, “There’s no need for that. We have shared ale. You have lived to be a graybeard and you have learned wisdom with it.”

Though this man was but a fraction of Titus’s age, human lives moved at a different speed, and so there were things the headman understood that Titus didn’t and wouldn’t for eons more.

It made him wonder what Sharine had experienced over her long immortal lifetime, the lessons she’d learned . . . the bruises she carried.

She came to stand at his side at that instant, an expression on her face that he couldn’t quite comprehend. Since not asking her questions did nothing to keep her mild and content, he decided he might as well ask her to explain—and he would, once they were alone. Which they soon were, their good-byes short before they lifted off.

Titus let Sharine go first so that she wouldn’t be buffeted by the draft created by his more powerful wings. “What?” he said once they were back on their flight path. “Have I grown a second head?”

“No,” she said after a penetrating glance. “Let’s just say I find myself surprised at your capacity for certain kinds of understanding.”

As far as backhanded compliments went, it was one of the best ever inflicted on Titus; even Nala would be hard-pressed to better it, and his sister was renowned for her acerbic wit. Nala didn’t talk much, but when she did, she made an impact. “How do you think I look after my territory? By being a reckless brute?”

“Such a course of action certainly seemed to have worked for Charisemnon.”

Titus went to reply then shut his mouth. She was right. Charisemnon had ruled with brute power much of the time—but that hadn’t been all of him.

“Much as I’d like for him to be remembered as a vicious idiot, he had a kind of cunning that I will never possess.” A simple truth. “Charisemnon could manipulate his people in ways I find difficult to comprehend. Though he took their children, their daughters far too innocent and young to be in a man’s bed, they revered him.

“Even in the headman’s village, there will be some who think of him as the right kind of archangel, of me as too rough and unrefined in comparison to his sophistication. The horrors of war and the reborn have torn the veil from most eyes, but why did it take so long? Why, for such a long part of his reign, was he worshipped as a god?”

“Because they had no choice.” Sharine’s voice ran over him like water, silken and bitingly cold at once. “He was a being of devastating power—as you are a being of devastating power; they had no avenue of appeal. Either they lived under his rule and found a way to rationalize it—or they died, likely tortured and broken.”

“That isn’t true!” Titus raged. “They could’ve crossed the border to me.”

“Leaving behind all they ever knew? Leaving behind their families? All the while with no way of knowing if you were any different?” Nothing cold or edgy in her tone this time, rather a poignant