Court of Sunder (Age of Angels #2) - Milana Jacks Page 0,19

but that seemed unlikely since Mary Ann brought clothes right after he’d left. She could’ve brought the food and towels.

I assumed he’d leave me in the Exile with clothes and a knife. But what if he wouldn’t? What if he felt responsible for me and would take me with him to Sunder City? And what if I misread his fondness as fatherly when, in fact, he looked at me as a woman? I didn’t know. Lord Raphael, like the commander, proved difficult to read.

Before dawn, I dressed in the civilian clothes Mary Ann had left for me on the desk, a long black dress and a black sweater with new boots. The outfit came with a purple scarf. I threaded the soft silk through my fingers, thinking that a soldier couldn’t wear another Court’s color. Loyalty to one’s Court fed my family and had been feeding us as long as I could remember. While I’d disobeyed the commander’s orders when I fed Raphael, I was not a traitor to my Court. Or at least that was what I told myself.

Torn over what to do with the subtle gesture I was certain Lord Raphael had made with the scarf, I tucked it into the pocket of the skirt, which flared out rather nicely. I left the room in search of breakfast. The broth from last night had barely filled my belly. The steep steps made me lift my skirt so I didn’t trip, and I made a mental note to seek out new clothes as soon as possible. While the skirt flared out in an extravagant fashion, it was impractical for a soldier on the road.

White stone dust covered the wooden stairs, and as I stepped down them, it scattered, landing on my boots. I looked up to see the cracked stone ceiling. An earthquake? I bent and swiped my finger over the tip of one boot. Hm. As I rose, the mirror nailed on the wall caught my eye. I leaned in closer.

My brown eyes seemed lighter, taking on a…a deep violet hue. My face positively glowed, and the scar above my eyebrow from when I’d pierced it and Mom had freaked out and made me take the metal stud out had disappeared. I swore I looked like a pretty, polished doll, and somehow younger. No wonder. Bathing in those waters and receiving Lord Raphael’s attention would do that to a girl. Traitor.

In violent protest of hunger, my belly grumbled loud enough to wake the dead. I set out for the kitchens. Last night, I thought he’d kiss me. Not a full-on tongue kiss, but a kiss nevertheless. Not to mention, I imagined his sinfully perfect body poised over mine, and I wished he’d dropped on top of me and moved inside me, made me moan and plead for more pleasure. I would beg for that. Oh yes, I would, and it would be so good. Traitor.

I cleared my throat and kept moving. He hadn’t slept in the room last night, which bothered me more than it should. I had no claim to or business with an angel, any angel, and most certainly not the Sunder Court’s lord.

Having reached the bottom of the steps, I walked into the bar. Drinks still in hands, the patrons slept in their chairs. Some sprawled over the tables, others leaning back, hats over their faces to block the incoming light. They must’ve had a long night. “Mary Ann,” I called out, then walked behind the bar, looking for her.

In the back of the bar, I found a small kitchen, but no Mary Ann. Shrugging, I picked up fresh fruit and grain. I ate at the prep table and cleaned up before leaving to go back up the stairs. But the sight of Mary Ann stopped me. To the left of the staircase, she sat at a table, one breast out, feeding a baby. She didn’t look up as I approached.

I sat with her, gaze on the baby, who had a little blue hat on his head. “Good morning, Mary Ann. I helped myself to breakfast. If you need help in the kitchen, I could work. I’m a good cook, and I’m looking for a place to stay.” She stared ahead. I said, “I could also protect you.”

Nothing. Okay, maybe I sucked at peopling with strangers, or maybe I should have made friends with her last night instead of staking a claim on Lord Raphael. The suckling baby drew my attention to him, and I