pledge until her birthright is fulfilled.” His wording was precise and adequate and perfectly planned. They would assume he wanted to help her kill Osiris. And that was exactly what he desired them to think.
“Explain your reasoning,” his father said, playing right into his hand.
“As I reported several decades ago, Osiris funded the CRF project. That project and its proxy leader, Jonathan Fitzgerald, have officially been dismantled—a task Astasiya helped see to fruition. However, the task before her is far greater, and as a result of her involvement with the CRF, he now knows of her existence.”
He allowed that information to settle before adding, “She’s going to require all the assistance available to guide her in the prophecy’s path. To withdraw my pledge could be detrimental to the future.”
More murmurs followed his proclamation, but he kept his focus on Adriel, who continued to give nothing away with his light green eyes.
The only emotion in the room seemed to come from Gabriel. Either his borrowed empathy was waning, or the Seraphim truly felt nothing about the task or his accomplishments.
That didn’t surprise him, even though he felt a small twist in his gut at all he’d done for these beings without even an ounce of gratitude.
“Where is Astasiya?” Tulan asked. “She should have arrived with you, as per the edict.”
“She declined your invitation for a meeting,” he replied flatly.
That garnered a bigger reaction from the crowd, in the flavor of gasps and louder whispers.
His lips threatened to twitch. He swallowed the sensation instead.
“What do you mean, she ‘declined’ our invitation?” Silvia demanded. “One does not deny an edict.”
He nearly pointed out that Osiris denied each and every one of their edicts without a single reprimand, other than to let him continue to flourish on Earth and corrupt humanity.
“She’s a new Seraphim who does not yet understand our ways,” Gabriel replied.
“Then teach her,” Silvia replied, her tone curt.
“She will still refuse to adhere to your command,” he promised.
Silvia’s eyes widened. “Why?”
Thank you so very much for asking, Seraphim Silvia, he thought, pleased. “Because you have her mother in a rehabilitation chamber.”
It was fortunate Vera had provided him with the memory of his father’s visit. His plan before had required him to feign confidence. Now there was nothing fake about his proclamation. He knew they had her.
“While I might agree with the reason behind her mental reprogramming, Astasiya will not,” he continued. “She’s been raised by humans, and her mentality does not align with our way of thought.”
This caused a few of the Seraphim to glance at one another, a trickle of surprise clouding their auras.
Ah, so they can be shocked. Thank you, Clara, for allowing me to witness it. Because without her gift, he would have mistaken their reactions as mere questionable glances. But his inherited empathy allowed him to see through the action and understand the true purpose.
His father’s aura radiated a hint of curiosity.
Meanwhile, Silvia appeared annoyed.
And Tulan was just Tulan—as stoic as usual.
They all sat on the second platform in a row, making it easy to read them. Those on the lowest tier weren’t council members but workers like Cavalina.
Rows upon rows stretched upward in amphitheater-seating-style, with the weakest bloodlines at the back and the oldest and strongest toward the front. From what Gabriel understood, Osiris had organized his Conclave meetings in a similar fashion.
“Are you suggesting we release Caro?” Silvia asked, her thin black brow reaching her equally dark hairline. It was probably the most expressive face he’d ever seen from the millennia-old woman. She’d recently awoken before his birth—after a seven-century-long “nap.” And it wasn’t her first time sleeping off her ancient existence, either.
“If you want Astasiya to learn and accept our ways, then yes. She needs a mentor, and Caro is suitable for that as her mother. That is, assuming she’s fully reformed.” Gabriel added that last bit as a test, curious about his mother’s mental state. He suspected she fought the process, perhaps not outwardly but inwardly. Although, her overall lack of communication with Sethios indicated she might have lost that battle.
More glances were exchanged. Silvia pursed her lips. But his father remained inquisitive, asking, “Do you feel Caro can aid Astasiya on her destined path?”
“I do,” Gabriel replied. “As I said, Astasiya was raised with a mortal mindset. Family is an important value in her life.”
“And where were you while she was being raised by humans?” Silvia inquired.
“In New York City following my mission to monitor developments at the CRF.” It was the truth.