Chapter 12 First impressions.

Normally, when she ate, her mother would join her, so she never felt like she was being watched. Whether it was because angels did not eat or because mortal food was offensive, Azmodiel courteously declined the food offered by Alice and simply watched her eat. For once, Alice felt uncomfortable at the table. Sitting down to eat after everything that had happened was difficult, but her mother's voice urging her to take care of herself kept her grounded.

Neither the discomfort of the situation nor the sensation of fullness could alleviate the overwhelming feelings of sadness torturing her at that moment. It was a miracle that she remained standing and functional, a miracle in the form of a very peculiar angel. Alice focused her attention on Azmodiel, subconsciously turning him into her anchor.

It was at this point that the young girl truly took notice of the angel who had come to her rescue, who had answered her prayers. It was then that Alice began to notice how the appearance of her angel differed from what was described in legends and tales. There wasn't much about Azmodiel's appearance that seemed angelic at all.

Leaving aside the divine beauty of his face, which embarrassed Alice when she noticed it, and his wings, black and with a sharp appearance. Alice couldn't understand why they felt so soft when they enveloped her, but nothing else about him seemed angelic.

Azmodiel's hair was a shade similar to dragon's breath grass but looked like a dim, extinguished fire. It was irregularly cut and somewhat disheveled, yet it didn't affect his image. His skin was a color that didn't seem natural but was somehow hypnotizing, like a soft mantle covering a musculature more defined than that of the hunters and woodcutters Alice knew. His eyes were dark and deep, and she was sure she got lost in them several times.

Getting lost in his eyes was common but didn't make it impossible to notice the fine, masculine features of his face that complemented his body well. Something in Alice felt peculiar when scrutinizing her angel's physique, but the young girl couldn't quite grasp what it was. The fact that he was shirtless from the waist up could be one of the reasons.

Azmodiel was not completely naked. He wore black pants, covered with worn-out pieces that seemed to be remnants of some kind of protection. Honestly, Alice thought her angel looked somewhat unkempt and even uncomfortable.

It was rather difficult to relate Azmodiel's appearance to the concept of an angel that existed in Alice's mind. But combining her limited and probably unreliable knowledge from fairy tale books, as well as a very vague concept of what is considered an angel, Alice found a way to explain her angel's appearance to herself.

Luckily for the being, naivety was a characteristic trait of his master, which this time played in his favor. Alice ended up scolding herself for thinking such blasphemous thoughts about the celestial being who saved her. "What's that?" Her guest's sudden question prevented Alice from saying what was on her mind.

Interrupted by Azmodiel's deep voice, she saw his hand pointing behind her. When she turned around, she realized he wasn't looking in her direction but had his gaze fixed on the basket of herbs she had left by the dining room entrance.

When he entered the room, as keen as his awareness of the Akash was, it didn't take Azmodiel more than a second to realize that his senses had tingled peculiarly, and that sensation came from the peculiar-looking herbs resting peacefully in the basket. However, he hadn't found a suitable moment to ask.

Although slightly confused by the question, the girl didn't hesitate to explain. "Those are some herbs that grow here; I'm responsible for their cultivation." At that moment, Alice did notice the flood of emotions that came with talking about the subject, and at first, she tried to contain her excitement, but to her delight, the beautiful angel behind her seemed genuinely interested as his questions didn't stop there.

No matter how insignificant, he wasn't willing to ignore the presence of the Akash around them, not to mention that part of him had genuine interest and curiosity about the topic, which the girl took as a welcome distraction and conversation topic—a bonus.

As he continued to gaze at the faint presence of the Akash emanating from both herbs, one a bright orange like a flame and the other grayish like metal, Azmodiel listened attentively to the mortal girl's enthusiastic explanation next to him. The fact that Alice truly knew the subject and was interested in answering his questions helped the conversation flow naturally.

As far as the angel knew, mortals did not have such awareness or readiness to utilize natural resources blessed by magic in the past, so his new master's passion for the subject ignited a small flame of interest in the being. In Azmodiel's memory, mortals only pillaged these resources and consumed them without any restriction.

"They were no different from a plague," he added in his mind, but the girl mentioned cultivation processes, soil properties, irrigation cycles, and many other details that, although they didn't show a high degree of study on the subject, overflowed with understanding, passion, and attention to detail, leaving the being somewhat perplexed.

Unknowingly, Azmodiel ended up listening intently to the girl's explanation about the plants, her work in the town, and many other related things. After a certain point, he no longer had an opportunity to say a single word, as Alice kept talking.

You could feel the excitement in her voice when she talked about the plants, but the thread of the topic made her jump from one thing to another, to her life before the attack. The excitement slowly faded when some names began to come out of her lips, each one softer and lower than the last until the final one came out as almost a sob, interrupted by the silence.

Focusing so much on her angelic savior, Alice's thoughts wander with doubts about the situation, eventually leading her to remember that sadness that comes with loneliness. The young girl didn't notice it, but Azmodiel, observing her so intently, noticed the exact moment when Alice's thoughts took a dangerous turn. The angel maintained a calm exterior while wondering what the girl was thinking and whether she was aware that her emotions were so obvious.

Taking advantage of the emotion shown in the girl's silence, Azmodiel attempted to deepen her dependence on him by making an offer. "Alice, I know it's difficult, but if you want to find out what happened, I'm willing to accompany you."

Her sadness was interrupted by two thoughts. The first was wondering how Azmodiel knew her name, but she reasoned that since she knew his, it wasn't too difficult to believe; and the second was the unclear response to such an offer, where she questioned whether she really wanted to know, whether she wanted reality to catch up with her or just enjoy her savior's company a little longer.

As it was the first time Azmodiel took the initiative, Alice felt a bit nervous when she heard his voice. She had heard it before, but this time it sounded sweeter and more sincere. When she looked up, she found Azmodiel standing beside her, extending his hand, something he didn't do voluntarily; the chains played with his will once more.

Coming out of her thoughts, Alice realized she had them while staring at her angel, who was looking back at her, possibly waiting for an answer. She was a mere human, and Azmodiel was an angel who had been watching over her for some reason, so it was natural that she felt somewhat tense.

The young girl had a different thought then; angel or not, there was a half-naked man in front of her offering her his hand. Alice's cheeks turned redder than before, and she didn't know what to do besides turn her face away from Azmodiel's gaze, hoping he didn't notice.

Immediately after, she stood up abruptly and disappeared through the kitchen door into the hallway, leaving Azmodiel slightly perplexed and with limited options. Although the girl didn't stay out for long, it was enough for the being to take a closer look at the herbs, but before he could test how they reacted to him, the girl returned with something in her hands.

Slightly embarrassed, "It's not celestial attire, but you might feel more comfortable," Alice offered the pieces of fabric she carried in her arms to her angel, who identified it as villager clothing, and though he felt even more humiliated than with the fire or the well, he reluctantly reminded himself that he had to keep her happy.

He took the slightly worn linen shirt and put it on his torso. Alice had never thought about someone else getting dressed, but now that she witnessed it, it was an unusual sensation, something strange forming inside her chest. It might have been rude to keep watching, but no matter how hard she tried, taking her eyes off him turned into occasional glances interspersed with looking at the floor.

One of those gazes met Azmodiel's hands removing the worn-out armor from his legs, almost hypnotizing. Until he reached the button on his pants, where Alice snapped back to the reality of the situation and hurried to turn her back to give him some privacy. A mocking smile formed on Azmodiel's face; he could have changed with magic, just a move and done. But where's the fun in that?

To avoid issues, as soon as he put it on, with a little magic, he adjusted the garment to his size. "It fits like a glove, thank you," the gratitude followed by a smile filled little Alice with something similar to embarrassment, but it was an emotion she hadn't felt before.

A dangerous gleam passed through Azmodiel's purple eyes, noticing the trust that was forming, but Alice didn't perceive it, she was too submerged in the sea of emotions she was now experiencing. Trying to appear friendly while dangerous ideas filled his mind, Azmodiel spoke again. "Well, Alice, there's something I'd like to ask you."