chapter thirty-two

Zamiel sat on the balcony, his eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the city skyline. The cold breeze whispered past his face, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers and damp earth. He didn't seem to notice, his expression lost in thought.

The sound of footsteps echoed from inside the room, growing louder as Elena approached. She carried a glass of wine and a cup, her movements quiet and deliberate. As she reached the balcony, she set the glass and cup down on the table beside Zamiel, her eyes flicking towards him for a brief moment.

For an instant, it seemed like she was about to turn and leave, but something seemed to catch her. She hesitated, her mouth opening as if to speak. As she asked the question, her lips curled in slightly, as if she was about to pinch them shut. "Is... everything okay?" she asked, the words tumbling out in a soft, tentative tone.

She stood there, waiting for Zamiel's response, her eyes searching his face for some sign of emotion.

But Zamiel's expression didn't change, his eyes remaining fixed on that distant point beyond the city.

A flicker of embarrasment danced across Elena's face, her eyes narrowing slightly as she realized she was being ignored. She knew better than to expect a response from Zamiel, especially when he was in one of his moods. But still, a part of her had hoped... had expected... something more.

For a moment, Elena stood there, frozen in uncertainty. Part of her wanted to reach out, to touch Zamiel's shoulder or his hand, to try and break through the walls he'd built around himself. But another part of her, a part that was growing louder by the second, urged her to turn and walk away, to leave Zamiel to his brooding and his silence.

In the end, it was that second voice that won out. Elina's shoulders squared, her eyes flashing with a quiet determination. She turned to walk away, by stopped in her tracks as she heard Zamiel's voice.

Zamiel turned to Elena, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "What do you think is the most futile endeavor in the world?"

Elena raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing on her lips. "Oh, that's an easy one," she said, her voice light and airy. "Trying to get you to smile."

Zamiel's expression didn't change, but for a moment, Elena could have sworn she saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Amusement? Humor? It was gone before she could pinpoint it, leaving her wondering if she'd just imagined it.

But Elena pressed on, undeterred. "I mean, seriously, it's like trying to get blood from a stone. Or in your case, trying to get a smile from... well, from you."

Zamiel's eyes seemed to gleam with a cold, otherworldly light, but his voice was low and even as he asked, "And what makes you think I don't smile?"

Elena snorted, a laugh bubbling up in her throat. "Oh, please. You're about as likely to smile as... as... well, as you are to wear a bright pink shirt to a demon council meeting."

This time, Elena could have sworn she saw Zamiel's lips twitch. Just for a moment, just a fraction of a second. But it was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

Azura stood frozen, her ears straining to catch the words being exchanged between Zamiel and Elena. She had been hiding in the shadows, listening in on their conversation without being seen.

As she heard Elena's laughter and Zamiel's low, husky responses, Azura's eyes narrowed. What was going on here? Why was Elena being so... familiar with Zamiel?

Just as Azura was starting to feel a surge of anger, she heard Zamiel's voice, low and commanding. "Azura, come out from there."

Azura's heart skipped a beat. How had he known she was there? She hesitated for a moment

But something about Zamiel's tone brooked no argument. Azura took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows, her eyes flashing with a mixture of defiance and curiosity.

Elena, who had been laughing and chatting with Zamil just moments before, suddenly stopped and bowed her head. "Milady," she said, her voice respectful.

Zamiel's eyes flicked to Elena, and for a moment, Azura thought she saw a flash in his gaze. But then his eyes returned to Azura, and he nodded curtly. "Azura, I see you're as stealthy as ever."

Azura's eyes narrowed. What was that supposed to mean? But before she could respond, Elena spoke up.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll just... uh... go and attend to some things," Elena said, her voice hesitant.

Elena bowed again and backed away, her eyes darting nervously between Azura and Zamiel. As she reached the door, she turned and hurried out, leaving Azura and Zamiel alone.

The silence between them was oppressive, heavy with unspoken tension. Azura's eyes locked onto Zamiel's.

Azura's eyes narrowed as she gazed at Zamiel. "Why are you talking to her like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with disapproval. "You're a prince, after all. You shouldn't be so familiar with your servants."

Zamiel ignored her, his expression unreadable. Azura's eyes flashed with annoyance, but she pressed on.

"I mean, seriously, Zamiel. You're a member of the royal family. You need to maintain some level of dignity and distance from your servants. Elena is just a human, after all."

Zamiel still didn't respond, his eyes fixed on some point beyond Azura's shoulder. Azura's face darkened with frustration, but she changed tack.

"Anyway, enough about Elena. I want to know what happened yesterday. You had the perfect chance to capture Korak, but you let him get away. What were you thinking?"

Zamiel's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to gleam with a cold, calculated light. "I was thinking that it wasn't the right time," he said, his voice low and even.

Azura's eyes widened in incredulity. "Not the right time? Are you kidding me? You'll never have a better chance to capture him. We can't let him just walk free."

Zamiel's gaze flicked to Azura's face, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I know what I'm doing, Azura. Don't question me."

Azura's face darkened with anger, but she bit back her retort. Instead, she said, "Fine. But mark my words, Zamiel. You're going to regret letting Korak get away."

Zamiel's expression turned cold, his eyes flashing with a warning. "Drop it, Azura," he said, his voice low and menacing. "This conversation is over."

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as Zamiel's gaze locked onto Azura's. For a moment, it seemed like Azura might push back, might refuse to back down. But then her eyes dropped, her shoulders sagging slightly as she nodded.

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by an uncomfortable silence. Azura turned and walked away, leaving Zamiel to his dark thoughts.