When Angels Fall

Chapter 34 - Departure

Alina clenched her fists and stomped towards him, before she got down on her knees by his side and folded her arms.

"Can you sing?" he asked as he turned back to watch the dancing fire.

"No."

"Can you dance?"

"Hell no!"

"Can you do anything at all?" he scoffed.

"Other than dropping trays and spilling drinks? I guess not."

Tristan chuckled at her words.

"Well, you're definitely good at talking I see. Keep talking then! Tell me a story," he said as he leaned back against the cushion and stretched his legs, getting a bit too comfortable. "Tell me your story. How did you end up here?"

Alina stiffened at his unexpected question.

"I... don't think that's exactly an entertaining story," she said, carefully.

"Whether it's entertaining or not, is for me to decide."

"I don't want to talk about it," Alina clenched her fists, trying to remain calm. That was definitely the last thing she would be willing to talk about.

"Whether you want to talk about it or not, is also for me decide," Tristan taunted her. "You are a slave. You just do as you're told."

"Is that so?" Alina turned to him with a scowl.

"Yes, it is so."

"Very well!" she snapped. "If you must know, I was married to a cruel and savage bastard who enjoyed killing little children, and whipping his slaves, and torturing his own little brother, not to mention raping and beating the hell out of me, and when I tried to escape his hell with my human lover he captured us, killed my lover, cut off my wings, and sold me into slavery. How entertaining does that sound?" Alina said it all at once without stopping.

"Wait, you were married?" Tristan sat upright, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "And you had wings?"

"Do I have to repeat everything again?" she retorted.

"No, I mean... is it true? Was your husband that bad?"

"Worse!" Alina said, tears of frustration rising to her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Tristan said, looking unexpectedly confused and somewhat regretful. "I... I shouldn't have asked you."

Alina was unsettled by the genuine concern in his eyes.

"So, you've lost your lover too," he sighed.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it."

"No, of course not," he said gently. "I've lost someone I love too," he added, almost whispering.

Lady Olivea, Alina thought.

Tristan reached for the bottle of wine before him and poured out two cups. He silently handed one to Alina while he gulped his own down in one shot.

Alina took a few sips of her cup, watching Tristan in wonder, intrigued by the sudden sadness in his black eyes.

"And you had wings you say. You were a winged Northgirl," Tristan pondered. "Well that explains a lot of your behavior."

"Please!"

"Right, right. I won't talk about it. I'm sorry," Tristan said, pouring more wine.

Indeed, he hadn't pressed her to speak any more of her past, and neither did he speak of his. He must have known how painful it was, to lose something precious. He was suffering the same. He must have understood how she felt. And for that she was grateful...