I am in disgrace.
I confess it before all of you, that although my seniors have been lenient with me, I did not deserve it. What I have done crossed a boundary that I never suspected that I would cross. I am horrified that I would so insult one of my own brothers.
But I must tell the whole story.
Last night, Lubos came to me to tell me that the engagement party Freya had so feared was occurring that evening, and he very kindly invited me to come along. After the stress I had been enduring with Pamela and Rohan, the prospect of being in a different couple’s company—and more importantly, one whose problems were not my responsibility—was very appealing. That thought is ironic, in light of what I have done.
We joined Freya before Ryan was supposed to pick her up, but this time she was already ready, seated at her kitchen table and tapping her high-heeled feet. She was a knot of anxiety, but there was an edge of belligerence on her, making her aura look more like a blade than a blaze.
“This Jennifer and she were enemies of a sort in the past,” Lubos explained to me as Freya watched the hands of her clock. “Where Freya was always a bit distanced from others, Jennifer was surrounded by friends at all times. They were both loved, but in different ways. Jennifer was scornful of Freya, while Freya believed that she could see darkness in Jennifer that others simply did not recognize.”
“I can see how that would be frustrating,” I replied. “Could she?”
Lubos flicked his wings in a shrug. Two pairs of wings—he is far more advanced than I. “I have met this Jennifer, and there are shadows on her soul, but no more than one might see in most humans. Freya herself has shadows.”
I looked at Freya and could see them for myself—envy, resentment, self-doubt. They sat uneasily within her bright soul.
“I believe that what Freya sees in Jennifer is what she lacks in herself—an ease of friendship with others,” Lubos explained. “What came easily to Jennifer was—and remains—difficult for Freya. I think you have seen for yourself that Freya’s relationships are poorly maintained, though they go deep. Freya is never more aware of that than when Jennifer is present.”
“Then why did she agree to attend this event?”
Lubos sighed. “Because human nature is what it is. They try to deny the very existence of enemies, and so when they see one another tonight, they will act like friends, at least on the surface. You and I shall know better.”
We did know better. In fact, it was impossible to know otherwise. The moment Ryan and Freya entered the house where the party was taking place, Jennifer looked up and met Freya’s eyes. The look of disgust that she quickly hid was not restrained in her soul. What is she doing here? was the thought that dampened all other thoughts in the room.
Freya was equally dismayed. She clung to Ryan’s hand, holding back as he wound his way through the crowd to reach the guests of honor.
“Ryan Carlman,” Jennifer said sweetly, stepping forward to kiss his cheek. Her hand lingered on Ryan’s shoulder as she looked at Freya with a sharp smile. “Look at what you’ve dug up. Freya, how long has it been?”
“Too long,” Freya lied; she was thinking she could have delayed this moment forever. “You look good, Jen.”
Jennifer did look good. She is a beautiful woman, with long hair perfectly maintained, although the color was never one designed for humans. Her eyes ran over Freya’s brilliant mane of red, tonight left to fall in its natural abundance, and a spike of jealousy was added to her disdain.
“Thanks,” she said, reaching back to take the nearest man’s hand. “Happiness does wonders for the complexion.” And she laughed, angling her hand so that the large diamond on her finger[1] flashed in the light.
“Do not let your loyalty make you cruel, Asa’el,” Lubos said gently. “See all of her, not just what you expect or wish.”
His advice came at the right moment—biased by Freya, I was prepared to dislike this woman unfairly. When I looked again, however, I could see that she was truly happy with this man, that her love for him was pure and strong. I cannot deny that, though I can condemn her use of it to hurt Freya.
That barb, however, fell short; whatever Freya envied in Jennifer, it was not her tie to a man. She met Isaac with true warmth, and though she accepted his offer to see their home as a means of getting away from Jennifer, by the time they had made it across half the space, the two were on quite amiable terms.
For a while I thought the danger had passed; Freya and Ryan kept their distance from Jennifer, instead taking the opportunity to meet several old friends and catch up on their lives. Freya’s laughter, though, and the obvious pleasure others felt on seeing her, began to irritate Jennifer, and soon she came to join the group where Freya was telling an old story about an ex-boyfriend.
Ryan was not with Freya—he was engaged in a different conversation across the room. I tensed as Jennifer fixed her eyes on Freya, as Freya kept an eye on Jennifer throughout the last half of her story. A confrontation was coming; we all knew it.
“Peace, brother,” Lubos murmured. “She is strong; she will be well.”
The story was finished, and the group dissolved into laughter. Only Jennifer and Freya did not laugh.
As the noise subsided, Jennifer smiled that razor smile and said, “That poor boy, Freya. You always were hard on your boyfriends, weren’t you? I hope Ryan knows what he’s getting himself into.”
Freya smiled sensually. “Ryan’s a big boy—I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s smart enough to know what is worth his time.”
The others laughed again, relieved at the parry—they had felt the tension, too.
But Jennifer was not finished. “I wonder—have you heard from David Meers recently? I invited him tonight, but he said that he wouldn’t be able to make it.”
That name set a chill running through Freya. She clutched her drink tightly and said in a bright tone that she had not heard from him.
“No? What about Josh Richardson?” Jen pursed her lips in an expression I have heard described as a pout. “I really was hoping that he would come, but I couldn’t get hold of him.”
Freya was silent, staring at Jen. All the others seemed to be aware that the confrontation was now inevitable—one of them excused herself with a word, going off to refill her glass.
“And I thought just a few months ago you were dating someone else—Greg? Isn’t that what I saw on Facebook?”[2]
At this I understood what was happening. These names were previous matches of Freya’s, and from the shame and guilt filling Freya’s heart, I could guess that those matches had not come to a good end.
“Should we not do something?” I asked Lubos.
“Patience,” he said. “Freya must face this truth in herself. Perhaps this is the best way to do so.”
I could see his point—I have seen with Pamela that sometimes it is essential that the humans should learn painful truths. I just hated that this should be the way Freya would learn about herself.
“I wonder if they all knew what was worth their time, too,” Jen said, raising her brows at Freya and smiling in savage triumph. “Hmm, Freya?”
Across the room, Ryan had finally spotted the exchange and was hurriedly excusing himself, but the damage had been done. Freya felt the cut of the words, remembering the struggle and pain of each of those relationships ending, and her shoulders slumped.
I should not have done it, I know. But I could not bear to see her soul shadowed. I believed—I still believe—that she is aware of her own faults, and that she did not need to hear them from this woman who has hurt her so often in the past.
So I stepped forward, lifting one wing and wrapping it around Freya, shielding her soul from the hurt.
“Brother,” Lubos protested, but then fell silent as the comfort and strength ran through Freya, setting her aura alight once again. I confess, even though I am conscious of my own fault in this instance, I find it difficult to regret when I remember the way she looked up at Jen, her eyes burning so brightly that Jen faltered.
“Maybe you’re right, Jen,” she said quietly. “But you know what? I know what’s worth my time, and this isn’t it.” She thudded her glass down so hard on a table that the stem of it cracked. “Congratulations on your engagement, and good luck to Isaac—he’s going to need it.” With that, she turned, her hair spinning around her, and made a magnificent exit, silencing most of the company.
As Ryan hurried after her, waving quick goodbyes to the hosts and the guests, I took a breath and turned to face Lubos. It was not only he who waited there, however, but Danit, Kuya, and even Zezette. Looking into their faces brought my fault fully into my consciousness, and I felt the taint of it all through me.
“Come back with us now, Asa’el,” Zezette told me, her voice soft and regretful.
The rest, I am certain you already know. Disciplinary hearings are rare among our brethren, and why should they not be? We know the laws that our Father-King has laid out for us; we all know our place. To interfere with another angel’s mandated assignment, without his permission or approval—it was appalling that I should have even considered it. That Danit spoke in my favor—she claimed that I am the most promising Cupid she has ever seen—shames me even more. Even Lubos has forgiven me, claiming that my action was motivated by love.
And it was. I freely confess that—I am attached to Freya, though she is not mine to protect. I want to see her happy and safe and loved.
But no matter my motivation, I was wrong. I insulted Lubos’ judgment, and for that Zezette was right to censure me.
I am forbidden from seeing Freya, whether in Lubos’ company or not, even if I am on sabbath. This restriction will hold until both Danit and Lubos judge me sound enough to return to her side. I well know that it may never happen.
I am grieved by this, and so I know it is a just punishment. To all of you, I apologize for my fault, and for the unfairness that you, too, will be unable to know how she goes on. We shall all have to place our faith in Lubos, who is well deserving of that faith. The fire woman will rest safe in his protection, and she will certainly not miss my presence.
[1] A ring on the fourth finger of the left hand is a symbol of marriage and an eternal commitment.
[2] This is not an actual book, as I originally believed. It is a website, a particular location in the Internet where humans can post things about themselves and their lives. Frequently it is used as a crutch to uphold friendships that would otherwise fail, or else as a way to keep an eye on people whom one holds in contempt.