It would be hard to explain the Demios clan’s interest in her without mentioning the archangel someone had sealed inside her. A someone she still didn’t know the identity of, but whom she would very much like to punch in the face if she ever got the chance.
Seymour watched the magister leave before glancing at Selissa who had taken to scowling at the nearest wall. The look in his eyes suggested he didn’t quite know where to start.
“Should I be worried about you living with him?” he asked. “Angry peasants get into fist fights. Angry mages burn down cities.”
“A few weeks in, and your apprentice already holds you in such high regard,” Rowan said. “It’s heartwarming.”
Feryll frowned at them. “How did I end up surrounded by angry women?”
Selissa raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer angry demons?”
The magister hesitated, eyeing her warily. “I would answer that honestly, but I fear you’d punch me.”
Alassane was in every way a rather strange individual. She had learned that underneath the sarcastic attitude… well, there was more sarcasm and more than a few annoying habits. But underneath all that, he was rather intelligent. He knew a lot about a wide range of subjects and seemed to be able to find a solution to most problems.
On the other hand, when it came to social interaction, he had about as much common sense as a cactus.
A muted sound outside drew her attention, followed by someone hammering furiously on the front door down in the main hall. Curiously, Selissa got up and opened the window, leaning out of it to better hear what was obviously a man yelling obscenities out in front of the manor. She could only make out a few scattered words, but as they included several synonyms for ‘bastard’, she believed she got the gist.
Sighing, Selissa closed the window. “It’s too damn early for this.”
She wasn’t particularly concerned about why there was an angry man shouting at Feryll’s door around sunrise. For all she knew, the door had it coming.