A weight leaned against the door pushed it forward as soon as she turned the handle, but their visitor managed to grab hold of the frame before he fell headfirst into the room. Vaguely, Selissa noted the blood smeared all over the door, but it was the hulking man clinging to the wall that grabbed her attention.
“Hello, princess,” Ardeth said hoarsely, before promptly passing out at her feet.
Blinking dumbly, staring at the empty space the assassin had occupied just seconds before, the only thought that occurred to Selissa was, ‘This is becoming a habit.’
The captain shot another look at his flailing men. “Magister Feryll. Care you explain to me why you’re here, using my men as dominoes, and not at your estate like I was informed?”
“At the time you were informed, I likely was at home,” Feryll said. “But events escalated a bit and we thought it better to relocate.”
“What happened?” Leya asked sharply.
“Death, destruction, abductions, general calamity,” Feryll said casually.
“Don’t forget the demonic summoning rituals,” Selissa reminded him.
“And demonic summoning rituals,” Feryll added.
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.”