Glass Slippers

Chapter 2

Silas's POV:

Thank the heavens Gabriel didn't accompany me, I silently muse, brushing yet another spider off my arm. He would have surely screamed like a startled dove—though I hold no ill will toward the fairer sex, of course.

I find myself wandering through a dense forest, a few miles west of the castle. Nathan, a dear friend, had asked for my assistance in locating a new training ground for my brothers and me. Passing through these woods seemed like a small favour to extend, as I was heading to the docks where my sailboat awaited, eager to be untethered. Today, the sun casts its benevolent glow upon the earth, accompanied by a gentle breeze—a perfect day for sailing to Brenay Island. The desire to escape the confines of the palace and set sail had been tugging at me for some time now, but the preparations for Victor's upcoming eighteenth birthday ball had kept us all relentlessly occupied. Alas, Gabriel and Luke required coconuts unique to that island for their latest hair products and desserts.

I stoop under one of the many low-hanging branches along the trail, occasionally pondering the disadvantages of my towering stature, when the sound of a snapping branch to my left captures my attention. I instinctively take a step forward, only to witness a girl—no, more than a girl, an ethereal being—plummeting from the heavens. She wears a flowing white dress that billows in the wind, forming a radiant halo around her resplendent blond locks. Her eyes, hauntingly green, appear filled with secrets, while her soft pink lips contrast beautifully against her porcelain skin. Indeed, she must be my own personal angel.

In awe, I observe as she executes a graceful somersault mid-air before landing unceremoniously on the ground. I run to her side, concerned for her well-being. It briefly occurs to me that she couldn't have seen my approach, with her back turned towards me. As I approach, she bolts into the forest, her lithe form swiftly disappearing amidst the foliage. I give chase, though my efforts prove futile. Though petite and nimble, she eludes me effortlessly, while I lumber through the underbrush, my stature hindering any hopes I have of swift pursuit.

I continue running, striving to keep up with this mysterious angel, yet my endeavours result in painful encounters with a series of low-hanging branches—nature's disdainful slaps across my face. By this point, we have ventured far from any human or animal-made trails. Just as I begin to believe she has successfully eluded me, a faint whimper reaches my ears from behind a nearby tree.

Curiosity piqued, I approach cautiously, my gaze falling upon the angel curled up in anguish with fear etched upon her exquisite face. Her eyes, once filled with trepidation, now widen in terror as they meet mine. She scuttles backward, emitting a pained cry as her back collides with the sturdy trunk.

Realising that I am the source of her distress, I raise my hands in a gesture of harmlessness, lowering myself to her eye level. Her verdant eyes seem to double in size as I inch closer, sensing her apprehension. A faint whimper escapes her lips, the sound melding with her melodious voice.

"Fear not, aggele, I mean you no harm," I whisper tenderly. "Are you injured?"

She hesitates, nodding and shaking her head in rapid succession.

"May I have a look?" I ask, aware of the slim chance she will grant my request, given our recent chase through the woods. In her eyes, I may well be an axe-wielding murderer, minus the weapon.

Her curious gaze lingers upon me before she whispers an almost inaudible "yes." Her voice flows like a gentle stream, sweet and melodic, as if she were singing.

She turns around, lowering the back of her dress by a few inches, revealing a jagged wound that begins halfway down her shoulder and extends beneath the fabric. The edges of the cut bear slight scabs, suggesting it is a few days old. My heart sinks as I pray it was an accidental injury, but the clean, deliberate nature of the wound leaves me with a grim realization. This was no mere mishap. The burning question now lingers—who could perpetrate such cruelty against a fragile, innocent soul?