Don't Just Speak Love

  * * * *

  As promised, first thing on Sunday morning, we flew back to Singapore, and I had the luxury of experiencing a flight in a private plane, thanks to the Savants.

  With hours to kill, there was plenty of time to observe Atward Savant close up. I felt a bit like a stalker, but could I really be blamed for that? This was an archangel I was talking about here—okay, a former archangel, but it was more or less the same, right?

  Now that I thought about it, something about him had always entranced me. Yes, he was exceptionally good-looking, but I wasn’t attracted to him—I hardly gave a damn about the opposite sex. It was previously inexplicable, the way he made me feel about him, but now everything was clear—he’d been an archangel.

  Sasuke and I were in the back with Sir Albion, while Atward and Chaste sat together at the front of the cabin. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they looked perfectly comfortable with each other despite this being their first meeting in this lifetime. Somehow, I found myself envying them. I could actually see some hope of lifelong bliss with this couple. After all, they’d chased each other from another lifetime. Would something that wonderful ever happen to me—

  I shook my head, breaking myself out of the fantasy. Not possible. Cold, concrete reality slapped me in the face as the shadow of my parents’ failed marriage crept up on me. Happy endings only happened to one in a thousand—probably a million—and that person couldn’t be me.

  As much as I hated to admit it, my parents’ relationship was pretty much one-sided, with my father putting more effort into maintaining it. My mother had always been perfunctory around my father. She’d cleaned the house, whipped up meals, and cared for me with all her heart, but I’d never seen her do the same for my father. They’d never held hands or exchanged emotional embraces like other couples. Yes, she’d fulfilled all her duties as a wife physically but definitely not psychologically.

  And suddenly, I was enlightened. Could it be that she wasn’t able to put her past with the Archangel Gabriel behind her? Perhaps Gabriel was as captivating to her as Israfel was to Chaste? That would explain things.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Sasuke, snapping me out of my thoughts. “The look you have on your face is pretty worrying.”

  “I—I hate flying,” I lied sloppily.

  He didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t press.

  “You’d better get some rest,” interrupted Sir Albion frigidly as he flipped a Forbes magazine, stopping at his article. “You’ll need it. Both of you.”

  I gulped. That didn’t sound positive with his tone. I really hoped he would forgive us soon and not take it out on our training later.

  When our plane touched down at Changi Airport six hours later, Sir Albion demanded our passports the second we checked out, and we sighed in resignation. We didn’t dare show any further displeasure though, so we handed over our passports half-heartedly.

  “Don’t misuse your ability,” Sir Albion told a sulky Sasuke. “You’re a celebrity, and people recognise you, so let me warn you—trespassing across country borders is illegal. Don’t get yourself into unnecessary trouble.”

  Sasuke nodded unenthusiastically, and as expected, Sir Albion took no notice of it, his expression stony as ever.

  Atward and Chaste took a different car from us. Nobody had mentioned where they were going.

  Sasuke turned to Sir Albion as they parted from us. “It’s weird, knowing they’re my grandparents—in reincarnated forms, yes, but their souls are the same, right?”

  Sir Albion nodded then, eyeing Sasuke closely, he said, “In Heaven, Archangel Israfel had the most amazing voice, and his instinct for sound and music was unparalleled. Don’t be too hard on Atward, Sasuke. After all, he gave you your exceptional talent. Make the best use of that talent and do good with it.”

  Crossing his arms and looking away, Sasuke pouted. “I’ll come around it, but not now,” he said shortly.

  When we were back at Black Gold, Sir Albion brought us to the conference room we always used, and just like every other day, he zapped us to the Inverness stadium for training. No lectures or anything. Just training. The same old physical work out. The same old running.

  I was pretty tired, after travelling for so long, but of course, I hadn’t been expecting Sir Albion to let us off today’s training. I was already glad he wasn’t mad anymore and so, like always, I slogged through and managed to survive another day.