“He was walking through the crowd, approaching the clearing around the stage from the opposite direction of the route that Rebekah’s group had taken. He was accompanied by a handful of Jansai merchants, all dressed in bright, flowing robes and pushing each other aside to get a chance to argue with him. He was laughing. Torchlight spangled his yellow hair and threw glitter across his white wings, held narrowly behind his body as if he wanted to keep them from being soiled or stepped on. He looked... regal and beautiful and fashioned of pure divine light.Obadiah.It was not the night, Rebekah felt certain, for her to have been left unattended by her brother and her cousins in a sea of indifferent and drunken strangers.But she would not talk to him. She would not follow Martha’s reckless example, oh no. She was an engaged woman, a dutiful daughter, a fool who might carry the image of an angel in her heart but who knew better than to reach her hand to that image and see if she could startle it into existence.Besides, he was surrounded by powerful Jansai men who had no interest in indulging the whims of gawking young boys who wanted to step close enough to see the angel, marvel at his wings, wonder aloud why he had wandered into Breven, where angels were far from welcome.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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