He listened to his love many hours each day.

And when Calimei did not wish to struggle through her words, she wrote Azazel letters, and gave them to him in person.

On the third day, Azazel sat on the edge of the castle’s battlements while reading Calimei’s newest letter.

Your Majesty,

I pray you will not find me cold for my demeanor toward you. I am not unfeeling. I merely have trouble believing your intentions to be sincere. You say you love me, and I believe you believe that, but our relationship is still young, and you are clearly impulsive.

Forgive me if I have stepped outside my bounds, for you are a heavenly creature, above all mortals. Yet, if I am expected to see you as a husband, I must be allowed to speak my mind. I fear politics, not affection, spurred your proposal that day. Were my parents still alive, they would most certainly arrange our marriage, but they are not, and I am now in control of my own destiny. Therefore, I would know my future husband before we become engaged, and I would have him know me.

Azazel smiled at the letter as his eyes took in every word. Warmth filled his heart as he reflected on his love’s brilliant mind.

I once had an older brother, Kian. He was my parents’ heir. I loved my brother, even though he teased me. He would constantly make fun of my stutter, sometimes calling me “imbecile,” or “the slow one.” Though he insulted me, and mocked my slow speech, he always did so with affection in his eyes and voice. Looking back on it, I think that he thought that by mocking me he would help me to improve. Kian sought to make me stronger, and iron is forged in fire.

“Then surely your armor has become indestructible!” Azazel said out loud. The moment the words escaped his lips, he glanced back and forth at the passing guards. One gave him a curious look but continued on his way.

Mind you, my brother was not always so harsh. Often, he would take me for rides on his prized horses. He was also the one who taught me how to shoot a crossbow and bought for me books about magic. Kian was even so kind as to play my girlish games when I asked him. The two of us would play with dolls and build little model villages for them.

My mother sought to cure my problem. Or, rather, as she put it, “break me of that bad habit.” She would tell me, “Just blurt it out! Even if the words are stupid, just speak!” This, of course, proved counter-productive, and made me afraid to speak. So, she hired physicians, who would force me to engage in such meaningless exercises as trying to speak with a mouth full of marbles. Worse, they’d make me stare into a mirror as I tried to speak, and I could see what a fool I looked as I stumbled through my words.

When the physicians’ methods failed to work, my mother was convinced it was my fault, and when I turned 13 she made the decision that my nanny, Zale, would speak for me. No one could ever know that Lady Brook’s daughter was slow of speech.

Azazel’s heart sunk at Lady Calimei’s words. He looked over his shoulder toward the keep, where he spotted her in the window. She sat at a desk with a quill and piece of parchment in her hand.

He returned his eyes to her letter.

As with all letters I have given you before, please burn this one when you are done reading it. I know, undoubtedly you will protest again that you wish to keep “every lovely word I’ve ever written close to your heart for all time” and whatever other foolish nonsense. You have a mind, I assume. Use it to remember, then ensure that the letters I write you will always stay private. Burn these words.

“Yes, my lady,” Azazel whispered. He held the letter folded in his hand, then surrounded his fingers in white fire. The paper smoldered, and the wind carried the ashes away.

Azazel spread his wings, leapt from the battlements, and soared across to the window where Calimei sat. With his feet resting between the bricks below, he knocked on the window.

Calimei looked up from her desk and saw him in the window, her face impossible to read.

“May I come in?” Azazel asked.

She stared for a moment, as if considering her answer carefully, then stood from her desk and opened the window for him.

“Thank you so much,” said Azazel. “You look far prettier without glass in the way.”

Calimei grunted, placed her hand on Azazel’s chest, then pushed him.

Azazel fell from the window, but the wind in his wings slowed his fall and he landed softly in the dirt below. “Oh! So brutal!” he cried out in a joking tone. “My lady has slain me!”

The young angel was sure he’d heard her snicker in response to his joke, and not just from the guards passing by. The window remained open, so Azazel took that as a sign he was still welcome. He stood and flapped his wings, soon arriving at the window sill again.

Calimei stood with her back toward the window now, her fingers searching through her jewelry box.

Azazel approached her, his hands folded behind his back. “I read your letter.”

Calimei did not turn to face him. She merely nodded her head.

“I was really sorry to read that your mother was unkind,” said Azazel.

“Sh-she was j-j-just t-t-trying to help,” said Calimei. “Ssssometimes wh-when we t-t-try to hhhhelp people we g-g-g-get frust… frustr…” Calimei clenched her fists and lightly hit her own temples with them. “Angry! Angrywhenitdoesn’twork!” After forcing the words out, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself again.

Azazel gave a half smile. “I suppose that’s fair. But, what about Kian? It sounds like you had a great time with him. I’d love to hear more about your brother.”

Calimei turned to face him. “Next letter.”

“In your next letter you’ll tell me more about him?” asked Azazel.

Calimei nodded.

“Thank you.”

The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Azazel fell to one knee before her, and Lady Calimei opened her mouth to protest. “D-d-don’t p-p-propose again! Not nnnnnnow.”

“I’m not going to.” Azazel reached up and took Calimei’s hand in his own. “I want to tell you that you are not an imbecile. You are not slow. I’ve read your words, your true voice, and I have fallen in love with you over and over again. Because you’re brilliant and eloquent.”

“D-d-don’t t-t-t-tease me.” Calimei slipped her hand out of his.

“I’m not teasing!” Azazel protested. Calimei walked away from him, and he moved to pursue. “I understand you don’t believe me—”

Something small, black, and with many legs descended from the ceiling and landed on Azazel’s face. When the angel felt those eight, tiny legs crawl across his forehead, he fell on the ground and flailed.

“Oh, gods! Spider! Get it off!”

Azazel rolled on the ground and scrambled his hands around to find the miniature monster.

Splash!

Azazel gasped after the water had passed over his head. He looked up and Calimei stood holding her hand over him, with sparkling dust rising from her palm.

“There it is!” she shouted and pointed to his right.

Azazel jumped to his feet and stomped on the over-turned spider. His foot pounded the ground repeatedly, until there was nothing visible left of the offensive abomination.

Calimei smirked at him once he’d calmed down. “My hero.” She snickered.

Azazel blushed and scratched the back of his head. “Now who’s teasing who?”

Calimei crossed her arms and pushed her hip off to one side. “I’m t-t-teasing you, b-b-brave warrior.”

For a moment, Azazel’s brain raced to find some way he could restore his dignity, and not appear a coward in front of the woman he loved. But as Calimei stared at him on the verge of hysterical giggling, he decided it was better to bring her merriment. “Ha ha… yes, my courage is all a lie! Demons I can make short work of, but spiders? They reveal my true cowardice!”

Azazel and Calimei laughed together.

It was time, at last, for Azazel to meet more of his subjects.

Before Azazel left the keep, Zale stopped him at the door and placed in his hand a small, wooden box. “This is a send-box,” she said, “Lady Calimei has one just like it. While you are away, her ladyship asks that you write to her, and she shall write to you.”

Azazel gave a confused look. “I’ve never seen one of these before… do I just write a letter and…”

“Slip it in the box, yes,” said Zale. “After you close the box, Lady Calimei will receive the letter in her send box, and she can send you one the same way.”

“Thank you, Zale,” said Azazel.

Outside the stables, Azazel rode upon a pure, white steed to meet with his entourage. Neji, the demon-hunter from the western deserts sat astride a black steed, her sword strapped to the saddle. “My dear,” she said, her voice melodious and proud, “You shall not come to harm with me at your side.”

“And I’ll keep you safe as well, Neji,” he replied, “No demon shall overtake us!”

A high-pitched screech of escaping steam snapped Azazel’s attention to his other side. There stood what appeared to be a bull made of rusty iron and steel. Heat exuded from the automaton beast’s nostrils, and its body shook and rattled. Upon its back sat a figure covered from head to toe in gleaming steel plates of armor.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” said Azazel.

Neji grinned. “This is the Silent Swordsman, darling. A fearsome and dangerous knight indeed. He’s slain countless enemies of the Brook family.”

Azazel squinted, trying to peer through the tiny eye-slits in the helmet’s visor. All he could see inside was darkness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

The Silent Swordsman remained true to his title.

“And I too shall accompany you, your majesty,” came Jasper’s kind voice. The priest rode beside Azazel on an ashen horse. “Let us be off! We shall show all of Tir Shazelle you are a king worth serving.”