Angels

There was once a time when Jane truly doubted in the idea that anything supernatural or religious held basis in reality. There was too much natural evil in the world around her to pin the blame on demons – so why, then, should what little good that happens to come around in the world be taken credit for by angels?

The greatest gift and joy in her life for many, many years was none other than her baby brother, Cutler. The idea that the one person who treated her as something more than an ornament in life, as someone who was just as real and valuable as anyone else, might be anything more or less than exactly what he was became like an anathema to her. People were not angels or demons, they were not blessed or cursed – they simply were.

Her thoughts on this changed, however, several years into her time as a widow. There were strange moments that could not truly be accounted for – such as the time Victorie told her of the man who would bring her glass horses, the description of whom was so strikingly similar to that of Sébastien that Jane had to wonder at it. Or the time Henri swore up and down that a man just like that was responsible for getting him out of a tree.

If these were the only instances she might have overlooked it, but there were other things. His scent drifting close whenever she was overwhelmed at court, or the certainty that he was there when she tucked their children in at night. It was never alarming, these strange notes of impossibility in the tangible weave of her world – and as true magic became known to her in various respects, she found that it might indeed be possible, to believe in things such as angels.

For surely, if demons like Davy Jones could exist – then surely, so could angels like Sébastien.