Draft 2 done

I've dug through Blood Angel part 1 and it's increased to 23,200 words. I found a space of silence between Léon and his sister, Gabrielle, was both too long and did not really work. So this is what I came up with. After 2 weeks at sea with nary a word to say to each other, they are finally nearing the Cliffs of Dover.

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It was early evening, and the White Cliffs seemed to glow in the dimming light. Tall. Silent. Clean. Not at all welcoming. Gabrielle appeared on deck as we neared the pier, now dressed in a simple gown and cloak made of finely spun wool, all burgundy and gold. 

"Will you now return to your Duke?" I asked, more from politeness than true curiosity. 

"Why do you ask me such an obvious question?" she said in her cold, calm voice. 

"All right," I said. "I have one more difficult. Why did you let our mother think you were not my sister? Why have you stayed silent from us? Seven years of complete silence?" 

"Six years." 

"The king told our father..." 

"The king's an idiot, like most men. He's fed some words and thinks he knows all he needs to know. No one in his court knew who I was, except as the wife to a duke. The very pious wife to a very powerful man." 

"Pious? You?" 

"In appearance. Chapel every day. A missal in my hand. Even the nuns think I pray too much. Seeking a child to give to my most belovèd husband. Happily pitying me because they think me barren. They are too self-involved to see the Duke prefers the company of dirty little scullery maids, whom he can abuse with impunity, and that I am in chapel for the solitude it brings. Where I think can think in peace. Plan." 

"Plan?" 

She sighed. "Not a word to me on the journey, but now you're filled with questions?" 

"I felt you wanted to be alone." 

She eyed me for several moments then nodded. "You are too empathetic, still. And you were correct."

"More planning?"

"Of course." She cast me a look of near curiosity. "Have you any idea what I plan?" 

I shrugged. "The only thing I know for certain is, it does not include me." 

"I thought you more intelligent than that." 

"You can say that after referring to me as an idiot, before the Oiym?" 

"I did think you were. I've yet to be fully convinced you are not...but I am not so unaware of my own prejudices against you that I cannot see they may have colored my opinion." 

"Careful, Gabrielle. That almost sounded like a compliment." 

"Merely a reassessment." 

She shifted to stand behind me, like she often had when I was a child. It always made me uncomfortable, before, because it was usually when she would pinch me or yank at my hair. This time? I gave her no reaction, just continued to watch the approaching cliffs. 

"Léonidès," she finally asked, "Nethys likes you. Not to the extent I claimed. She would have been a...I think a better sister to you." 

"Or mother?" I asked. 

Another hesitation before she said, "I would not suggest that to her. Nethys does still contain her vanity." 

I merely nodded. I was unsure how to respond to this kinder, gentler Gabrielle...as if saying anything would bring back her usual nature. 

The oars went up. The sail was dropped. The longboat drifted closer and closer to the pier, slow and easy as if coming home. The moment was almost magical in the dimming light. 

"Léonidès," Gabrielle asked, her voice truly hesitant, this time. 

"That is still my name, Gabrielle."

"Has Nethys mentioned L'ange de Sange to you?" 

I turned to look at her, frowning. "That is what we are. Blood Angels." 

She shook her head. "That title descends from the Germanic language, blutengel. The literal translation of L'ange de Sange from Norman to Saxon is The Angel of Blood. A subtle difference in syntax and meaning." 

"So what does it mean?" 

"That...is an answer I still seek." 

"Have you asked the Oiym?" 

She almost laughed. "You really did not pay attention to what happened in that gathering, did you?" 

One wrong question and Gabrielle reverted to form. I sighed and leaned against the side of the hull. "I'm still catching up, yes. In many ways. I suppose I am still a boy, to you." 

"No," she said, her expression like ice. "Merely an enemy." 

Then she was gone. 

Straight back to court, I was sure. Leaving behind a comment that was ridiculous in the extreme. Me? An enemy of my own sister? It made no sense. While I appreciated her backing me before the gathering, she was still very difficult to like.

And to be honest, I did not care if I never saw her, again.