Chapter 115
"You are going to poke another hole through your ear," Azriel drawled from somewhere behind her. Arwen glared, finding him in the mirror she was bent forward to see into. The earring just wouldn't go where she wanted. "And that mirror will shatter soon if you continue looking at it like that. CauldronâArwen!"
"It won't go in!"
He was at her side a moment later, peeling the earring from her fingertips. Azriel turned her away from the mirror and gently held her head still whilst she tried to ease her breathing. He slid the earring into her lobe then smoothed his hands down to her shoulders. "I never have trouble getting things in tight spaces." She snorted half-heartedly as he smiled. "Are you sure you want to go tonight? I'm sure our High Lord and Lady won't mind if you're not feeling up to it. You've been antsy all day."
"I can't not go," she murmured, sighing. Her brother and his mate were throwing a formal dinner at the River House as a proper celebration for the completion of their new home. That included Elain, Nesta and even Lucien had been invited but she overheard that he wouldn't be coming for Elain's sake who avoided him like he brought a mortal plague. "Besides, I'm feeling fine. Just... Irate."
The reason wasn't exactly a secret. Cassian still hadn't deigned to speak with her for the past week. They hadn't crossed paths often in that week, both working from their respective homes.
"I can talk to him," said Azriel. "Get Rhys to talk sense into him."
In a moment of childishness, she had almost demanded Rhysand to make Cassian speak to her but an image of herself stomping her foot against the ground like a bratty youngling had her stopping. "He is a grown male," she said quietly. She ran her hands along his black shirt, the wool soft against her palms. "If he doesn't want to speak to me then I shall put up with it. Besides, I have you to annoy instead."
He smiled crookedly. "Which is why I asked Rhys to seat me on the opposite end of the table from you." Arwen smacked the chest she had been admiring a moment earlier. "I tease. I'm apparently the only one that can put up with you, anyway."
He snatched her wrist with a laugh at her second shot. Hooking her other arm around his neck, she forced his head low so she could kiss it, tasting the cinnamon from the drink she had made him earlier. "Next week," she whispered. Dark lashes peeled back open as he searched her face for the meaning of her words.
"The bond?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "I don't care what plans you have, I'm done waiting for the right moment. I'll choose a day. I'll wake up and think 'this is it' then I'll make you something for breakfast. You will eat it and we will be a properly mated pair."
The smile continued to inch higher into his cheeks as the seconds passed. "The anticipation is going to keep me up every night."
Almost unconsciously, she drew her hand from his hold and traced the deep wrinkle the smile caused in his cheek. "If we are going to be away for some time, then I suggest we spend this evening with our family. I think we are already late."
"We are," he confirmed. "I just didn't want to face that glare of yours pointing it out. It's quite intimidating."
"Says the spymaster," she said, smiling and stepping away from him to find her shoes. "Can we fly over?"
Golden light spilled from the River House's arching windows and on the front steps, she could already hear the merry laughter and voices of her family inside. True to form, Arwen didn't knock and instead just walked in. Feyre who heard their entrance greeted them first. Arwen held up a bottle of wine that she managed to find down in her cellars.
Feyre's eyes widened. "Rhys and I haven't been able to hunt down any more of these. At least not at this age."
"I know," said Arwen. "He used to keep it right at the back for special occasions. I thought this one called for it."
Feyre took the wine and promised her the first glass once dinner had been served. Arwen reached for Azriel's hand as he stepped forward to greet Feyre with a kiss on the cheek. "Nesta hasn't come but Elain is here and so is Lucien."
Arwen perked at his name. "Lucien? I thought he wasn't?"
"I thought so too, but he changed his mind at the last minute."
Arwen let Azriel's hand go so he had the choice to linger with Feyre or follow her and headed to where she could hear the voice. Bodies filled with drawing room, which had a fire roaring despite being summer, but she assumed it was more for atmosphere than heating.
Lucien caught her eye and smiled. He was dressed in a fine jacket of forest green and brown trousers, boots rising to his calves. That bright, flaming hair sat perfectly straight down his back, grown longer since last she saw of him.
"I'm glad to see you've come," she called, weaving around furniture. Before he could respond, Arwen wrung her arms around his neck.
It took him a moment, but he returned the gesture and gave a low laugh. "Your letters telling me to come back finally became annoying enough."
"I've come to believe annoying people has become a habit of mine recently. You must tell me more about the mortal lands."
Lucien eagerly began to inform her of all his coming and goings around the lands. They share a discussion of her new emissary role, and he was quick to advise her with his own experience. Arwen forgot that she hadn't even said hello to the others until Rhys placed a hand on her shoulder and silently greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Their discussion finally drifted when they were led to the dining room with a grand mahogany table, and thin candlesticks lit on a gilded mantle, but luck was in her favour and she was placed between Lucien and Azriel.
"And finally the rest of us exist," Mor sang when Arwen finally greeted her properly.
She blushed and sipped at the promised wine. "I see all your boring faces every day. Lucien's is like a breath of fresh air."
Amren turned a dry smile on the exile. "Don't worry, she'll find your face boring by the end of the night too."
Once they had their plates of dinner in front of them, Arwen finally examined the things she hadn't wanted to see earlier. Tension was like a web, entangling them all. Elain dutifully avoided both Arwen and Lucien's gazes, often flickering to Azriel. Lucien all but stared at his mate until Arwen have a hard jab with the point of her heel into his boots. The table rattled when his knee hit it from underneath.
Cassian avoided Arwen's gaze at all costs, finding more interest in his silverware. Rhys and Azriel seemed most aware of it and kept conversations with them separate and civil. Azriel and Cassian remained uneasy with Lucien though she didn't begin to try and guess what their problem was with him that had prevailed for so long.
Arwen caught Rhysand's eye who was in the middle of sipping at his wine. They widened as if to acknowledge all the careful treading happening. "Kallias is prepared for your visit, I assume?" he asked.
She nodded as she cut into her pork. "I wrote to him a few days ago and received letter back yesterday. I have some things I need to do before I go but I'll send word again before I do."
"Visit?" It was Cassian to mutter the word but he looked only at Rhysand who sat between the general and his mate.
Rhysand nodded calmly. "Yes. Just to formally introduce herself as emissary and meet more of his court. Only a few days," he said, looking to her for confirmation. Arwen nodded.
Cassian readjusted in his seat and looked straight ahead. "I wasn't made aware."
Arwen couldn't help herself. "I believe your title is General Commander. Not watcher of the emissary."
He ignored her. Her fingers tightened around her silverware, turning her knuckles bone white and her fingertips crimson.
Cassian looked to Azriel. "Are you going with her?"
Azriel, who had only just joined in on listening to the conversation, blinked for a moment before coming to speed. "No," he said. As if sensing her heightening irritation, he laid a hand on her leg under the table, though it did little. "She's insistent on going alone this time."
"And you're fine with that?" Cassian demanded of Rhysand. "How can you be fine with that?"
Arwen turned to Lucien. "Have I gone invisible?" Her friend only responded with a slackening jaw as if he meant to answer but nothing would come. Azriel's fingers indented into her thigh, warning her down.
"After everything," continued Cassian. "You're just letting her go off alone?"
A shadow passed over Rhysand's face. "After everything," he said, "I think she deserves to lead her life not tied to ours." Mine, she heard. "If she wishes to go alone then she will go alone."
Arwen leant against the back of her chair, prodding her meal with the prongs of her fork. "Truly, Cassian, it is marvellous how I suddenly exist only when you wish to berate my choices as though I am a mere child. Do you forget that I am less than a hundred years younger than you?"
For what must have been the first time in days, he met her gaze, hard and heavy. Yet still, he said nothing to her.
"I forgot to bring the wine in," Feyre remarked lightly. "The kitchen is a small walkâArwen, why don't you accompany me?"
Arwen broke her stare-off and nodded mutely. She rose from her chair, placing her hand on Azriel's chest as she passed him before slipping away with her sister. "Thank you," she murmured. "And I'm sorry. I don't wish to stain your new home with a fight."
Feyre shook her head with a short smile. "He's being ridiculous," she said as they moved into the kitchen. "No, he's being an Illyrian. An Illyrian with a temper because he cares for you."
Arwen picked up the wine bottle they had indeed left behind and squinted mockingly at her. "I'm an Illyrian too, I'll have you remember, and my temper is fine." Resting the low of her back against the marble bench, she fiddled with the green bottle's peeling label. "It hurts more than anything."
Feyre pulled a new pair of glasses from a cabinet and placed them on the counter before prying the wine from Arwen and filling them. "I don't think I've ever seen him like this. He was angry at me too. When I left to spy on the Spring Court. Yet even then he reigned it in for my sake. Are you sure there's nothing else bothering him?"
Arwen took her new glass. "If there is, he's not telling me. And unless he does, then I'm not interested to know."
Feyre toasted her glass to the air. Arwen smiled dryly and sipped at her drink.