Chapter 19
Cassian's mouth rounded, taking a step of action forward as the coloured water made a waterfall down Rhysand's front, soaking the loose, black collared shirt. "Whoa, sweetheart," he said, taking the glass from Arwen's hand. "That's Rhys, not Azriel."
She didn't relent her glare. "I know damn well who he is. And he knows damn well what he did."
Cassian considered then that he might take back his musing about the siblings never bringing out true anger in each other. His eyes flooded with uncertainty, then turned on Rhysand with accusation. The High Lord gaped at his sister, wiping a hand down his open mouth. "Me?"
Arwen took a step forward as Cassian placed the glass safely on the bench. "Yes, you." There was a fire burning in her eyes in a way that made her eyes no longer look like a gleaming jewel, but molten. "You know exactly what you did."
Cassian stepped even closer, moving to grip both her arms from behind. Not to restrain, but to offer something to gravitate to. "Arwen, Azriel is fine. They both are." It was the only reason he could guess she'd be this upset. But how she knew what had happened through the night was a mystery, unless she hadn't been as unconscious as he thought.
Rhysand collected himself, not taking a step away, seeming to confidently believe that she would do little else to himâphysically, at least. And Cassian believed it too, which was why his grip was firm but gentle. "Arwenâwhat he said to you... You expect me to ignore that?"
What had Azriel said to her, was the question reeling through Cassian's mind. His lips parted as he debated butting in to ask.
But Arwen's, "I don't care about that," stopped him. And Rhysand. She stood stiffly under the warrior's grasp, not even acknowledging that it was there. "Of course I don't want him hurt, but that's not why I'm upset. You're my brother and I know you would defend me to your last breath just as I would for you, so I am not upset that you acted in my defence. I'm not upset that you were angry on my behalf." Her chest lifted in a heaved breath. It sounded as though she was pushing herself to get those words out whilst she remained composed. He wasn't sure if it was so that Rhysand understood, or if she wanted to clarify it with herself first. "But I didn't need your anger, Rhysand. I didn't need you to do anything."
Rhysand rolled his jaw. "It wasn't your anger I was acting on. It was mine. It was my own anger and I have a right to do with it as I will."
"It wasn't your memory to be angry about!"
This time, Cassian did tighten his grip as she moved forward, but moved the step with her so he didn't hold her trapped in one place. "This would be a lot easier to keep up with if I understood what was going on," he groused, not really expecting to be heard, let alone acknowledge.
Arwen lifted her chin and leant back slightly until her shoulder lightly tapped against his breast. "My dear brother," she sang lowly, "decided to get me drunk all in the efforts of making me talk about things I didn't want to."
Cassian's eyes managed to dull yet sharpen at the same time as they moved from the side of the female's head across the Rhysand who had the face of a guilty male caught red-handed in the act. Not in the regret of being caught, the general did note, but with distress at what it had come to. Still, he said, "I had to, Arwen. You wouldn't tell me what he said to you, and I could see that it was hurting you."
"You shouldn't have pried."
"He hurt you!"
"Ten years ago!" Arwen screamed, her voice rasping at the end. Rhysand was panting slightly now and Cassian's gaze was determinedly flickering between them both. "He hurt me ten years ago. But he had never done anything like that since. I don't know what was going through his head when he said those things and I never asked. Most days I forget about it but there are other times that yes, it does hurt and yesterday happened to be one of them."
Cassian wasn't sure what to make of the fact that whatever had passed occurred a near-decade ago. No wonder Azriel had no idea what was coming for him. It would be a wonder if he even remember it. But by the hurt on Arwen's face just at speaking about it, he was certain that Azriel would know.
"Then how can you be upset at me if it still hurts you?" Rhysand asked, his own voice turning breathless as he took a step forward, near eliminating any protective distance between them. Cassian's hands dropped slightly down her arms as Rhysand lifted his to the sides of her neck.
"You're not listening to me, Rhys!" It was a pained, desperate call to be heard. One that had Rhysand in silence, a deep line over his nose as Arwen looked up at him. "It happened ten years ago. I've had time to move on. I understand that it is fresh for you and I understand why you lashed out because of it. But you hurt me last night."
Cassian watched as muscles rippled under the High Lord's jaw and he knew that her words hurt him right back.
"You made a promise to me," she continued, "that you wouldn't pry through my mind to know these things."
Cassian could tell that Rhysand's response was weak even before the words came into existence. "I didn'tâ"
"You didn't go into my mind. No. You decided that you'd find a way around that promise and make me tell you myself. That's what hurt me, Rhys." Arwen had lost the molten touch, he noticed, taking a minor step back and to the side at the same time that Rhysand dropped his hands. "I think I would have rather you have just broken your promise and burrowed through my head than lie and manipulate your way around it. At least I would know what your intentions were and that what you're doing isn't some game to try and fiddle your way to what you want. I played that game with you because I thought I was safe to drink around you."
Rhysand's nostrils flared. There was a new agitation that enveloped himâone that Cassian didn't think entirely fit the fight at hand. "You didn't have to throw that drink on me. It was childish of you."
"Childish," she echoed airily, tipping head back. "Maybe if you stop treating me like one then I'll stop feeling the need to acquiesce to that vision you have of me, High Lord. I'm done with this conversation."
She barely needed to tug from Cassian's hands, slipping out of her spot between them and back into the hallway where her step retreated to the upstairs rooms. Rhysand sighed, waving his hand and drying his clothes. Then he leant forward and down against the bench just next to Cassian. He crossed his arms and buried his head inside them.
Cassian himself needed a few moments to gather his thoughts, placing all the new bits of information he gathered to form the story in his head. Begrudgingly, he was still missing the piece of what Azriel had actually said to ignite this entire thing. "That was low," he muttered once he was sure Arwen would no longer hear them. The town house had been properly insulated and relatively soundproof through the floors. "Calling her childish." He didn't remark on the rest of the fight, seeing at it wasn't his place.
Rhysand made an audible sigh and lifted his head, distraught painted across it. "I know," he murmured. "I'm... I'm so used to her fighting like a youngling. Crying and sulking." I didn't know how to fight back, Cassian filled in the rest of the unsaid explanation.
It was true, and a bit of him was shamed to see that she noticed itâhow they viewed her as so young. Despite being nearly two hundred years of age, barely eighty years younger than himself, even Cassian saw her still as the young half-Illyrian child that he adored visiting. A moment away from the bloodshed and viciousness of the camps. A giggling girl that clung to his side where her head barely met his hips for many years. One that would sneak into his room when he was around and she managed to peeve off her brother but wanted company to sleep with.
"I had to do it, Cass," he whispered, offering a shrug of his shoulders that mimed that it was all that he had. "I know it was horrible of me but I had toâ"
Cassian held up a hand. "Don't bother explaining to me. I'm not the one that needs to hear it."
"You're angry with me too," Rhysand observed.
"I'm making myself a bystander," he corrected. "You and Azriel are at each other's throats, now you and Arwen. No doubt there'll be tensions between her and Az whenever he decides to rejoin us so I think there's enough tension happening that I don't need to jump in and give my hearty opinions on the matter."
Rhysand rested his weight onto his palm braced on the bench. "Mor will," he muttered with a broken chuckle. Cassian made a look of quicky agreeance. "You should have seen her yesterday. There was something that she saidâ"
Rhysand cut himself off as the stairs creaked in warning. The pair looked towards the large entrance to the kitchen, watching as Arwen descended the main staircase now dressed for the day ahead. She said nothing, only glimpsing in their direction before heading to the front foyer and eventually out into the city.
"Go with her."
The request wasn't completely unnatural to be heard, but the urgency in the High Lord's tone had Cassian staring at him in uncertainty. "Where is she going?"
"I don't know but, Cass... She said something to me yesterday and..." Rhysand pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "I can't stop thinking over it." Cassian was about to ask further until an image was flung into his head. A memory, more correctly. He remained silent, watching Arwen through Rhysand's eyes as they argued over something about going flying.
When the memory ended, Cassian looked to Rhysand, unsure why such a few short sentences out of the whole ordeal had him so concerned, until an echo of her words at Rhysand's push, replayed in his head and suddenly he understood. And he wasn't sure he blamed Rhysand anymore for going to the lengths he did.
"So please, stay with her. She won't let me and I'm guessing Mor is already in Hewn City."
He nodded diligently. "Of course. But on one condition." Rhysand's face darkened at the idea of making a condition out of such a request. But Cassian only nodded upwards. "Go fix my damn mountain while we're out."
Rhysand managed a tired scoff. "You're mountain?"
"Fine then, your mountain. Until it gets fixed," he added under his breath. At another huff, he placed his hand on Rhysand's shoulder and squeezed. "She'll be fine. Like she said, it's been ten years and she's been through a lot of other things since then."
"Exactly," Rhysand whispered back. "With everything that she's gone through, everything she's currently going through, it's only making me more worried. She lost both her parents within days. Her mate is..." That needed nothing more said. "And she had her wings cut from her. Not just broken but cut out. You can't tell me that you wouldn't rather die than lose your wings."
Cassian couldn't deny it.
"She doesn't have our mother anymore. She probably feels like she doesn't have Azriel either and now she might feel like she doesn't have me. So as High Lord I am ordering you to stay with Arwen. Stay with her even if she doesn't want you there. Fly overhead I don't careâjust watch her." The pained words almost elicited a comforting response from the general, but like many times in the past day, he didn't have many.
"I'll take care of her." Rhysand lifted his head and Cassian offered a grim smile. "You know I always do."
Cassian ruffled his wings, as if making a motion that symbolised the shedding of everything that had just past in front of him then made way to the front of the town house to catch up with the half-Illyrian female. "I still don't know what that shadowbastard said."