Chapter 24
Cassian looked utterly miserable. Arwen hadn't expected him nor Azriel to be at the townhouse, never mind that they were dripping wet. Azriel didn't seem to mind it, standing off to the side of the sitting room near the hearth, beads still clinging to his hair and making strange patterns on the waterproofed leather. Cassian, however, moped.
"Please tell me Amren has taught you to use your magic?" he bemoaned, sitting against the lounge. His wings were slightly spread, allowing him to lean deep into the cushion without too much discomfort. Wet, black tendrils of his long hair clung like whisps to the fabric.
"I didn't spend hours getting chastised to learn how to dry you off," Arwen rebutted. Rhysand and Mor evidently were not home, who would both have quickly whisked away the water before the Illyrians soaked their living space. "But I did bring you this," she added, tossing one of the potted balms in his direction, placing the others down on a table. Cassian snorted and placed it to the side. "Why are you two here, anyway?"
"Azriel received some information from one of his sources down in the Spring Court," he answered, voice edging darker. "We were going to talk to Rhys about it but he's not here and I'm not flying through another storm."
Arwen slowly moved towards the hearth, crossing her arms and turning her back to the flames to dry off her hair as she stood. "The Spring Court?" she echoed softly. "What's happening down there?"
Cassian did not say anything at first, looking first at Arwen, then at Azriel. Arwen followed the turn of attention to the spymaster a few paces to her right. Shadows engulfed him, curling widely rather than the usual rest she would see them with. One stretched along the wall, over the sharp corner of the small shelf above the hearth and towards her.
"It's nothing to worry about," he told her, voice low but soft. "Just that they might reach out to Rhysand and we wanted to give him a warning." Arwen frowned but his gaze remained soft and retreated. By 'they', she guessed he meant him.
"Two of Beron's sons were killed," Cassian interjected, answering the lack of substance Azriel offered her.
Tipping her head, she blankly said, "Praying for Eris."
Cassian snorted again and Azriel turned his head away, all three of them with full awareness of the potential heir of the Autumn Court's history with Mor. Something that was neither easily forgotten, nor forgiven.
"No," Azriel murmured. "Lain and Créan." Arwen could only shrug, not knowing them personally. "His youngest, Lucien, abandoned his court and fled to Spring. Beron sent three of his other sons on a chase after him. Tamlin and Lucien each killed one, the other bolted."
"Lucien?" Arwen whispered, smothering her wince at the High Lord's name. "I remember him. He attended one of our balls in the Court of Nightmares a few years ago. I actually liked him." Not to mention he was quite handsome. It was a pity he had fled south instead of north. "If the Spring Courtâ" she couldn't bring herself to say his nameâ "has just killed two of Beron's sons, they aren't going to be on good terms."
It had been hard, being the face of something maleficent and knowing that the person receiving it wasn't aware of the mask when you wanted nothing more than to remove it for them. Of course, she never risked it, lest he say something about her softness to his family. They had to believe how dangerous they could be. How she wasn't a weakness to Rhysandâwhich people knew she was, or the dead High Lord of the Spring Court would not have come after her and her mother to get to Rhysand. But Arwen couldn't let that happen again. She couldn't let people think that hurting her would be easy.
"No," Cassian drew out in hearty agreement. She imagined he would toast to her if he had a drink in hand.
"And you think they're going to reach out to Rhys?" she circled back, unleashing a chest sound of haughtiness. "For what? An alliance? He's mad if he thinks Rhysand will agree to that." Arwen smiled maniacally at them both, but was met with solemn expressiona. Her chest dropped. "Rhys wouldn't, would he?"
Cassian sighed and leant forward, arms across his thighs. "Of course he wouldn't, sweetheart."
Arwen looked to Azriel for confirmation, not trusting that Cassian wouldn't just say that to comfort her. Azriel nodded. "He wouldn't think of it. Which is why I want to give him the warning, so he has time to come up with a diplomatic response."
"Why would that low life even consider writing to my brother?" She tightened her arms across her chest and turned her front towards the flames. "They haven't spoken in a decade after he betrayed Rhys."
"Pressure," Cassian suggested behind her. "He's still a new High Lord by many people's accounts. He's just lost any alliance he might have had with Autumn, it's rocky with the other seasonal courts if Az's sources are correct."
Azriel snorted as if to say they are always correct. Arwen admired the trust he had in them.
"He doesn't have any standing with Dawn or Day Court. Helion isn't High Lord yet but you remember the hysteric he went into when he saw you for the first time after..."
His voice died early. Arwen turned around, offering Cassian a smile to tell him that she wasn't wounded by the memory. "So he's throwing a fishing line into a shallow pond then. Someone has to be pressuring him to do something. Someone in his close court. He never wanted to be High Lordâwas never good at politics either." She had met Tamlin a few times, mostly when he and Rhysand had been training together and she watched from a distance, hidden on a high tree branch. And admittedly eavesdropped on a few conversations.
"Maybe he's hoping to convince Rhys that he wanted no part in what happened," Azriel suggested.
Arwen spun her glare on him. "He must have forgotten then that I was there that day and I'm still alive. He must have forgotten how he was the one to pin my body down while his brother cut my wings out from their roots."
Azriel remained rigid, a line of muscle rippling underneath his tanned skin.
"You told Rhys that Tamlin never touched you that day." Arwen broke her long stare at the spymaster, half-turning her head back to Cassian who had risen to his feet.
She shrugged one shoulder. "He already felt betrayed that T-Tamlin told his father of our plans and for what his family did. Telling him that Tamlin was the one to hold me down would have changed nothing for me but Rhys was so distressed... It would have ruined him. Sent him over the edge. It wasn't worth telling him."
There came an era of silence between them, one that Arwen was comfortable letting simmer as they divulge her new information and she divulged theirs. A tickling touch drew her gaze down to her arm where the shadow reaching for her earlier now snaked from her wrist to her shoulder. Protectively. Possessively. As if leashing her to its owner.
Low and darkâthe side of him that was reserved for times when he was a spymaster and not a friend, Azriel said, "Maybe we shouldn't give Rhys the warning."
"It's almost like you want anarchy, Azriel," she crooned quietly. He made no visible sign of response, but the shadow tightened its coiling and the tail end licked up the side of her neck, exploring underneath her hair. "I'll be out tonight, but Rhys and Mor should be back in a few hours. I think they said something about visiting temples. Keeping up with their images if my guess counts."
Like a pinch to a flame, Cassian followed her signal and flipped his expression. "Out? Is there alcohol, because you have my company if there is."
"I don't remember asking for it," she hummed.
He threw his arms out to the side. "How come I'm not invited? I'm invited to everything. Where are you going?"
"Out," she repeated. "Despite what you may think, I'm not obliged to tell you everything."
Cassian narrowed his eyes, now pulling his arms across his chest. "But you do tell me everything. So why not this?" Arwen pulled a face. He pulled one back and then pointed a finger at her. "I'll tell Rhys that you're sneaking out."
"Seriously, because I want to go out alone you are going to tattle on me?"
Azriel shuffled to her side, facing towards the flames where she now faced the rest of the room. He leaned to her ear as they stood shoulder to shoulder. "I'll distract him. He'll forget all about you."
Arwen smiled, eyes thinning at the rise of her cheeks and nudged him with the point of her elbow as Cassian groused, overhearing. There was a part of her that felt guilt for avoiding telling him that she was going to meet another male.
Not that it should matter.
"Would you like an escort?"
Arwen glimpsed back up at him, surprised to see his face entirely turned to her. "I'll be fine. I'm not leaving the city or anything. Besides, it pouring outside and I know how sensitive you boys are to the rain." Grinning, she reached up and lightly swept her fingers over his fringe, small water droplets spraying from it at the movement. Azriel continued staring at her, not even flinching. She held it, forcing her chin to pull it away like removing something from mud. "You also realise that you both keep clothes here that are dry. You think the fire is going to dry you off standing back there?" She flung her arm out at Cassian's drooping shoulders. Laughing, she turned back around to face the fire. "Idiots," she muttered.
Beside her, Azriel smiled under the shadow of his bowed head.