A Court of Witches and Curses

CHAPTER FOUR

EDEN'S POV

The morning and my nightmare blend together in that way they often do.

My nightmares don't bring me the same amount of horror they used to, now they're just a producer of numb pain. I wake as an image of a limp body and the echo of my own scream slip to the front of my mind.

I stretch easily, rolling onto my stomach while wrinkling bedsheets. I'm comfortable in the bliss of not quite being awake until the sunlight stirs me enough to allow my last memory to play in my head. I didn't fall asleep here. My last memory is of the library and Azriel.

How did I get here? I sit up quickly, the thought of him carrying me to bed like some kind of child is embarrassing enough to chase away the remnants of sleep. Perhaps the thought of that would leave my face less red if that strange moment hadn't happened in the training room. It was so...different. Different from even Cassian's not so subtle teasing.

I want to tell Feyra, but she seems to be weighed by so many things I don't want to give her any reason to be uneasy. I'm not sure she'd necessarily be bothered or worried, but why risk it? She's always been a bit protective, concerned that growing up in Court made me soft in certain ways. Perhaps it did considering I know so little about relationships outside of the proper steps of an arranged marriage. I'm not naive enough to think anyone here would be interested in me, not in this world of ethereal beauty and perfectly shaped bodies. So why risk worrying her?

Mindlessly, I begin to fix my bedhead, parting my hair with my fingers and smoothing out my waves. I change for breakfast quickly, a little unsure of what today's plans will be. I'm not sure if I've made things awkward, but I'll deal with that when I have to. Technically, I just went along with everything that happened, even when I wasn't completely sure what was going on. Again, the thought of discussing it with Feyra comes to mind but I rule it out just as quickly as I did last time. Why risk worrying her without a real cause? Cassian and Azriel can decide if anything is awkward, and their general confidence level tells me they don't consider much awkward.

Feyra's head perks up slightly when she sees me. I smile at her and take silent note of the fact that she looks a little more tired than she did the last time I saw her. Where has she been disappearing to?

I sit down next to her. "You okay?"

She nods her head once. Curt. "I just didn't sleep well."

Her words come out smaller than she normally speaks. The difference isn't large, but I know Feyra better than I know myself. On instinct, I reach a hand forward. She retracts her palm before I can grab her hand. It's her polite way of telling me that she doesn't want to risk her privacy. The reminder that anyone that touches me risks such vulnerability stings more than it should.

"Sorry," I turn my head quickly, attempting to recover.

I reach blankly for a strawberry tart; at least the food is a lovely distraction. Before I can bring my hand back entirely, I feel something nudge my foot from beneath the table. On instinct, I push back just slightly, my head turning towards the direction the nudge came from. Azriel's neutral expression drops just slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards just slightly. My eyes narrow at him just slightly as I push down some of the warmth that rises to my chest. He's trying to annoy me, but the willing, unnecessary physical contact tugs at my emotions after Feyra's accidental reminder.

"I didn't mean it like that," Feyra whispers.

I nod once, "I know--I wouldn't want someone accidentally poking around in my past and future either."

"I'll tell you about it later."

It seems that's all people know how to promise. A quick flash of my nightmare pushes itself to the front of my mind. "Yeah."