The Last Queen (An ACOTAR / Azriel fanfiction)

Too Pure

When Daggerheart came back in the morning, Azriel had been putting on his clothes so he could leave.

"Good morning, spymaster. I hope you slept well." She shook off her boots and discarded her blades on a sofa.

"Good morning." He searched her clothes for any sign of where she had been. "I did, thank you."

She nodded and sucked on her teeth as she made her way around the kitchen, stumbling over things.

Before he could ask her where she had been, she twisted the lid of a container and bit her lip to keep in a hiss of pain. His eyes snapped towards her wrist and there, peeking from the sleeve, was a huge bruise that had turned black. Just behind her ear, where she had tied her hair back, he noticed a spray of blood. The red drops slid down her neck but there was no other wound visible which meant that it was someone else's blood.

"You left after dinner last night." He said, looking away from her.

"Yes. I-" she tied her hair in a tighter bun. "had some work to do."

"Did that involve killing someone by any chance?" He raised his eyebrows and Daggerheart laughed dryly, "You torture people for a living."

He shrugged, "I wasn't accusing you of anything. I was simply interested."

"Well,-" she opened the window to let in some air. "- don't get very interested in my life."

He peered over her shoulder and outside the kitchen window. There were no houses in sight. Only rolling midows spread as far as one could see. Tall grass swayed in the cold wind and the flowers were still wet from the rain that had only stopped a few hours ago. Daggerheart closed her eyes and leaned onto the counter. A blue butterfly flew in and landed on her stack of books and Azriel watched it slowly flap its magnificent wings while Daggerheart splashed her face with water.

Finally, she broke the silence, "Her father wanted to sell her."

He realised with a jolt that she was talking about the little girl who had died.

"Her brother tried to save her but she fell from the roof." Then, she whispered, " She was only seven." Her grip on an empty cup by the sink tightened. She threw it against the wall and it shattered, "What kind of sick and twisted father sells his own child?"

"I don't think he was father at all." Azriel thought and realised he had said it out loud only when he found Daggerheart looking at him. Her chest heaving, she looked outside again, "No. I don't think he was." She agreed.

He fiddled with his fingers, " What kind of sick and twisted person buys a seven year old girl?"

Daggerheart's face was red by now. She said nothing but he could see the promise of a painful death in her eyes.

"I must leave."

"Yes." She nodded with her head down. "Your family would think you're dead if you don't."

"Thank you for letting me stay." He got up from the sofa and backed up towards the door.

He saw her sit heavily on a chair as she whispered, "Thank you for staying." before he turned around and left.

He returned to the house of wind only to see everyone gathered in the hall. Well, everyone except Rhysand.

"He went to the human realm." Feyre said. "He thought something was wrong because neither of you came."

"There was a terrible storm. It rained all night." Azriel explained.

Mor smirked, "So you were at Daggerheart's all night?"