A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 22 - Become Endless

"Without knowledge action is useless and knowledge without action is futile."

- Abu Bakr

Song: 100 Years - Florence + The Machine

True to his word, Azriel brought Gwyn back to the House of Wind the next day, then escorted her down to the library.

"I'll be staying in my quarters here tonight... so if you have need of me, let me know."

Gwyn could've sworn Azriel sounded hopeful when he made the offer. She also noted that he'd looked a little wistful as their bargain marks vanished.

"And if I see you in the training ring before tomorrow evening, I'm bringing Madja here to chastise you back into bed. Without books," he said with a crooked grin that made her heart stutter. "I need you fully healed for our assignment, so try not to use any texts with more than six thousand pages until you're fully recovered."

Gwyn smiled, folding her arms. "A compromise then. Eight thousand."

"It's a bargain."

And again that prickling sensation as what appeared to be a paragraph of illegible scrawlings inked across both of their forearms.

"Son of a bitch..." Azriel grumbled, his expression utterly defeated.

Gwyn couldn't help the cackle that burst from her. How long had it been since she laughed so freely? The question only served to make her laugh harder. Across from her Azriel was chuckling softly, his eyes on the new tattoo.

Gwyn's own laughter earned her a curious glance from a passing priestess.

Another priestess poked a white haired head out from behind a bookcase.

Merrill.

The beautiful priestess looked as though she were about to speak, but her eyes landed on Azriel and she clamped her mouth shut. But not before glowering at Gwyn and pressing her index finger to her lips.

Gwyn bit her knuckle trying to stifle her snickering.

"You got in trouble," Azriel said, his voice trembling with a suppressed laugh. " Sh ..."

"You ' sh ,'" Gwyn countered as she caught her breath. "How do you keep doing this? That's twice now."

"I'm not about to defend myself. You're just going to call me a liar," he drawled. "Go off and do your reading, priestess."

Gwyn gestured to her leggings and sweater. "Just Gwyn today. Not a priestess." And as such, she would be able to read uninterrupted by Merrill. Merrill... "What the hell did you say to her before we left to meet with Rhysand that day? She's only glared at me lately. I haven't been insulted once..."

The shadows peering over his shoulders seemed to slow in their near-constant movements. A muscle ticked in Azriel's jaw as his eyes drifted to where they'd last seen Merrill. "Nothing so drastic. Just the truth."

"Tell me what you said, Shadowsinger," she pressed with an arched brow.

"You're not going to let this go," he groused. "I can tell."

"Do I ever?"

Azriel inclined his head, lowering his voice. "I only told her that if she took issue with your absence or commitment to the Valkyries, she could consult with me or the High Lord." He paused, and Gwyn could see a hint of shame cross his handsome features. "And perhaps my shadows were a little overly enthusiastic and grew rather large." Gwyn's eyes widened, and she could see that shame once again on the shadowsinger's face. "Truly, I did not intend to appear so menacing. I know that despite her cruelty to you, she's just another priestess trying to survive. But my shadows sometimes act on their own. Or act on... on what I feel subconsciously."