A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 48 - Break That Way

"The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught."

- Lemony Snicket,

Song: Where's My Love - SYML

Gwyn really had promised herself that she would stay away. She had promised that no matter how curious she was or how worried she became that she would not go to the cellar.

But then Azriel's chambers were empty at one in the morning.

And still empty at two in the morning.

And still empty at three thirty in the morning.

That had been her breaking point. Azriel had taken the prisoner to Tamlin's cellar six hours ago. Surely no human could withstand torture for six hours. Hell, she was fae and had barely lasted ten minutes with Nolan. Azriel had to be done and was likely moping somewhere in the manor. He would need her. He would need her reassurances. He would need to be reminded that he wasn't a monster.

It was with that logic that Gwyn pulled on a sweater and leggings then departed her guest chambers in search of Azriel.

The manor was still and quiet - likely everyone was sleeping but Azriel.

When Gwyn reached the grand staircase she noted that the hallway that had been shrouded in vines during her last visit had been stripped of all greenery. The walls were in bad shape but they were no longer reclaimed by ivy. Tamlin had certainly cleaned up for his visitors. She hoped his recovery would sustain after they'd remedied this conflict.

Gwyn descended the stairs silently then searched the parlor, the tea room and the kitchen for Azriel.

He may be on the grounds then...

Gwyn, you know where he is. You know where he is and you came looking for him anyway.

Catrin was right. She knew exactly where Azriel was. He was still in that cellar. Still doing whatever it is he did to extract information from suspects. He'd told her his methods of interrogation were brutal... if they were brutal for the standard victim, what were they like for someone who had harmed his mate?

She'd seen him kill Nolan, gag him with shadows that poured out her captor's nose and mouth and eyes. But that had been an attack - retaliation.

This was work. This was his job. This was torture.

Her feet were moving her towards the back of the kitchen to the door that led down to the cellar. The one that Rhysand had enchanted to block all sound. It was morbid curiosity that drove her forward, and a dash of concern for her mate.

But mostly curiosity.

Gwyn opened the door that led to the cellar steps. It was surprisingly quiet.

The whisper of boots on stone and heavy breathing. At the base of the stairs was another door, cracked open just slightly. A pale wooden one with a black door knob.

Gwyn treaded carefully down the steps, relieved that they didn't creak or groan.

When she reached the cold stone at the bottom, she acted without thinking. If she thought too hard she'd turn back. She'd leave. Gwyn wanted to know Azriel. Every bit of him.

Even the parts he's not ready to share, Gwyn?

Wincing at her sister's words, Gwyn knelt before the small crack, peering inside.

The archer sat in a chair with his back to her, his wrists tied to the arms of his seat and ankles bound. The man's head was hung and it didn't escape Gwyn's notice the puddle of blood on the floor... or the gruesome positioning of his fingers.