A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 49 - Hollow

"Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly."

- William Shakespeare

Bruises - Lewis Capaldi

Tamlin had found Gwyn sitting on the kitchen counter the next morning - staring at the backyard and willing Azriel to return.

The High Lord of Spring hadn't asked her why she looked dead tired or why she wasn't being her usual, chatty self. He'd only set to making tea and said: "There is a dogwood tree at the crest of the hill, beneath it there's a bench. It provides a good view of the town." A noncommittal shrug. "It would be a good place for someone to monitor the Spring Court's evacuation... It is also a good place to be alone."

Gwyn hadn't thanked him for the excuse or for his understanding. Only slipped off the counter and left, walking and walking until she reached the hill he mentioned.

She started up the incline, ignoring the burning in her thighs and ignoring the beauty of the sun rising over the village below. Ignoring the roaring in her brain as she slumped onto the stone bench and stared off at the milling residents of Spring while they made their way north towards the Summer Court.

Damn her and her curiosity. Why had she been so eager to know the darkest parts of him? Why hadn't she just gone back to sleep? But most importantly: how did she fix this?

You have to wait, Gwyn. You have to wait until he's back and ready to talk.

But she wanted things fixed now. She didn't want to wait. She wanted to never have made the decision to spy on Azriel. To never have breached his trust like she did. To never have inserted herself in a narrative where she did not belong. Where no one Azriel loved belonged.

Gwyn wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she was finding herself growing incredibly hungry...

Then, a hulking form sat down beside her, in his hand a steaming roll of bread.

"For you," Cassian said, extending the bread to her. "Nesta purchased a whole basket of them in town."

Gwyn accepted the roll with a nod of gratitude, then she offered him the best smile she could muster before turning her attention back to the village.

Hopefully Cassian would believe her smile was genuine or not care enough to say either way. She prayed it was the former. Prayed that her facade was stronger than she felt.

But the Illyrian general just sat next to her while she tore off bits of the bread and ate them in silence.

Gwyn found that she almost wanted him to stay... She almost wanted to talk to him. Almost .

But it was he who spoke first:

"He's back," Cassian said simply.

Gwyn nodded, swallowing. "He's safe then."

"He's safe."

Gwyn could hear the unspoken words. But he is upset... But he is angry with you... But you have made him sad...

Gwyn exhaled shakily and took another bite of the bread. She wanted to talk to Azriel. She wanted to make this right. She wanted to fix what she had broken, give back what she had stolen.

Gods, she wouldn't blame him if he didn't share another thing with her. She wouldn't blame him if he wanted time away from her to re-evaluate his feelings about the mating bond. Eavesdropping on him like that had been such a violation and—

"I remember the first time I saw Azriel... work." Gwyn flinched at Cassian's words, but the general did her the favor of pretending he did not notice. "He's a different male when he's conducting interrogations. He's not Azriel he's... he's the Spymaster." When Gwyn didn't respond he continued. "He's still the same arrogant, stubborn, smart ass you've always known. There's nothing to be frightened of—"