A Court of Light and Melody

Chapter 66 - See Her

Everything is negotiable. Whether or not the negotiation is easy is another thing.

- Carrie Fisher

Song: Let Her Go - Passenger

The next morning, or rather a few hours after Gwyn had snuck out and spoke with Lucien, she was woken by a set of fingers raking through her hair. Her scalp tingled pleasurably and she opened her eyes with a smile of contentment.

Azriel was lying next to her atop the duvet, dressed in a new slate grey tunic and trousers. He'd been up for a while clearly.

Gwyn blinked. "What time is it?" she asked groggily. "Did I miss Elain's..." but Gwyn trailed off.

Elain's what? Confession? Meeting? Trial?

Azriel shook his head. "No. But we're all meeting in the dining area shortly." His brows knitted together, expression concerned. "Are you certain that you still feel up to attending?"

She scoffed. Gwyn had managed to slip past the Spymaster undetected and creep all the way to the cellar last night. She was more than capable of sitting at a table...

But when she attempted to rise up onto her elbows, her whole body ached, her head pounded.

Perhaps her midnight run had been a poor idea... Her body was still recovering from the battle and she hadn't done it any favors in getting so little rest yesterday.

Gwyn fell back against the pillows with a grunt of defeat.

It was becoming increasingly more evident that even if she had been training with this magic for years, her gifts were not intended to be used like that. If not for her own health, then for her peace of mind.

Rhysand wielded that particular gift and he did so carefully, rarely using it. She knew why. It felt wrong.

Gwyn suddenly wondered if the High Lord needed someone to talk to about the battle, about however he had crept into every mind that followed him and convinced them to feign their submission to Graysen. Had he compelled them or simply given a silent command? It would've been his decision, and Gwyn did not know Rhysand well enough to discern what choice he'd made.

"Gwyn," Azriel said, interrupting her thoughts. He grimaced. "I know it's important to you that you be present for... this. I also know there's no talking you out of anything you've set your mind to. So I'm going to go to the first aid station and get you a quick-acting pain tonic."

"Thank—"

Before she could finish, Azriel held up a finger, silencing her. "On one condition."

She sneered. "Very well."

The hand that had been massaging her scalp lowered to cup the side of her face. "Tell me what troubles you."

She wondered if she would ever become accustomed to someone - even her friends - being so mindful of her emotions. It seemed as though everyone who surrounded her cared. Not pitied her - they cared. They cared so much. Emerie. Nesta. Cassian. The priestesses. Azriel. And potentially his whole family.

The fabric of the duvet whispered as Azriel shifted closer. "Are you worried about Elain?"

She could hear just a hint of anger beneath the mention of the second oldest Archeron. Gwyn wondered if he would ever truly forgive Elain for what she'd done. For what she'd almost cost him.

Finally, Gwyn shook her head. "I was just thinking about... what I did. With my magic..."

As was typical with Azriel, the words came rushing out of her like a flood. Gwyn told him how she had felt fatigued not only mentally and physically, but also emotionally after using her voice to make all of the soldiers bend. She told him that it had felt wrong to use her power in such a way. That it had left her guilt-ridden but somehow proud. And that she was ashamed.