A Court of Illyrian Hearts

Chapter Thirty-Six

Six months later

Cassian POV

Gripping the borrowed Illyrian blade in my hand I bark orders at the small group of men training before me.

They jump up in the air, arms reaching for the clouded sky, and fall back down into a push up position. One, two, three, and they're back up again. I wheedle them – less harshly than I had to a month ago – to go faster, stronger.

After eight more sets I let them take a breath and give a slight nod of approval at their efforts.

Az, Baelyn and I had been hard at work fixing the inner – and outer – workings of Camp Windhaven (and every last one of the unstable poles) for the past six months, pushing through each slight wave of renewed rebellion and mutiny together. Overall, things were much better – or, getting there.

After Rhysand came to do an evaluation of our progress, he informed us that we were free to leave whenever we wanted; that Azriel and any of his spies who were unoccupied could tie up the last few strings that were leftover.

Today was our last day.

Across the Camp, I hear the sounds of Luke's division training. Over the past few months, he had proved himself as truly repented and after five months we appointed him as temporary leader of the Camp. Under supervision.

The men in front of me finish the last set of exercises and I give them a small nod, a silent signal to disperse.

Luke intercepts me on my way back to the cabin.

'I hear you and Commander Baelyn are leaving today,' he says by way of greeting. Commander Baelyn. It's an effort to keep the pride from my face. He continues, 'I haven't seen her in weeks – is she angry with me again?'

He felt bad for everything, that much was clear, and some small part of me wished I could tell him that forgiveness was in progress. But that would risk exposing the real reason why my mate had been confined to the cabin for the last few weeks.

So I say, 'Betrayal is never an easy subject to forgive or forget; Baelyn feels deeply hurt by what happened.' A half-truth. Though she did express more rage than hurt regarding the subject, a bigger part of her just wanted to leave this part of her life behind. Especially with a new chapter unfolding before us.

The young male's face shifts into something like genuine sorrow – but it's gone in a heartbeat. 'I am...very sorry to hear that.' He says. 'Will you tell her that if there is another way for me to atone I will not hesitate to do it.'

My mate had never mentioned what the relationship between her and the young soldier was like before the rebellion, but it seemed they both wished things had gone differently. Despite Luke's heroic actions that saved us from Sharrah and his aid in the Battle of Fallen Wings...things were still strained, and would be for a long while yet.

Still, I nod.

'And tell her,' he adds. 'tell her...goodbye.'

The sadness in his blue eyes pierces me so deeply that I reach up and pat his shoulder, with a small reassuring smile.

He returns it and then walks away.

I reach the cabin just as the last light of day fades behind the towering mountains.

The small room is only lit by the roaring fire in the hearth. No sign of Baelyn down here.

I leave my muddy boots by the door and trudge up the wooden stairs.

Sprawled on the unmade bed, dark hair unbound and falling freely on the pillows, my mate sleeps, her mouth slightly parted.

My heart clenches in my chest. The fireplace, twin to the one downstairs, made the room warm enough that the covers were pulled slightly off of her slumbering figure.