A Court of Shadowed Hearts (ON HIATUS)

Chapter Two

Cadryn POV

"This is ridiculous!" Angrily, I kick at the stone floor of the healers apartment.

"Would you stop abusing my house?" Vanitha scolds from across the table.

The healers apartment was one of the most visited parts of Velaris, and the moments I had to complain to my guardian in private were rare. "But Rhysand wants me to work with him. Him of all people! I mean, why couldn't I be assigned with Cassian? He's so much nicer and actually smiles!"

"You know that wouldn't make sense, Ryn. He's a mated male, and his duties to the Night Court are different." Vanitha shakes her head, kneading the soft bread dough with expert hands. "If you don't stop worrying about it you'll get a stomach ache."

I roll my eyes. "I know, I know; but how can I possibly work with the male I've resented my entire life?"

I'd left Rhysand's study yesterday on shaky legs. Working with Azriel, the infamous Spymaster, would entail spending more than five seconds around him. I didn't think I could stomach it, not without saying something that was bound to get me in trouble. With him, and Rhysand.

"Haven't you learned anything from me the past seven years?" Vanitha pauses her baking to finally look up at me. She lifts a dark hand to her face to brush a curl out of her eyes. "You've got to push through the hard things if you want to get to your goal. Don't let the Spymaster get in the way of you finally beginning to see that dream of yours come true."

I slouch in my chair. "I guess you're right." I mutter.

"Of course I'm right," she replies. "I'm always right."

A smile tugs at my lips. Vanitha often gave me motherly lectures when I wasn't asking for them, especially when I wasn't in the mood; but I always let her. I got the feeling some part of her always tried to fill the gap my parents left when they died, and it would be wrong of me to be anything but grateful for it.

Rising, I say, "Well, I'd better go and pack: Rhysand said we'll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

I walk to the room I'd occupied for the past seven years, feeling nostalgic about leaving it, even if it was only for a while. The small space was slightly crammed, only a bed and a lone desk could fit, but I'd made it home. More than a dozen pieces of cream paper filled the walls, adorned with sketches of things I'd seen and never wanted to forget: a mother lovingly cradling her baby in her arms, a male shielding his mate from the rain with his coat, a bouquet of flowers sent just because a lover felt like it. Simple things that held no real meaning, but stood out all the same.

I grab my bag from the floor - still left out since I went straight to Rhysand's office after returning from the Autumn Court - and start packing the few items of clothing I own in it. Though I wore my Illyrian leathers most, I still had a few comfy sweaters and leggings for my days off.

I spend the rest of the day training, one because I hadn't been able to while on my last mission, and two because it took my mind off of Azriel.

One thing about healers is that they were always cared for by the city's taxes; it was how the citizens of Velaris paid for their visits and treatment without needing to pay additional fees. Having a comfortable salary meant Vanitha could afford a bath.

"Thank the Cauldron," I groan as I sink into the warm water, letting the heat soothe my aching muscles. Ducking under the surface, I run my fingers through my white blond hair, untangling the knots and rinsing out the slight bit of dirt that had gathered. If I wasn't so preoccupied with holding my breath, I would have scowled. Though the Autumn Court was one of the most beautiful places in Prythian with its cloudy skies and intense orange and brown landscape, it was less beautiful when you were hiding in a tree or crawling into muddy ditches to avoid detection. Getting dirty was the one downside to my job; the one thing I might complain about.

I break through the surface, sucking in a breath. Azriel. I'm going to be working with Azriel.

To most people he probably seemed to be only the brooding Spymaster of the most powerful High Lord - a threat but only if provoked. But to me it was more than that: he was the one who had been given the place at Rhysand's side long before he'd even become High Lord of the Night Court; he'd proven to be one of the best spies on the continent yes, but it meant that the rest of us had to work so much harder to live up the that same standard.

I scoff, If Vanitha could hear my thoughts she would scold me to death. Fine, maybe I did sound like a silly child, whining about something completely childish, but I can't help how I feel, especially when I feel like this often. What would mother and father say if they saw me now? So close to being given a title worthy of the family name?

Tears prickle the back of my eyes. Tears spilling for the same emotions that had been repeating for the past seven years: anger, pain, grief, longing. How many times do you have to feel something before you become numb to it?

Wiping my nose, I take a deep breath. Alright, it'll all be fine. I'd make it fine.

I emerge from the bathroom dressed in a comfortable robe, patting my hair dry with a towel, and am met with the most divine aroma. Meat cooked in a tomato sauce and seasoned with the finest herbs, served with pasta. My favourite.

"What's all this?" I ask, taking my seat at the usual spot. "You shouldn't have spent so much time cooking for me."

"How could I not when you're leaving tomorrow...again." Though Vanitha smiles at me as she serves the two of us, I catch the glimmer of sadness at my going away again.

Gently, I grab her wrist, forcing her to put down the pot and meet my eyes. "I'm sorry," I say. Tears pool in her eyes. "I promise I won't be gone long; Rhysand said it will only be a few weeks. And when I get back we'll start working on getting you a bigger garden." I smile at her, feeling my own heart clench at the thought of leaving the woman who had cared for me since my parents had died.

She pats my cheek, her lovely honey coloured eyes setting off her dark brown skin. "Your mother would be so proud of you Ryn."
I sniff away my tears, placing my hand over hers.

"But you would annoy the hell out of her," Vanitha playfully smacks my cheek before turning back to the table.

I grin. "You're going to have a hard time getting a male to want to be stuck with me for the rest of his life."

She laughs, knowing full well that I never planned to marry.

The rest of the evening goes by with our normal routine: I clean the dishes while Vanitha prepares any potions and medicines she'll need for tomorrows patients. Then I read to her until she falls asleep.

Being a healer would take a toll on anyone and even the strongest woman I know is no exception; so every night I read aloud at her bedside, knowing that the words calm her mind. I was of the strong opinion that only words had the power to calm a roaring mind; to speak the things our soul needs to hear.

After tucking the covers right up to her chin and planting a kiss on the old woman's cheek I wobble to my own room, somehow exhausted from the day.

As I fall asleep, staring out the window at the glistening City of Starlight, I send one last prayer to the Cauldron.

Please let Azriel not show up tomorrow.