Trial of the Valkyrie

Like Real People

Chapter Five - Like Real People

Song: Like Real People Do – Hozier

"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."

― Emily Dickinson

G    W   Y   N

Gwyn stared at her reflection, blinking myopically. These clothes had seemed much less daunting yesterday when she'd purchased them.

But now, examining the way the black leggings hugged the curves of her legs and how even beneath the cobalt tunic you could make out the shape of her breasts, she felt nearly naked. More naked than she did in her fitted leathers. At least in those she felt powerful. Like a Valkyrie. Not some amateur warrior, ready to stand trial and have her fake husband accept her punishment.

She worried her lower lip and slumped back onto the bed, staring out the window of her guest chambers here in the House of Wind. She'd gotten embarrassingly drunk after her talk with Azriel by the river last night. He'd deposited her here, in one of the guest rooms after she'd bemoaned that she couldn't enter the priestess dormitories 'married and drunk.' This morning she'd found the packed bag she'd left in her closet downstairs sitting at the foot of her bed. Gwyn had assumed it was the House's doing until discovering a scrap of paper inside from Emerie saying: Hope you're not too tipsy for breakfast this morning.

She had a slight headache, but that was the worst of it really. Not made any better by the obnoxiously glorious morning just outside. The day was sunny and bright and warm – almost as though it were mocking her. Gwyn scowled at the beautiful, blue sky and crossed her arms.

Nesta would arrive soon to collect her for breakfast. After that, it was off to Windhaven for the foreseeable future.

A chill crept down Gwyn's spine at the thought. During the brief time she'd researched the justice system, she hadn't been able to find much information on the Illyrian Tribunal specifically. However, she had discovered that murder trials could last anywhere between a day to an entire year. Rhysand hadn't been exaggerating.

She uncrossed her arms and folded her hands in her lap, fidgeting in anticipation. The blue gem on her ring finger glinted in the sunlight, catching her eye. She turned her glowering gaze from the dawn horizon to her wedding band.

Gods, was it beautiful with the invoking stone set in it. She'd found it gorgeous before she'd pressed the jewel into the outfitted brackets, with its silvery twisted band and the diamond shape that rested just below her knuckle. Now, though, with this beautiful glowing gem resting in it, it was truly the most beautiful thing she owned. More so than that godsforsaken rose necklace that sat dusty and forgotten in her nightstand down in the dorms.

Not just because it held the invoking stone she still didn't find herself worthy to don on her forehead, but because Azriel had chosen it for her. He'd purchased it with her in mind. Her. The priestess who had become his friend. Not his–

A soft knock came from her door.

Nesta.

"Come in," she called, kneeling at the foot of the bed and slinging the strap of her rucksack over her shoulder.

But when Gwyn rose back up, it wasn't Nesta she found waiting for her. Instead her husband stood in her doorway, a rucksack of his own slung across his back, resting between his wings.

His hazel eyes held something like amusement. "Oh, good. You've stopped singing."

Gwyn's brows shot up. "Singing?"