A Song of Faithless Shadows

3. Bleak and Boundless

Azriel

I should've known I was in for it when Rhysand came to speak to me with Nyx, claiming he came for an update on the rogues. I know he only brings my nephew to our chats when he wants to disarm me. "I'm afraid my reports aren't what we had hoped, rather what we had feared," I grimace as I speak. "The Illyrian rogues have already abandoned their last known camp from my operative. The snow had cleared any signs of their departure, masked the scents with the wind."

Rhysand doesn't ever stop rocking Nyx- who is drifting off to sleep, but I wouldn't accuse the High Lord of looking pleased. "We knew those bastards were going to be evasive," he sighs. "I had just hoped we'd have any sort of lead by this."

"I'll work on it," I say, jaw clenched. "I'll try and squeeze something out. Anything."

Rhys waves me off. "We both know you've likely milked him for all he's worth. It's never taken you any longer than 72 hours to turn a captive inside out," he says. He's not wrong, but still, I don't feel compelled to give up. "It's a dead end. We'll need to try something else."

"What else is there?" I ask. "Do you suggest we camp out in the mountains for weeks? Try and trace them?"

Rhys shrugs. "It's not the worst idea."

A laugh bubbles out of me, a sound that makes Rhys stiffen. "And I wonder who you will send to sniff them out?" It's no secret that Rhysand hasn't been happy with me as of late, much less me with him. I expect there's no one he'd like more to exile to the frigid mountainscape of Illyria.

"And you'd rather be here?" He asks, careful not to raise his voice as Nyx has finally drifted off. "You haven't visited the river house in two months without Feyre explicitly inviting you- though you decline all my invitations."

"You keep me busy," I remind him. "Besides, I couldn't avoid you if I tried. You are my High Lord."

"I am your brother," he corrects. "That used to be the primary descriptor you used for me."

"That hasn't changed," I scoff. "And for you to bring it up as if it could is, frankly, insulting."

"You hold my position against me," he says, stepping closer. "Sorry if I didn't want to see you dead in a blood duel."

He thinks this is about Elain? "Which is rich coming coming from you," my voice is low, but it is no less a warning.

"Careful."

"Again," I clench my jaw. "Rich coming from you."

He shuts his eyes. "So it's not my position you hold against me," he says quietly. "But instead what I have done for my family."

"I've seen you die twice now," I fight not to raise my voice. "And you've courted death countless more times. You expect me to be pleased with you?"

"I expect you to understand." When he has been foolish and reckless with his life?

"Well, I don't," I laugh belligerently. "It's not enough to die for the ones you love. You have to live for them too."

"Everyone has choices and a fundamental obligation to decide," he replies, a political answer if I've ever heard one. "And as High Lord, I can only decide what I think is best in the moment because they are my choices to make, even if you don't agree."

"That is quite evident to me, you can be assured."

His ears perk up. "You think Feyre and I have been preemptive with the Valkyrie."

"I think they've been through a lot. All three of them," I reply. "And when they agreed, I don't think they knew exactly what they were getting into."

"I didn't mislead them."