The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 12

Gwyn wiped a hand over her brow, the sweat trickling from her hairline and the burn in her arms igniting the warmth of satisfaction in her chest. Though the seasons were changing, the ring was still warm enough to bake her and her fellow trainees under the midday sun. Blades and shields clanged as the females returned their weaponry to the racks, chatter rising around her as their session came to an end. She stole a glance at Azriel across the way, cheeks heating to find his eyes were already on her. Flashing a timid smile she quickly turned away, finding Nesta and Emerie at the water table. She made her way to them, grin widening.

"I'd be in a good mood, too, if my Illyrian warrior couldn't stop staring at me all morning," Nesta mused, eyebrows raised. The priestess rolled her eyes.

"Well, then you must be in a good mood every day, considering Cassian has barely been able to focus on anyone but you for the last year," Gwyn retorted, sticking out her tongue.

"The way I hear it, he hasn't been able to focus on anyone else since long before that," chimed Emerie. The eldest Archeron sister scowled.

"Hey, this conversation is not about me, okay? We're teasing Gwyn." Nesta turned her attention back to the redhead, but then those gray eyes flicked up, gazing past Gwyn's shoulder. She turned, Azriel's hazel gaze piercing her again. Nesta and Emerie excused themselves, but the priestess barely heard. The intensity of his attention consumed her, drowned out anything outside the two of them.

"Shadowsinger." She smiled, taking determined steps toward him. He lifted a hand in invitation and she readily took it, even as she continued forward to press herself against his chest. The mist of his shadows skated across the back of her neck, and the feeling of his strong hand at the base of her spine was a warm cloak of protection and tenderness. Gwyn knew that she wanted to explore intimacy with him, as they grew together, but even at this early point in their relationship the touches and embraces were tantalizing.

So was the feather-light touch of his lips to her crown – a recent development that made her insides squeeze every single time. "Priestess," he murmured softly into her hair, the warmth of his breath skating down the strands. "I want you to know how proud of you I am."

Gwyn pulled back, eyes narrowed as she lifted her gaze, head tilting with curiosity.

"One year ago, today, you walked through that archway and saw me waiting here with Cassian. While you were clearly troubled, you did not falter. And you have not once faltered in the year since."

Tears filled her eyes, far too quickly for her to stop them from falling down her sun-stained cheeks. Gwyn had known that today was a monumental day – a year since she had started training with Azriel. A year since the shadowsinger had been reintroduced into her life. But she had not expected anyone else to know, to realize how that day may have very well changed the course of her future. And yet here he was, standing before her, acknowledging that very thing.

"Azriel." Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. His hand lifted, callused fingers grazing over her cheek and catching the droplets that fell from her eyes.

"I consider that to be the first day we met. Truly. And you have done nothing but astonish me ever since." The spymaster leaned down, lips nearly brushing the shell of her ear. "I must go attend to some things, but there is something waiting for you in your room. I'll see you this evening, lovely priestess." He squeezed her hand with a wink and backed away, leaving her frozen and astounded as he turned and strode into the House.

Gwyn blinked. And again.

She couldn't recall having made plans with him that evening. In fact, she was quite sure she was working in the library. It wasn't unthinkable that she might have gotten confused, or forgotten...