𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Arwen wished she had the mind to have bought lunch before she travelled such a far walk away from the restaurants and cafes. Instead, she leant against the marble column with a complaining stomach, watching the Sidra's tide lap against the stony edge a few feet away. It was high tide, drizzles of white wash reaching over the top of the river's edge.

She had stayed in one of the city's few inns that hosted merchants and their sailing crews the past night after hearing Mor around the town house. It wouldn't have been easy to sneak past the blood-hound female, who would have loaded her with questions on what had come to pass in Hewn City. Explaining all that would have dumped Mor with Arwen's own problems and as she recently learnt, that was something Mor already dealt with every day.

Arwen curled her knees to her chest, staring at the water with a frown.

She tried not to focus on her disastrous mating issue with Azriel every day, but perhaps her shield against it wasn't as reinforced as she led herself to believe.

Then there is the fiasco of becoming a celestian. Something Arwen still wasn't sure she understood but the ring on her finger kept it under control to the point where she didn't need to think about it until her training with Amren. But it had caused enough stress that Rhysand took her to the cabin for a week to give both of them a break as well as giving Cassian a break from them... From her. It had been to give Cassian a break from her.

And it had been ten years, yet she still could not find the strength to accept her body without wings. Mirrors were still daunting, shopping for dresses became too overwhelming that she could only do so once a year. Had her burdens become theirs as well?

Arwen stayed there, her thoughts moving from hunger to boredom, wishing she had her sketchpad around. Or even something to sew with. Her mother used to fill in her time making the most divine designs, some for Arwen or herself, others that were gifted to Rhys for his own future use as he pleased.

At a small, dark blip in the corner of her eye, she looked to the sky and squinted. Cassian, if she could guess by the outline of the flying Illyrian high over the city. He didn't seem to be heading to the House of Wind, but it was also the wrong direction to the town house. Perhaps Rhys had him surveying something. Arwen wouldn't know anything, having put that block in her mind before she even left her brother's chambers. She might thank him later for the extensive training.

When the day grew old and night was being born, she finally rose from her spot against the marble column. The tide had retreated, only traces of moistness on the rocky edge. Her back ached from the position—something she hadn't noticed until then. She had been too busy watching Cassian soar for over two hours across the city. He would dive down into the streets and reappear someplace else. It was mind-numbing; something to take her interest but need not a droplet of thought. Which was exactly what she needed.

But now she had her thoughts aligned and soothed enough that she didn't contend with the idea of returning home. Though there was no rush in the endeavour, so Arwen meandered through the quiet streets rather than winnowing.

The town house was quiet upon her return, but not empty. Amren sat in the sitting room, playing with a bejewelled chain between her fingers. Arwen smiled. "Amren. Didn't expect to see you here."

Amren merely glanced in her direction before focusing once more on the necklace. "Yes, well, I was rather bored sitting in my apartment all alone."

Arwen pursed her lips, examining the town house. This didn't seem much different from sitting in the smaller apartment, but she knew that understanding Amren would not be an achievement she gained her in her lifetime. "Alright. I'm going to make some dinner."