𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Rhysand chuckled behind the mug of his tea at the sight before him. Arwen was perched on the main lounge, knees brought right to her chest as she sat next to a fervent Cassian. Amren and Mor had stolen the loveseat, their conversation unwelcoming to the rest of them, which left him and Azriel to each take the remaining armchairs.

His general had lost that morning's snowbattle, though lost was quite a generous term on his part. Annihilated seemed more fitting. Rhysand hadn't won either—a fact he was still bitter about—but kept that annoyance to himself. Cassian, however, had been spending the past half hour avidly detailing to Arwen why he should have been the one to come out victorious. To her credit, she seemed quite enthralled by what he had to say and Rhysand could almost believe that Cassian was getting to her. But a quick brush of her mind proved the opposite.

When her eyes did drift away from the warrior, it was only because Azriel silently rose from his seat and left the room. He returned a minute later with a filled wine glass. Passing by the back of the lounge, Azriel continued his silence as he handed it down to her. Arwen bit her lip as she smiled and murmured a thank you, letting one leg fall to make room to hold it to her chest. Cassian didn't falter in his blabbering.

"It's quite early for wine," Rhysand noted as his spymaster returned to the adjacent armchair.

"It's too early to listen to Cassian gripe for so long without one," he drawled back, the remark quipping Rhysand with a smirk and Azriel pressed his lips into a low smile. Azriel remained watching the exchange with an eased expression that Rhysand had never seen on his face before recently.

He was going to mention so until Mor's voice cut through the room. "Are we going to give out the presents yet? The curiosity is starting to hurt."

Arwen's sharp intake could be heard by them all. Her eyes sliced across the room to Rhysand, wide and round. It threw him back through his memories of the same look that came on every Winter Solstice, right down to the first years as a babe when she finally started to understand what presents meant for her. Rhysand gave a small nod in confirmation, though he hardly deemed it necessary. But Arwen took the confirmation with a squeal and abandoned her position on the lounge, trotting towards the pile of presents stacked on the table behind them. Rhysand smiled.

"I wasn't finished!" Cassian bellowed, turning onto his knees and gripping the back of the lounge to beckon her back.

Arwen stopped in her endeavour and strode up to the back of a lounge with a pout of sympathy. She wound her arms around the general's neck and squeezed. Rhysand's brow lifted at the exchange until she said leant back and said, "Cass, you lost and you lost hard. There is no saving this great humiliation." She held his face between her hands, pecked the tip of his nose and then darted back to the pile of presents, leaving Cassian agape. Azriel snorted behind his hand and Rhysand barely smothered his own smile when Cassian looked towards them.

Arwen returned with her arms full, the presents wrapped with varying degrees of precision. She handed the first to Cassian who took it with only a mumble of thanks. Rhysand placed his mug to the side and leant forward as his came, seeing the label that marked it from Amren. She always had interesting gifts to give.

"I knew you'd like those."

Rhysand looked up to his sister, then across the room to where she was watching Amren. Amren held up her hand and decorating each finger were talons of bejewelled gold that sat like rings on each knuckle. The female's wide grin was unnerving as she looked at her hand like she had just found her heart's desire.

"Watch your throats," Mor muttered as she tore apart her gift's wrappings. Amren only flicked her a smirk and settled into the lounge, admiring them still.