𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 71

Chapter 71

Feyre and Rhysand were spending the day at the House of Wind, hosting audience to members of the city. He had invited Arwen to attend as she always once did, but the idea of holding a smile for so long—even if it was real at seeing the people of her city—seemed an exhausting act.

So instead, Arwen took the opportunity to spend the day shopping for Winter Solstice. And her companion for the day turned out to be Azriel. While it had been in part because she didn't want to spend the day alone, the offer came far more with the reason that when she mentioned buying gifts, Arwen saw the mild panic in his eyes and the guilt ate at her.

Now prepared for the ghastly temperatures, her face was rimmed by a thick fur hood, her arms were weighted under two jackets, and she had pulled on leggings underneath her pants. Azriel smiled under a ducked head when she came downstairs, donning only a simple sweater himself.

She had barely slept the past two nights, constantly state in of anxiety that kept her tossing and turning no matter how many herbal teas Rhys had her down to relax. She had spent hours into last night with Feyre talking about art—much to Rhysand's annoyance who seemed to yearn for his mate's company in the bedroom. Arwen let herself believe that he just innocently wanted a body to fall asleep next to.

With the crooks of her elbows turning red at the straps of bags cutting into her skin, Arwen called for a break. Azriel only had a single package that was easily tucked into the pocket of his pants. He did offer to take her bags, but she waved him away. It was part of the fun, she told him. They found a seat inside Sven's restaurant, giving up their favoured outdoor table for the indoor heat of an oil fire that burned on one of the poles, a glass cover keeping the flames from licking out.

"Stop looking at it," Azriel scolded her.

"He won't know if I eat them," she drawled. "Just a few. I bought him so many!"

The shadowsinger scoffed at her with laughter soon following. They had spent an hour in Tickling Tongues, a sweets store that had just opened in the week past. Arwen had brought a jar of almost everything for Rhysand. The one she held in her lap now became a new favourite after sampling, which had her debating whether she could hand it to her brother willingly. The store had almost sold out of everything by the time they got there, and she didn't know if she could survive until they managed to restock.

Azriel reached across the small, round table and plucked it from her hands before she could even whine. Arwen's jaw dropped by an inch at the audacity but Sven arrived with their meals at that moment and sheforgot about the sweets, smiling at her pasta. Until she picked up her fork.

"Something wrong with it? Can't eat?"

Arwen forced the pit in her throat down with a hard swallow and shook her head at Azriel. "I'll try."

Twisting the prongs of her fork into the dish, she focused on a past memory of how it would taste. How delicious the sauce would be once it lathered her tongue and how full it would make her before she even reached halfway. Pushing a small bite past her lips, she prayed for the same taste. But it turned to ash on her tongue and her throat tightened in warning.

The fork clanged against the side of the dish as Arwen slumped into her chair, frustration curdling in her chest where tiredness already prowled. She wanted the food. She wanted to eat. But her body refused it.

Azriel leant over the table again, adjusting her fork so it didn't risk sliding off the plate and clattering against the floor. Not that she cared. "You ate this morning," he reminded her. "Do you want mine instead?"

She only had to glimpse at his chicken salad to know. "No," she croaked.

Azriel picked at his meal as she stewed in her own irritation, though she could tell that he felt bad for the fact. When Sven returned to check on their meals, worry blossomed on her face at the sight of Arwen's untouched plate. Azriel simply asked if there was anything they could take the food home in. She could try again at dinner.