A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 24: Training Aches

Chapter 24: Training Aches

It was colder on the mountaintops than it was in her bed. It should have been obvious, but she hadn't calculated just how much so and shivered relentlessly until her warmup with Cassian began to burn her muscles enough that she could feel nothing else. Rhysand and Mor appeared over an hour into her session with Cassian, but in the midst of holding a plank and trying to ignore the searing in her abdomen, Galadriel paid little attention to them.

Only when Cassian let her break from the exercise for water did she glance across to the large ring. Rhysand and his cousin fought laxly, a mere brawl that was taunted with jeering comments and unfair shots at the other's body. Wiping a towel down her face to wick away the sweat, Galadriel watched them for a while. Mor moved with the grace of a mountain lion, lean with muscle, a silky sort of beauty.

"More?" Galadriel cried when Cassian dragged her back to their own ring. "Gods," she sobbed, forcing her clenched hands in front of her chest as he had shown her, praying that her pout and batted lashes were alluring enough that he would give in to her.

To no luck.

When Cassian had flown her up that morning, there had been a surprising smoothness to the flight. She had imagined it would be rough, given his bulkier size compared to the High Lord, but every twitch of his wing was fed with purpose, even as he carried on a conversation with her. Never once did a breeze catch him off guard. He had flown more than Rhysand had, she concluded. Though Rhysand's wings were natural to him, being part Illyrian, he didn't wear them every day. He could winnow across the Court with nothing more than a few dregs of his power. He didn't have to assess every step with them in consideration, but Cassian had, and it showed.

By the time he was done with her, she was a limping—likely slobbering—mess. Slumping down in a chair, she flooded her glass with cool water, small rivers spilling over her hand which shook as she lifted it to her lips. "I thought you said Azriel usually joins you," she said when Cassian sat down across from her, stretching out his legs. Galadriel had waited for the spymaster to reveal himself, wondering if she even wanted him to see her pathetic punches, the way her body gave in while Cassian barely broke a sweat.

"He's not in the city at the moment," Cassian replied, hazel eyes directed to the horizon. He didn't tell her anything else and she wondered if that was because he couldn't, or if he just didn't think to explain. With Cassian, it could be either.

He migrated on, and she caught sight of him talking with Mor a little out of earshot. Realising that Mor and Rhysand had ended their spar, Galadriel sat straighter and scanned the rooftop.

She nearly leapt from her seat when he appeared at her side, opposite from where Cassian had been. Though he wasn't looking at her, he was smirking, noticing her jump. His brow glistened with the barest hints of sweat which gleamed under the early morning sun. His raven hair sat askew but he made no movement to fix it as someone conscious about it would.

"You had good form," he said, those violet eyes flickering to the corner of their sockets to peer over her, down along the line of her body before reaching her face again.

Shifting, she looked away, unable to bear what that gaze did to her. He had been watching her again. "Azriel taught me a few things. Cassian's also a good teacher."

"He is." There was a careful edge to his tone. Like he wasn't sure what to say, only that he wanted to speak. As if she was the one to unnerve him. The thought made her chuckle. "What are you laughing about?"

"What? Not prying around in my mind?" she goaded.

He flicked something off his leathers. "It feels like cheating with friends," he said nonchalantly, as though it weren't some big declaration he was making. As if what they were, however tangled and messy, should clearly be labelled friendship. "I prefer doing so only when I have to. And as easy as you are to read, my dear Galadriel, it is different from knowing exactly what you are thinking."