A Court of Blood and Feathers

29

Branwenn

The silence between us is thick with the tension that's been building for months, but now there's something else—an unspoken understanding, a connection neither of us can deny, even if we wanted to. I try to keep my face composed, but inside, my emotions are in turmoil. The desire I just unleashed clashes violently with the walls I've spent years building around my feelings. There's no time nor need for those now.

Siencyn remains still, frustratingly calm, giving me space, though I can sense he wants to pull me back into his arms. "You don't get to do that again," I say, trying to force my voice to sound firm, though it lacks the sharpness I intended. "Not unless I say so."

"I understand," he replies softly, his voice gentle. He tries to meet my gaze, but I refuse, focusing instead on the empty teacup in my hands, trying to ground myself in something solid. "But that implies that you wish for it again." Damn him.

The silence stretches, and I feel the atmosphere between us shift. The playful banter and teasing have been stripped away, leaving only raw, exposed emotions. The bond between us, undeniable and unyielding, hangs in the air.

"Malachi Voss," I say, steering the conversation to something more manageable, something I can control. My voice is steadier now, more in command. "We'll take him down together, but only if you can keep your hands—and your emotions—in check."

Siencyn nods, and I see in his eyes that he knows he's pushed me too far tonight. "Agreed," he says, and I believe him. For now.

I finally look at him, searching his eyes for something to hold onto, something that tells me I can trust him, despite everything. His gaze is sincere, a promise that he'll stand by me, no matter what. I want to believe it—I need to.

"Then we have a deal. We find Voss, make him pay, and after that... we'll see where things stand."

"That we will," he replies, standing as well.

I turn to leave but hesitate just before stepping out of the room, glancing back at him. For a moment, I let my guard down just a little, letting him see the vulnerability I've been hiding. "Thank you," I whisper, the words barely audible before I slip out.

As I walk down the hallway, the weight of what just happened presses down on me. This isn't over—not by a long shot. But for now, I'll take this small step forward, this fragile truce. The path ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I don't feel like I'm walking it alone.

And that thought, despite everything, brings me a small measure of comfort.

I stepped further into the ballroom, scanning the room for a familiar face in hopes of making the most of the night. I spotted Alaric, the seasoned strategist from the Winter Court, standing near a cluster of guests, engaged in what looked like a lively discussion. Deciding a conversation with him could be beneficial, I made my way over.

As I approached, Alaric's eyes widened in surprise before he offered a welcoming nod. "Branwenn," he greeted warmly, his voice carrying over the chatter. "It's good to see you outside of a war council."

I managed an easy smile. "It's a rare occasion, indeed. How have you been?"

"Busy, as always," he replied, gesturing for me to join the group. "We were just discussing the latest developments in the negotiations with the Spring Court. It seems their envoys are playing a particularly tricky game this time."

I nodded, listening intently as Alaric and the others shared their insights. No mention of my wings, or lack thereof, or my absence from the War Room. The conversation flowed easily, with everyone exchanging information and ideas. Though this wasn't my usual environment, I found myself settling into the discussion. My tactical mind appreciated the strategic elements, and I contributed where I could, offering my perspective on the situation.