A Court of Serpents and Saints

Chapter 2: Azriel

Azriel stood with pratcticed stillness.

While leaning on the dining table in the Ho0use of Wind his posture was utterly typical, the casual stance of a silent observer. Outwardly he made every effort to project a cool uninterested countenance... but his damn shadows gave him away. Those black coils of dark always showed any form of unease, they unfurled around him swallowing any ounce of light and smothering it.

It had been three nights since Azriel had learned that Princess Asryana might still be alive. Azriel had hardly eaten, he hadn't slept, he could hardly think straight. At first his thoughts had been simple, hot and pointed rage... but as the days progressed he found himself easing towards a confusing feeling of aggravation mixed with yearning.

Nevetheless, Azriel knew that deep within him a small part of him would allow that anger to fester. He was angry with Rhysand for keeping this secret from him. Rhysand always had his secrets and after serving Rhys for 500 years Azriel knew better than to expect an apology from his High Lord. Yet, his animosity persisted.

Cassian, as usual, was doing a much worse job hiding his emotions. His brother, who was always so confident and self assured, who always moved with purpose, now paced aimlessly back and forth across the floor. It was as if the lower half of his body was stuck in battle, moving through various fighting stances. The Illyrian was clearly going mad with the expected patience.

"Cassian," Nesta clipped, her tone sharp, "Sit down."

"How can I sit fucking down when I know they're probably walking into that damn manor to confront him right now," Cassian didn't bother to keep his voice down, letting his own fury flood audibly through the room, reverbing off the rafters on the ceiling.

"Your obnoxious pacing isn't going to change their minds," Nesta folded her arms across her chest. Opposite of her mate Nesta's irritation was cold, dismissive, and quiet. She had none of that fiery rage Cassian had within him, but her icy displeasure was far more terrifying.

Nearly unconsciously Azriel found himself obeying Nesta. As the eldest Archeron sister spoke he shifted himself into a seat, demonstrating for Cassian. As he sat he let his eyes rest on Nesta, looking for any mark of approval. Nesta only offered him a cold blank stare, which he accepted as a sign of thanks.

Elain finally spoke, for the first time since entering the room, her sweet voice a balm to the tension. She offered a pointed, begging look at Cassian,"Rhysand promised to bring her back to this very room once they were done. Let's all just try to sit and enjoy the tea Nesta had the House bring to us."

Cassian sat, but he did not drink any tea. Instead, he slumped in his seat and began to arrange his long dark hair so it sat in a messy knot on the back of his head. As he did so the muscles on his arms buldged, flexing with the movement. Azriel snickered to himself as he watched the hunger light in Nesta's eyes. The mundane of this whole act brought Azriel a bit of comfort. At least this moment, in the center of the turmoil, was a bit normal.

Cassian, however, either didn't notice his mate's oggling or didn't care. Instead he continued griping, "Rhysand and Mor shouldn't be going in there alone, especially with Tamlin in the state he is right now."

"They brought Miryam, Drakon, and Lucien. So they're hardly alone," Elain noted. Azriel couldn't help but cringe at the way Elain's mouth curled around her mate's name. Despite everything, Azriel still couldn't dismiss the pursuit for the middle Archeron sister that burned deep within him. He studied Elaine as she continued, watching her lips as they moved, "Besides, Feyre and Amren didn't go. I'm sure it wasn't personal."

"Amren has no power. Feyre didn't want to go back there, and I don't blame her. That has nothing to do with them. Everything with Rhysand is calculated. This is just like when they didn't tell them the Princess was alive," Nesta snapped.