Mastermind | | Azriel

3

After lengthy, and horribly boring, negations about a trade agreement between the Day Court and the Night Court with the Day Court's High Lord and Helion, the latter of the two decided to show them what the Day Court had to offer in terms of fun.

Cassian was eager, Rhys was curious, and Azriel was unwilling to pass up a chance on the assassin finally taking a shot at him.

He pretended to drink more than he really was, pretended to lose a little bit of his sense to it, and then he separated himself from the group—claiming he just needed some fresh air. He presented the perfect opportunity for the assassin to strike.

His attention was focused on everything around him despite the way he appeared slightly drunk. He waited and waited for the assassin to creep out of some dark corner and pounce.

Waited and waited and—

"Stop," a voice shrieked desperately—a terrified voice. "Stop it! Get off of me!"

Azriel was moving before he even registered what he was doing, all pretending gone in the blink of an eye. There was a female thrashing wildly as one male tried to hold her in place while another tried ripping her dress. Her eyes met Azriel and she sobbed out a desperately for help. The males looked towards Azriel, grinning wide and drunk and inviting him to join.

They were dead before they could even scream. The female was covered in their blood, breathing erratically and crying. Azriel peeled off his coat and offered it to her, careful not to get too close. She took it shakily, mumbling broken thank you's.

"I didn't—I can't—" the female stammered, shaking in his coat and her torn dress. "I was trying to—oh, gods..."

"Would you like some water?" Azriel offered softly, his voice notably less menacing than it usually was.

"Please," she croaked, nodding as she wiped her tears, smearing the blood on her face.

"Do you want to wait here or come with me?" he asked, holding a hand out to her.

"I don't—I...you didn't...you're Illyrian. From the Night Court. But you're here," she stumbled over her words, clearly unable to find the question she meant to ask.

"I'm here on business with the High Lord of the Night Court," he explained, hand falling back to his side once more, "your High Lord's advisor offered to show us the city after our meeting."

"Then you're..." she trailed off, eyes widening in a new wave of terror as her fingers gripped his coat and she wrapped it more tightly around herself. The fact that he helped her and it was his own coat she was clutching for protection seemed to become a distant memory. Because she knew who he was now. Enough rumors had spread about what he did in the war. He was not a good male. That fact was known throughout Prythian. He was vicious and merciless and he'd be stained from head to toe in the blood of enemies and innocents alike. He served his High Lord. Rhys's father. He followed every command without fail. And this was the consequence.

"I am," he confirmed what she wouldn't or couldn't say. "And I did," he added on, as if he knew her next attempt at a sentence would be an accusation of all the crimes he was guilty of.

"But you helped me. Why—why would you help me?" she murmured, and Azriel let out a long breath.

"I don't take joy in harm to innocents," he told her, sparing a glance towards the corpses he had left behind. "Those males deserved what they got." Again, he held his hand out. "Would you like to come with me, or would you prefer I ask your High Lord's advisor to help you home safely?"

Hand bloody and trembling, she reached out and grasped his scarred one. It hit him then that he had offered his hand to her twice. He hadn't thought about the scars like he normally would have. He tucked away the uncomfortable realization to never be thought of again.

She clung to him the whole way into the tavern, kept her eyes on him as the place descended into silence and all stares were on them. She did not even spare a glance at Helion, nor did she seem to listen when Azriel explained what had happened.

Helion offered to escort her home while someone else got the bodies and blood out of the street, but she pleaded with Azriel to be the one to take her. It didn't take much convincing.

He let her lead him to her apartment, her shaking, bloody hand gripping his the whole way. She was still shaking too hard to get the key in the door, so he unlocked it for her, and she tugged him gently in after her.

"I don't want to be alone," she murmured, eyes wide and watery, "I'm scared."

"I'll stay," he assured her with a nod, eyes scanning what he could see of the apartment. The decor was all pale pinks and flowers and occasional pops of bright white, but it didn't look lived in. It looked new, all of it.

As if she could read his mind, she spoke, "I just...I only moved here this week. I came from the Autumn Court. I thought things would be better here. I'd heard so many good things."

Azriel wanted to offer to take her back to Velaris with him. She's be safe there, with no reason to ever be afraid again. Would Rhys allow it? An outside in Velaris...it was a risk, but only if she left. Maybe she would stay.

"I-I don't know what to do," she stammered miserably, "it was supposed to be better here. Is all of Prythian so wretched?"

"There is good still," he tried to assure her, "I promise."

Tears slid down her cheeks and her wide, green eyed stare nearly ruined him.

"You're good," she muttered, "but I think that might be all the good left."

And then he was speaking before he knew what he was doing, before he could think about the potential consequences, before he could consider whether or not Rhys would be okay allowing an outsider into Velaris.

"Come with me. Back to the Night Court. There's...we have a lovely place. A safe and beautiful place."

Hope glimmered in her eyes.

"Truly? I heard...I've heard such terrible things about the Night Court, though. I've heard it's crueler than the Autumn Court," she brought up, voice unsteady but still carrying hints of hope.

"There are parts that live up to that reputation, but I wouldn't take you there. You'll only see the good, I swear it."

After a long moment, she nodded, "I want to go. Please."