A Court of Blood & Mercy || Elriel Dual POV

Chapter 20 - A Strange Visitor

Landing in a plume of blackened shadow on the edge of the Autumn Court had been a stupid idea.

Because it was dark.

And silent.

Blackened night was swallowing the entire court, save for dull stars glimmering far above the limits of his wings as the moon sailed lazily above the glittering golden roof of Elain's manor.
It was the kind of night that got under your skin and tempted you to do unthinkable wild things like stealing away a lost love and beginning the next civil war.

He felt a weak chuckle break the hard line of his lips as his heavy lids lowered, watching the dark windows of the mansion.

If she but asked.

He sighed.

Stepping out of the shadowy edges of the forest, Azriel crept forward, stealing across the crunching dry grass until he reached the glassy frame of her greenhouse.

Although he had seen her steal in and out of the building on his last visit to Autumn, Azriel had not dared enter the space for himself.

But tonight, holding the carved wooden rose from the Court of Nightmares and knowing that she was sleeping soundly somewhere above him in that towering mansion... it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Opening the creaking glass door, he stepped inside and felt a smattering of gooseflesh sweep up his forearms toward his shoulders and wings, as if he had just entered hallowed ground. The space felt separate from the earth somehow like it had been anointed by a goddess or reserved for worship and ritual. It felt like opening the door to Elain's mind and waltzing inside: seeing her innermost thoughts and creations, surrounding him and breathing the oxygen, like he had entered a living being.

And it was beautiful.

Like her.

He felt the smile stretch across his tight cheekbones as memories flourished and blossomed within his mind. Memories of the townhouse gardens... the river mansion courtyard... her roses and the scent of honey and jasmine. Even memories of his mother and Rosehall began curling up toward his temples as he scanned the space, breathing her as his shadows seemed to wane, tucking behind him, shy, as they always seemed to be, in the presence of Elain.

His eyes dropped down to the carved stem pinched between his scarred fingers.

The greenhouse felt like the correct place to leave her the rose.

But now that he was here, scanning the innermost place of her creative heart, he wondered if it was not... intrusive. Or perhaps invasive and weird?

Insecurities fought for centerstage within his soul as he felt his fingers tighten around the stem.

He hoped the rose would be a signal to her— I am here. I am watching and waiting for you whenever you need me. Don't give up.

He felt his brows furrow as uncharacteristic indecision as he began wandering the greenhouse, his eyes gathering the folds and curves of the darkened flowers, the plans and shrubs bristling as he passed, the obvious botanical artistry blending with an almost scientific precision as he gazed upon rows and highly organized lines of unique plants and flowers.

The scent of honey and jasmine was so thick in the space as it mingled with eucalyptus and sage... it felt like coming home.

His mind flashed back to the memories of the garden again— of listening to Elain chatter away about plants and her childhood and anything else she desired.

Sometimes she would ask him questions about his own childhood, and though he often felt as though he'd rather avoid the topic, part of him had yearned for the intimacy of revealing that side of himself to her: like he would be able to cling to the proof of her acceptance if he bestowed upon her the truth of who he really was.