The fire blazed in the hearth, providing light to Rhys's study. However, the flames were nothing compared to the volatile temperament of the Princess, who now paced in front of his desk.
"So, you're telling me that I—a warrior who bested Cassian, held my own against Nesta, and, let's not forget, handed your precious Spymaster his ass—you think I need a glorified babysitter?"
Rhys leaned back in his chair, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Precisely. You are a formidable warrior; I won't argue that. But Prythian is vast and treacherous, filled with hidden dangers and strange creatures. You may know how to fight, but navigating your way in this unfamiliar territory..."
Ileana scoffed, her fiery temper simmering just beneath the surface. "I have my own shadows, you know. Loyal ones. I don't need another. Especially a brooding, domineering one."
Rhys sighed, his gaze softening. "The conflict brewing—it threatens all of Prythian. With your power and skills, you'll be a target. You'll be hunted, Ileana. And despite our short time together, I'd rather not lose you just yet."
Her defiance was gone, replaced by apprehension. "It doesn't...scare you? My power?"
"You wield fire and light with skill, Ileana. Your shadows, those seem less...tame," he admitted. "Maybe having Azriel around can teach you...control."
The hint of vulnerability in Rhysand's eyes slipped through Ileana's bravado. She came to a halt before him, her arms crossed. "Fine," she conceded, her voice gruff. "But I won't be coddled. If Azriel treats me like some damsel in distress, so help me, he will regret it."
The relieved smile on Rhys's face was dazzling. "Agreed. Azriel will respect your boundaries, as will I. Consider this a . . . partnership. Not a babysitting assignment."
✴️ | 🗡️ | ✴️
Muffled voices seeped through the heavy oak door, a familiar symphony of anger and fire. Rhys's steady baritone punctuated the air, each word carrying through the stone – a gift and a curse of his Illyrian blood. Another secret heard—whether he wished to or not.
Rhys had summoned him earlier, after sharing what exactly his next assignment would be. Ileana's fiery defiance was a familiar melody, yet the frustration lacing her voice pricked at him. He deserved her anger; he knew that. The memory of her light blasting through him made him shift. But being labeled a "glorified babysitter" stung. He was Azriel, Shadowsinger, High Lord's Spymaster, not some glorified... what was it again?
A wry smile tugged at his lips. Beneath his annoyance, there was curiosity. Her actions in the Hewn City, her capability for kindness and for manipulation, it drew him like a moth to a flame. The prospect of being near her, of understanding the woman beneath the mask, was strangely compelling.
As Rhys emerged from the study, a mischievous glint in his eye, Azriel schooled his features into stoic neutrality.
He knew one thing for certain: this assignment would not be dull.
✴️ | 🗡️ | ✴️
The scent of blooming wisteria hung heavy in the air as Rhys carefully set her down. The Spring Court gardens, awash with vibrant blooms, offered a different kind of beauty from Velaris.
"Well, this is a welcome change. Even if the company might not be ideal," Ileana quipped.
Rhys rolled his eyes as he walked beside her to the sprawling manor beyond. "Now, now, Ileana. Don't be so quick to judge. Tamlin has changed."
Ileana arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about Tamlin."
With a pointed stare at Azriel, silent a few paces behind, she smirked. He remained stoic, but a shadow flickered by his jawline, the only giveaway of his annoyance. Rhys looked to the skies, as if praying for divine intervention from the Mother.
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A Court of Dusk and Shadows
FanfictionIleana knows that her sister is the key to saving their world. So when she has to travel to Prythian and stay behind so that Bryce can fulfill her destiny, then she accepts her fate. Despite the scowling Shadowsinger, who has to give up his blade t...