A Court of Dusk and Shadows

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: STAR-CROSSED

Gray morning light greeted Ileana – a perfect match for her somber mood.

It had been another restless night full of tossing and turning and tears. But as she walked into the dining hall, a sense of peace washed over her. Nesta, ever practical, was spooning some porridge. Meanwhile, Cassian was eagerly scarfing down a pile of pancakes. The Illyrian warrior always had them for breakfast now, ever since Ileana had first introduced it to them.

"Goofmwormim," Cassian mumbled through a mouthful.

The greeting was enough to put a smile on Ileana's face. Nesta, on the other hand, remained quiet. The only greeting Ileana got from her was her unwavering gaze. She inclined her head at the Valkyrie before approaching the stove. The House could provide whatever she requested, but she needed to be doing something with her hands.

So, she got to work on making herself some tea. The thought of food made her stomach roil. All she could think about was the tray Azriel had carried into the library the previous night. Pathetic food offering, he had called it. It wasn't pathetic. Not to Ileana. But it was the thought behind the gesture. The idea that he only brought it to her as some sort of atonement—

Well, what did you expect? That he brought it for you because he cared about you?

That nasty, venomous voice that sounded a lot like her father said into her head.

Ileana sighed, taking her steaming mug of tea, and settling at the table. She sat across from Nesta, that silver gaze still on her. Cassian looked between the two of them, his chewing coming to a slow.

"You disappeared yesterday," Nesta finally said, breaking the silence.

Ileana had almost forgotten about that, and a slice of guilt settled in her empty stomach. Huh. Guilt. That seems to be going around.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her voice genuine. "In truth, I didn't plan on vanishing on you. Az—I, well, we went to see Helion. He managed to take care of my wound."

"Helion?" Cassian repeated. "Damn, I didn't know it was that serious, Illy. Are you okay?"

Ileana rolled her eyes at the nickname, but her smile grew wider as she turned to the General once more. Why couldn't everyone be as easygoing as Cassian? "Yes, Cass, I'm fine. It turns out Helion is quite good at what he does."

Cassian grinned back at her, nodding his head. "He isn't called the Spell-Cleaver for nothing."

"Where's Azriel now?" Nesta asked again.

"I don't know," Ileana answered, offering a nonchalant shrug, even though her shadows seemed to want to know the answer as well. "I'm not his keeper."

Cassian pursed his lips at the slight drop in Ileana's tone. Nesta seemed to notice it, too, arching an eyebrow. Finally, a hint of amusement flickered on her face. "I didn't say you were. I just thought you might have an idea. Last I saw of him, he was scrambling to bring you some food," she revealed.

Scrambling? Azriel? Ileana wanted to scoff at the thought. She settled for silence instead. Damn it. That's Azriel's strategy. With a sigh, she found herself saying, "Well, I don't know what to tell you. I haven't seen him." And I'm not sure if I want to.

Hours after that disastrous fight in the library, Ileana thought she may have overreacted. No, she knew she had overreacted. It was her fault. She shouldn't have been so affected. She shouldn't have thought that Azriel's gestures meant anything else beyond perhaps a sense of duty.

But was she sorry about the things she had said? No. He needed to hear it. The only thing she marginally regretted was when she had admitted her need for a friend. It was a vulnerability that the Shadowsinger didn't deserve to know.