A Song of Faithless Shadows

75. Some Cavity

Gwyneth

Tamlin is in over his head. Lucien and I both know it. Though... Lucien and I both lack the heart to tell him. "You should..." Lucien hesitates, glancing to see if Tamlin is listening. "You should bring in your... crew."

"My crew?" I echo dubiously. "You mean the night court?"

Lucien presses his lips together as Tamlin scrambles about the manner, attempting to set up for the reception. Today would be knighting day, the launch of a new legion of sentries who are entirely volunteered and paid handsomely. It was a costly thing, certainly, and Tamlin was making attempts to save money by not hiring decorators.

"I don't mean all of them," Lucien mutters, glancing warily at the unruly gardenscape. "But we need a calvary."

I snort. "You're the well-connected one. Not me," I remind him.

"Yes, but my connections might laugh in my face if I asked them here," Lucien says.

"Fair enough," I tilt my head. "I suppose I ought to see if Elain is free? She is good at this sort of thing."

He quickly straightens, looking away as I grin. "If that is what you think is best."

I snicker. "I see right through you, Lucien," I warn. "Like glass."

"I'm not hiding a thing," he crosses his arms, scoffing.

"No, but you're playing games," I point out. "You know my friends aren't so good at making things pretty. Not to mention how busy they get. Elain was really my only option. You were content to let it seem like it was my idea, yes?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he mutters blandly, and I grin, leaving to fetch Elain.

She is happier to go than I would've expected, even when I tell her Lucien is there. Especially when I tell her Lucien is there. It's funny. She won't even look at him. It reminds me of how Azriel used to refuse to look at me.

Of course, Elain and Lucien are mates while Azriel and I...

I feel a pang of emptiness in my gut. It isn't so much like starvation as it is like missing a vital organ. I can feel the internal bleeding, every pump of blood in some cavity inside of me, some void where I'm certain something is supposed to be.

My body aches as I dwell on it, chatting idly with Elain about the florals in attempts to distract myself.

I can't shake the feeling as I help set up the dance floor, it working and kneading through me. Like dough before the yeast has settled, something alive yet empty, mindless and all consuming. I feel sick as Elain and I dress for the party. "You look unwell," she says gently to me. "Is it all the people?"

Tonight would be nothing short of an event. Starting with the knighting of a new legion, followed by a masquerade reception. Tamlin promised he wouldn't formally recognize me as his daughter until I was ready, that it would be alright if I was never ready too.

"I don't think so," I answer, running my aching hands over the green chiffon of my dress. I fasten my mask to my face, floral and asymmetrical. In truth, I had no idea what had me feeling so unwell. "Can you still tell?"

Elain frowns beneath her petal pink mask. "I don't think that's the point," she says.

"Probably just tired," I assure her. "You look beautiful."

"And you look unforgettable," she tells me. "Thank you for bringing me. I never... I never leave the river house anymore. I never even want to, really. That is until I leave, and I think to myself how depressing the same four walls can be."