A Court of Flame and Shadow (Azriel x eris)

Chapter 13: Eris

Awkward was a mild word to describe dinner. Mind numbingly boring and unbelievably uncomfortable was a much better way to describe it. Eris had been looking down the line of his brothers, meeting their eyes one by one, warning them not to leap up and stab anyone for over an hour, and he had barely taken a bite of his chicken.

His lack of appetite was more so accredited to the crippling fear that was consuming him. Azriel had not appeared when the Night Court conglomerate had arrived mid morning. Surely it wouldn't be that odd if he inquired into Azriels whereabouts. It could even be construed as a stab at conversation. 

"Where is the Shadowsinger?" Eris struggled to use the formal rudeness that he usually used when it came to Azriel. Calling the male he would address as 'my love' in a private setting by his last name just felt wrong.

"He couldn't make it." Rhys met his eyes, a sharp look on his face. Eris needed to know more.

"Can I ask why?" His hand began to twitch, as it did when he was nervous.

"He is unwell." Rhys told him through clenched teeth. A subtle shake of his head told him everything he needed to know.

Rhysand knew. 

~

Rhysand was walking down the hall with his general, Cassian. As they approached, Eris moved closer to the doorway of the broom closet he hid in, readying to snatch Rhys out of the hall.

"You can't place a bet on what he'll say, Cass, its downright insensitive, and if Beron found out he would kill you."

As Cassian launched into his reason why that was not true, they passed the closet. Throwing a hand out to grab his sleeve, he pulled Rhys back and flung him into a closet. 

"What the hel-" Eris cut him off by throwing a hand over his mouth. Cassian passed ten meters before he noticed his High Lords absence. The fact that he simply shrugged it off was a worry, but one that could be addressed later. 

He peeled his hand of Rhysands face.

"What the hell was that!" Rhys practically screamed at him.

"Shh! Rhys, I swear to god, I do not care who you are, Beron will kill me if he finds out I am talking to you and if that happens I will kill you."

"Logistically, I don't think that would work."

"I don't know what that means. Rhys, did you break into Azriels mind?" Eris's face turned from angry to worried faster than you could say paranoid. 

"No! I would never do that. He told me himself."

"Did you make him tell you?"

"No!"

"Why are you being so nice?"

"I'm not, why are you?"

Completely taken aback, Eris frowned.

"I wasn't being nice on purpose, usually I'm automatically mean to you people. But you are being nice. Why?"

Rhys sighed, sitting down on an upturned bucket. 

"Because whether I like it or not, and trust me, I do not, you are my brothers mate, and he clearly loves you very much."

"Oh."

Eris sat down on a crate of sponges opposite him. It almost seemed like there was an unspoken understanding between him.

"Why didn't he come? Is he really sick, or did he not want to see me?"

"No! No, he didn't come because I didn't let him. I know it isn't my place, but I felt like I had to intervene, for Mor."

"I said that he could come, and spend a night with you whenever we came here. I just didn't realize that would be so soon. I hadn't had a chance to think about it enough. I know that you and Mor organized to break off the engagement, and you came off at the butt end of that deal, Az told me that much, but I couldn't stand the thought that whatever you had to do made her really hate you. I worried that she would walk in on you two, doing... something."

Eris swallowed deeply. Another fact of it all. Mor didn't hate him, but she didn't know about them. And what would it do to her to find her bestfriend with him?

"Thank you for talking with me."

Rhys smiled. "Guess we will have to prioritize killing that father of yours."