A Court of Flame and Shadow (Azriel x eris)

Chapter 26: Azriel

The moment the clock struck five thirty a knock sounded on the door, just as promised. Azriel had just finished dressing for dinner when the knocker had arrived (as he had fallen asleep on his dresser), and was the last one out, the result of which was a hastily done-up shirt and undone shoes.

Mor had hurried over to the door, already desperate for Autumn Court wine, which they all had to admit was the best in Prythian. However, rather than little Mallie standing at the door, she was greeted by a sour-faced Eris.

"Oh, Eris. What an honour." She scowled as he pushed past her to the room.

"Morrigan." He pursed his lips, looking her up and down. "Red looks good on you."

He turned to the rest of the room as she gaped.

"Rhysand, Feyre." He nodded to everyone else, but stayed on Azriel just a little longer.

Eris hovered in the doorway as the Inner Circle made their way out, and followed Mallie down the hall, waiting until only Feyre, Rhysand, and Azriel stayed. He took a tentative few steps closer to his mate, glancing behind him to determine that no one else remained.

"Your buttons are wonky, my love." He murmured, reaching to fix them, despite being utterly aware of Rhysands fixed glare, and Feyres' adoring expression. When he finished, he looked back up. Glowing amber eyes clashed against deep hazel ones, and breath met between two mates.

"My Eris." Azriels voice creaked like a door in desperate need of oiling. His scarred hands brushed against Eris's flawless skin.

Eris gazed at him through his thick eyelashes. "We should go. Father hates me to be late."

"Yes, we should go." Azriel agreed, unable to tear his eyes away from those of his perfect mate.

"So lets!" Rhysand butted in. Azriel had utterly forgotten he was there, which didn't shock him. How could he have eyes for anyone else?

~

The few conversations the occurred over dinner were tense, to say the least. The meal was a lavish affair, taking course over 5 different sets of food, not all of which were good, but with Beron giving them all a dictator-like glare, all to be heard were sounds of enjoyment.

The moment they had the left their suite, Eris had become the stony, icy male that everyone else knew to be the heir to the court of flames.

Seating had been assigned, possibly to prevent a fight, or to encourage one. Beron sat at the head of the table (scowling at anyone who dared a glance in his direction), on his left, Eris, and on his right, Lady Autumn. Beside his wife sat Elain, and opposite her was her fiancé, who was leveling a glare at three of his brothers, that sat lined up to his right. 

Mor sat on Elain's left, and on her left sat in a line Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Cassian, Amren, and Varian. Beside Lucien's third brother, Emerie shifted uncomfortably in her seat whilst the nasty redhead leered at her. Meredith was staring absently at the table, and to her right sat Azriel, who was looking anywhere but the wine, and the High Lords oldest son. Gwyn was pale next to him.

The Lady of Autumn chose to start conversation as the first meal was being bought out, no doubt to Berons' annoyance. 

"Meredith, are you from around here?" She leaned down the table to the shaking waitress.

After being assured she may speak to the Lady by a glance from Rhysand, she replied.

"Yes, I lived nearby." Her face flushed and she averted her gaze.

"How old are you?" She jumped slightly, in unison with the rest of the table, none of whom had been expecting to hear Berons grating voice so early in the evening. 

"Twenty-three." Meredith murmured timidly, smartly looking anywhere but his face.

"Are you seeing anyone, ah...?"

"Meredith." She filled in.

"Are you seeing anyone, Meredith?"

She shook her head, flush crawling down her neck. "No, sir."

"Isn't that perfect!" Beron turned to Eris, patting his shoulder. "You could marry her! She's young, pretty, fertile!" Eris turned his head to his father, disguising his shock with a sip of wine. Meredith went pale as a ghost, looking to every face at the table in search of help. Eris's mother even looked like she may argue, but rather chose to go back to picking at her food.

"I am not looking to marry, father." Eris said quietly, turning away, but immediately met Azriels eye. The sharp look he sent his way had him turning back to his father.

"I will consider it, father, but isn't it also Meredith's decision?" 

"Why wouldn't she want to marry you?" Beron laughed, looking down at Meredith, who looked to be trying to compact herself into a ball. 

"I would be honored." She whispered.

"Good! Well you think about it, Eris, but I think I know what you will decide!" He guaffed.