Daylight

Chapter 13

Once Lucien remembered how to breathe normally, he wandered to the library. The only other time he'd been to this House was when he'd first come to the Night Court with Feyre. He'd been so preoccupied with seeing Elain that he hadn't fully appreciated the grandeur of the House itself, including its remarkable library.

Before leaving the townhouse, Rhys had informed everyone that if the storm continued into the night, family dinner might turn into an overnight event. Dinner wasn't for hours but Rhys had wanted to get everyone up to the House before the storm got worse.

Lucien had asked why go up to the House at all if the weather was that bad. It would be cramped but they could have all gathered for dinner at the townhouse—they did it practically every other night of the week already. Rhys had turned grim and said, "Because of Feyre's little arrangement, whoever draws the short straw has to go talk to Bryaxis after dinner."

Lucien had paled at that. That thing was not of this world. He'd seen it briefly during the battle with Hybern and had hoped never to see it again.

Lucien had expected the library to be empty. Cassian, Feyre, Azriel, and Rhys had gone off to train, even though it was pouring. Nothing dulled their spirits it seemed—not even a storm that was bordering monsoon-level rains. Nesta and Amren were... somewhere. Those two were a lethal combination. Lucien shuddered at the thought of those two unleashing their fury on the world. And the Morrigan had asked Elain something about her garden, so he assumed they had gone off to see it.

But when he pushed open the mahogany door, he found that the library was not empty.

Lucien remembered all too well the condition he'd found her in the first—and only—time he'd entered this library. She had been little more than skin and bones, wasting away with no light in her eyes. She had been a shell, void of any emotions at all. That memory, that image of her, would haunt him forever.

What a stark difference was before him now. Elain was curled up in a comfortable-looking armchair, her feet tucked beneath her with a book open in her lap. Her face was no longer gaunt and hollow. It was full of joy and life.

She looked up from her book and smiled when she saw him. Mother save him... He wondered if she knew what that smile did to him. That every smile she'd ever offered him was more precious than the last.

She replaced the velvet ribbon to mark where she'd left off and closed the book.

"I didn't expect you to be in here," Lucien admitted. "I thought you were in the garden with Mor."

"I was, but then Cassian taunted her until she agreed to train with them."

Lucien nodded in understanding as he claimed the chaise lounge across from her.

"Mor is remarkable," Elain said quietly, her voice tinged with awe.

You're remarkable. Lucien thought.

From the pink blush that colored Elain's cheeks, he suspected she'd heard him. He hadn't intended her to, but the bond was still mysterious and unpredictable. Even he wasn't entirely sure how it worked since she seemed to occasionally hear things that he didn't realize he was sending. Or perhaps it was just that open channel between them, not unlike a gate that swung open from time to time due to having a broken lock. The bond hadn't been accepted yet, but neither had it been rejected. It was just... there.

"She's beautiful and regal," Elain continued. "But she's also a warrior. She's not afraid to get her hands dirty."

"Wars are ugly affairs. Wielding a blade is a good skill to have, but one you secretly hope you never have to use."