Fabric of a Spy
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- Votes 4
- Parts 3
I couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity as I glanced at the tall, mysterious figure standing next to me in the gallery. Was it really Azriel the Spymaster of the Night Court, rumoured to be one of the deadliest and captivating Illyrian in existence?
Little did I know, this encounter with him in the art gallery would change my life forever...
Please forgive me for any grammatical mistakes, English is not my first language 🎀
I still hope you have fun reading it.
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#14
velaris
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"You think I give a shit about everyone else in Prythian if it's your life on the line?" Azriel snapped. Eclipse's eyes watered and she looked away in frustration. Azriel reached forward and grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him. Eclipse's breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his stare. "If it's you or Prythian, I will light the fucking fires myself and burn it all to the ground." "Az-" she breathed softly staring into his hazel eyes. "No. I waited 500 years for this, for you, and if you think that I will ever be okay with spending one Cauldron damned second of this life without you from this point forward, then you are sorely mistaken." He stared deeply into her eyes. "If you.. Mother.... If you die Eclipse there's no fucking point to anything. Mate or not you are the light of my life. Nothing makes sense without you, it's all just blood and shadow without you and I can't, I won't go back to that. So if you go, then I'm following right behind." What if, hear me out, but what if Rhysand's sister hadn't been the youngest of his blood relations. What if, before her death she had been married off to the heir to the Day Court? What if they had a daughter? Born somewhere in between the day and night, a bridge between the courts. Powers from both. An affinity to control the light and dark, an intuition so keen she had never been wrong a day in her life, an affinity for magic and spells so strong she could rival her father, known by many names. The Warrior Princess, the Candle in the Dark, Daydreamer, Eclipse; Spell Weaver.
Two hundred years ago Rhysand lost his mother and sister in a grueling murder. But what if that sister had survived? What if the head in that box was just a tree-stump, transformed to look exactly like her? What if she had instead been sold for her knowledge on the mysterious Night Court? And what if that sister would now, just a few years after the war, find her way back, but with agendas of her own? ****************************************************************************** "Alright, oh wise one, my need for wisdom has run out now, so you can be on your way now" I waved my hand. "That's cold" Rhys put a hand over his heart, " I thought we were having a big-bro-little-sis talk here." I rolled my eyes, but he slid an arm around my shoulder: "We both already know what you'll do anyway." "Oh, we do, is that right?" He nodded: "You always been so predictable, if you would write murder-mysteries everyone would know from the beginning who killed the victim." "That's weirdly specific, how long have you been sitting on that one?" I snorted. "Since you insulted my taste in art" he sniffed theatrically. I laughed: "You are one petty High Lord." "I don't even know what to say to that insolence" he shook his head.
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