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40. Welcome Home, M'Lord

Azriel winnowed three times in a row, and on the third, you immediately knew you were in the Day Court. The terrain reminded you of Southern Italy and the North Coast of Africa.

"It's so . . . warm and dry." You closed your eyes and basked in the sun. "Should we stop by Helion's?"

Azriel chuffed at your nonchalant question. "No, not right now."

You blinked your eyes open and then stared at his profile. "What? Why not?"

"One thing at a time, m'lord," he said in jest. "I want to get you home first. And besides, if you accept Tarquin's invitation, you'll see Helion in eleven days."

You stroked the leather diary in your arms. "Before we left, you said it was interesting."

"Your invitation?"

"Mmhmm."

"I did."

"And . . ?" You narrowed your eyes, curious. "What did you mean by that?"

"I was just surprised," Azriel said with a shrug. "But then I remembered you don't know anything about the Seasonal Courts."

"No, I don't."

"Hm . . . Let's see." Azriel adjusted his grip on you as he soared over colorful, mouthwatering orchards. "Seasonal Courts use magic to stay seasonal, so on their respective equinox or solstice, they celebrate to restore said magic."

"Huh."

"For example, the Spring Court celebrates Calanmai, and to put it briefly, they restore their magic by having sex."

You grinned slowly — in disbelief.

Azriel raised a brow and gave you a sidelong look.

"You're kidding," you said, trying to gauge his expression. "Right?"

"Nope."

You blurted out a laugh and then slapped a hand over your mouth. "That's . . . Wow . . . Okay, then." You giggled into your palm, and once you caught your breath, you asked, "So then, what does the Summer Court do? Something similar? Or better? Worse?"

"Relax." You felt Azriel's amusement through the bond. "To restore its magic, the Summer Court hosts games to display exertion and movement. There's also dancing and eating."

". . . games to display exertion and movement."

"So . . ." You cocked your head to the side. "The Olympics?"

"The what?"

You waved a hand. "Uh, never mind. It's nothing. Anyway, that sounds cool, but do I have to participate?"

"No, of course not."

You sighed, relieved. "Oh, thank the Mother."

Azriel snorted. "You know, the Summer Court's celebrations may not be as sensual as the Spring's, but the games' competitors are naked. It's tradition."

Your eyes widened. "Interesting. Naked, you say? Like, completely naked?"

"Some wear loincloths," Azriel said. "Otherwise, everyone's naked."

The sudden mental image of Azriel in nothing but a loincloth and sweating made your heart skip a beat.

"Do I—?" You cleared your throat. "What's the dress code for everyone else?"

Azriel watched his hand as he tightened his grip around your thigh. "To my knowledge, people wear whatever they want."

"But . . ?"