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43. Devout

"Ooh! Look at this, (Y/n)." Gwyn removed a dagger from its wooden, felt-lined box. It couldn't have been bigger than her delicate but calloused hand, but it was beautiful. Its steel blade was curved, and its hilt, carved out of jade, was accented with gold and precious gems. "And it's from . . . Tamlin." She scrunched her nose. "Hm. Interesting."

You chuckled and swirled your wine. "And why's that?"

"He's a bastard," Nesta answered. She was currently organizing your presents behind the settee you were sitting on, so you turned around. You propped your chin on the top rail and then gave her a questioning look. When she saw it, she sighed. She folded a fur coat before saying, "At least, he used to be. He's better now."

You shrugged. "All right. Is it . . . personal?"

Nesta returned your shrug with another sigh. "Yes, but . . . it's been a few years since . . ." She shook her head. "Never mind. It's in the past. And now that you're a High Lord, you have to get along with him. I don't want to muddy the waters."

You were pleasantly surprised by Nesta's professionalism.

"He's . . . better," Gwyn said, and then she giggled. Putting the dagger away, she added, "Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing. He's trying."

You nodded before taking a long swig of wine.

Your presents hadn't been touched, and because Nesta had looked like she'd been dying to organize them, you'd asked her to. You'd insisted that Gwyn and Emerie help you with the present opening, but Emerie had politely refused and instead requested to read Koschei's diary.

Gwyn gave the wooden box to Nesta, and as they debated where to put it, you turned back around so that you could look at Emerie. The Illyrian was sitting sideways on a plush blue chair with the diary on her bare thighs. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was, in fact, a horcrux and would have to be destroyed — eventually.

You finished your wine and then poured yourself another glass. "Anything interesting?" you asked Emerie. "You can skip the smutty parts if you want to."

Emerie gasped, shocked, marked her spot with an index finger, and then gave you an incredulous look. "Skip the smutty parts?! Those're the only parts I'm reading!"

You and the other girls laughed.

"Your loss!" Emerie shook the diary at you. "But — wait! Did you get to the part where Koschei and Azur go to the Spring Court to celebrate Calanmai?"

"No," you said, grinning into your glass. "I hadn't gotten there yet."

Emerie squealed. "Hold on! Let me find it."

You choked on your wine. "Wait, Em, it's okay. You don't have to read it out loud. I can read it later. I don't want to embarrass you."

Nesta barked out a laugh. "You can't embarrass Emerie. We used to talk about smut during training."

"What do you mean used to?" Gwyn teased. Nesta snorted.

When Emerie found the Calanmai diary entry she'd been looking for, she shushed everyone aggressively. "Okay! Come on. Listen to this." She cleared her throat and straightened.

~

May 1, 1

I still can't walk straight, and Azur took me to Calanmai two whole days ago.

He'd worn a black wrap with colorful metallic embellishments, but I'd only worn a silver collar. Azur insisted I call it a necklace, but I'm not a fool. I know a collar when I see one.