𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It was the day of Starfall.

Arwen barely contained herself all morning, singing around the House of Wind, biting into food then forgetting about it because she simply had energy bubbling through her that wanted somewhere to go.

Rhysand sat with Cassian in one of the main entertainment rooms, discussing a new development of houses to be built for the growing population of the hidden city. Arwen danced her way through the room in search of Mor. Rhysand watched her with a crooked smile, his stomach clenching with a silent laugh at the singing of his cousin's name. He was glad she still loved the day. It had always been her favourite and after the attack he feared that she would go into her shell. For the first few years, it had been somewhat the case, but she always came out in the end.

The High Lord became conscious of the tattoo marking their bargain that coiled around his bicep like a thorned cuff. A promise: a promise that they would never spend a Starfall apart, and if they did, she could ask anything of him and he had to oblige. After almost missing one, and realising that he'd never have another with his mother, the bargain was simply a symbol of a promise he made himself long before it was tattooed. Something she could look at and know. Something he could wear and in the few times he's seen the High Lord of the Spring Court since, show that they failed to take his sister too.

He rubbed the sleeve of his black shirt.

"Not sure why we bother keeping a calendar," Cassian remarked, leaning deep into the sofa. He had her half-eaten apple in hand that she discarded after greeting them only minutes before. He swore he saw her with something else to eat in her hand again.

"So we don't forget her birthday," Rhysand drawled. "It's the one thing she won't remind us of." Until the morning of with the ceremony of bounding onto his bed. The challenge had become to wake before her. "Speaking of, I can't think of what to do for her 200th."

Cassian snorted, biting into the apple. "It's still five years away, got plenty of time."

"One would think." And Rhysand had that exact thought for some time, until he did attempt one late, sleepless night to think of how to celebrate such a day. And his mind ran blank like it didn't exist. He, his sister and his mother had celebrated it with a beautiful party filled with song and dance and wine. Even eighty years past he still recalled it. He wanted hers to be just the same, if not better.

Arwen wrapped her arms around Mor. "I'll go tell the others to get ready." Mor chuckled in her leave as she bounded back to where her brother and Cassian sat. Arriving from behind the sofa, she wrung her arms around each of their necks. "We're going down to eat at the restaurant for lunch."

"It's not lunchtime," her brother pointed out.

Arwen paused. "Late morning meal then. Up. We're going now."

And that was all the command she needed for them to rise and stretch. Too easy, her mind told her. Arms swinging by her sides, she gave a moment of thought to the bond. It led her where it needed to and soon Arwen was knocking on the closed door of one of the small studies. Inside, Azriel sat with a book, elbows braced against his knees.

She came to stand in front of him and plucked the book, laying it on the nearby desk face down so the page was kept.

"I was reading that."

"I'm aware. I did not think I gave the impression of being blind."

Azriel watched her through his lashes, trailing his gaze across each of her limbs. His shadows whispered fervently in his ears, one even moving to coil around her ankle, threatening to slip up under the material of her dress. For both their sakes, he silently commanded it back. Though they didn't always listen, it did this time.