A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 27 - Truth Teller

Elain woke to the most beautiful sight she had ever seen in her short life.

More beautiful than any sunset, or rose petal, or even her beloved nephew Nyx—

The sight of Azriel, peacefully asleep.

The dark circles she had noticed beneath his eyes when he held her close yesterday morning, winnowing them to the continent, had faded overnight. He was still sleeping, breathing cedar and mist into her very bones, her own lips only inches from his. His hands were tucked beneath the side of his head like a little child. She guessed that they had fallen asleep like that, facing one another without touching, and she realized that it had been one of the most restful sleep in many weeks. Maybe even many years.

Her eyes scanned his dark skin and short black hair, almost glowing in the morning sunlight. The onyx tattoos curled across his chest, up his neck toward his head. Long lashes rested on his high cheekbones, his lips pursed, perfectly shaped against his sharp jaw. Elain felt that she could stare at the Shadowsinger for the rest of her life, his shadows awakening and floating above them both, a soft company that never caused her to fear.

Because to her, those shadows were not darkness or mystery: they were Azriel.

Pure and perfect.

She sensed him stirring and flipped onto her back, narrowly avoiding his gaze as he awoke. "Good morning." She whispered, clutching the sheet to her body, urging her heaving chest to calm.

"Good morning." He replied quietly, not looking in her direction.

Azriel's morning voice was low and scratchy, and Elain nearly felt her eyes roll to the back of her skull from the luster of it caressing against her mind. He drew his hand to rub his forehead and sat up, swinging his long legs off the bed and turning his back and wings toward her. She released her caught breath and slipped from the covers, her feet touching the cold ground.

"Oh!" She started, pulling her feet back onto the bed, and almost falling backward onto the quilts.

The Shadowsinger glanced toward her, and leaned down, rummaging through one of their worn leather bags. He picked up a pair of folded wool stockings and came toward her, lowering to the squeaky floorboards on one knee, taking her small foot to his hand. Elain fought the memories of the last time he had kneeled before her, focusing instead on Azriel's scarred hands holding her foot, tugging the stocking on gently before he grabbed her other foot and repeated the action.

His hands lingered then, almost for a moment too long, holding her ankle, his thumb grazing across her skin, his eyes fastened to her foot. Elain felt her heartrate flutter, their breathing the only sound filling the room. Looking up toward her, Azriel gazed at her for another moment, until Elain looked away, covering her mouth and releasing a cough, severing the gaze.

"I haven't awoken to cold floors since we lived in the cottage. My sisters and I shared a bed. We were very poor back then, and—" She felt herself rambling, keenly aware of the fact that Azriel had yet to release her ankle. "Uhm, is your headache gone? Did you sleep okay?" She felt his scarred thumb caress her skin slightly, causing a ripple of goosebumps to sweep up her leg.

Her eyes flicked back toward his, and he opened his mouth, as if to speak before he seemed to change his mind. Releasing her ankle, he drew to his full height, his wings brushing against the ceiling.

"Let's go." Azriel's low voice rumbled through the space as he turned away from her, exiting the room. "I'll be waiting for you outside. Take your time." He called over his shoulder, swiping up his leathers and knives as he left, pulling the door closed behind him.