A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 40 - Collapsed

Elain stared across the long mahogany table, her eyes catching on the sparkling high fae gazes trained on her face, her heart thudding, the echo pounding in her ears. She felt her lip tremble, but then a scarred hand was upon hers, covering her small fingers, Azriel's thumb rubbing the length of her wrist to her fingertip. Her breathing settled, and she pulled her shoulders back.

She could do this.

Her mind automatically dredged up the day before Patras, flipping Amren's coin, the sparkling gold flashing in the late Velaris afternoon sun as Feyre and Rhys exchanged a look. She almost chuckled to herself now, sitting here in this same room months later, realizing that the High Lord and Lady must have been angling Elain away from the Day Court for more reasons than just Helion's raucous parties. Lucien... his paternity... she shuddered. So much had happened between now and then—sitting here now with Azriel's hand on hers beneath the table... she never would have imagined this outcome back then.

"Thank you for coming." Rhys began the meeting for Elain, his formal tone echoing through the dining room.

The table was set for eight, with Rhys and Elain at the head and foot respectively. Feyre sat next to Rhys, Nyx on her lap, happily smacking the table with his chubby palms. Cassian was placed between Feyre and Nesta, his hands clasped behind his head, allowing for his enormous body to casually lean back in his chair. Nesta was on his other side sitting next to Elain, her shoulder angled ever so slightly so that she was physically placing herself between the High Lord and her younger sister. Across from Feyre, Amren slouched in her seat, a bored expression on her lips, Morrigan on her other side, absentmindedly twirling a lock of her blonde hair. Azriel sat between the blonde and Elain, his dark wings tucked tightly behind him, his shadows swirling and floating across the ground as his thumb continued its route along Elain's hand.

"As if we had a choice." Amren drawled, reaching forward toward her wine glass, swirling the mahogany liquid as she rolled her eyes.

Elain saw Nesta's lip twitch into a smile as Feyre shot Amren an aggravated look, Nyx still happily smashing his hands down onto the gilded dining table.

"I bet Elain is pretty done with meetings..." Cassian tried to lighten the mood, glancing toward Elain, his eyes flickering down toward the scarred slash on her neck, still angry and red from Tamlin's blade. "Maybe we can make it quick."

"Actually," Elain croaked, finding her voice with a cough. "I was the one who wanted to have this meeting." She cleared her throat as she saw Amren and Morrigan's brows shoot up with interest, the blonde sitting up in her seat and dropping the tendril of hair she was fingering.

Sensing Elain's anxiety, Feyre intercepted the conversation. "As you know, the proposal to make Elain the High Lady of Spring is still an option."

Cassian let out a whistle as Nesta's jaw twitched, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

"Ahh. I see." Amren's formal voice echoed in the room, her eyes blazing toward Rhysand's. "Well... as of right now, Spring is our enemy. If we support the move to oust Tamlin, we could forge a valuable ally—bookending Prythian in Made-Fae." She smiled wickedly across the table at the Inner Circle.

"That's exactly what Beron said." Nesta's chilling tone cut across the room, her eyes steely and dark.

"Well being an asshole doesn't necessarily mean one cannot be logical." Amren retorted, taking a sip of her wine as she glanced towards Mor who shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "We have strong ties with Summer," her eyes glowed, her mind no doubt darting toward Varian. "And our relations with Dawn, Winter, and Day are also somewhat positive..."