A Court of Death || ACOTAR

66

Astryn spent the day with Helion before returning to the Night Court. Azriel and Cassian were still awake when she arrived, sitting by the fire debating battle tactics. They both smiled at her when she entered.

"How was the Day Court?" Azriel asked politely, and again Astryn noted the difference in his tone now compared to what it would have been four hundred years ago. It was a question, not an accusation.

"Lovely," she answered, "but I will say, the Night Court may have better food."

"In my unbiased opinion, we have the best food in all of Prythian," Cassian remarked, and Astryn let out a hum as she grabbed a block of cheese to slice and pair with some bread.

"Either of you want any?" she offered.

Cassian opened his mouth and closed it again before shooting a look towards Azriel that lacked any degree of subtly.

"I was just heading up to bed, actually," he told her, "but thanks. Az did just mention before you got here that he's hungry though."

Astryn raised an eyebrow at Cassian and he grinned before letting out a cheerful goodnight.

"Sorry," Azriel muttered after an awkward few seconds following Cassian's departure.

"I hope you realize he's probably eavesdropping from the top of the stairs," Astryn commented instead of acknowledging the apology.

"I'm fully aware," Azriel replied, lips curved up into a smile, "Cassian is skilled at a great many things. Minding his own business is not one of those things."

"Nor is the art of subtly," she added on, and an exasperated huff sounded from the top of the stairs.

Azriel smiled to himself, and his mind drifted to back when this might have been Cassian's business. He knew things wouldn't ever be like that again, but Cassian's place in his relationship with Astryn was a fond memory. He had fit with them well.

They waited to speak again until they finally heard Cassian go to his room.

"I used to wonder if he loved you," Azriel brought up, "if he loved you the way I love you. And if you could love him in that same way."

"And you weren't jealous?" she asked cautiously as she continued slicing the block of cheese.

"No," Azriel answered honestly, "when I wondered if you could love Cassian, it was mostly under the assumption that you might love us both."

"I do love Cassian, but only as my friend," she told him after a few moments of contemplation, "he's wonderful, but I could never have loved him the way I loved you."

Azriel stilled. Pieces fell into place.

I love you.

I loved you.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise, the past tense she spoke of her feelings for him now. She was giving them another chance—giving him a chance to do better. But they love they once had? That was in the last for her.

I loved you.

It was painful, unimaginably painful, and yet he knew it was a reality of his own making. A future he had crafted.

"Azriel," Astryn murmured, her tone bordering on apologetic but not quite there. He was glad for it, for the fact that she wasn't apologizing, because she had no reason to be sorry.

"When you left," he began, "I didn't stop you because I didn't realize how much I had broken us. I didn't realize love had become loved. I thought you would just come back again. And I do regret not stopping you, not doing better and changing back then. I regret not being someone you could love. I regret not fighting for you when you left. And I mourn every moment I lost with you because of my own foolishness, but I am grateful that you stopped loving me when I stopped deserving your love."

She stared at him for a few seconds, lips parted in shock. He wondered if there had been a reaction she had been anticipating—if she had expected him to be angry at those words, I loved you.

"You were right to stop loving me, Astryn. You were right to leave. You were right. About everything."

She let out a shaking breath, setting down the knife and closing her eyes for a moment as those simple words sunk in.

You were right.

It felt silly that those words meant more than any I'm sorry did.

You were right.

Three simple, easy little words that meant more to her than she knew how to admit. She knew she was right, of course. She knew she was right the very moment she decided she was leaving. But hearing it meant something.

"You were right," Azriel repeated, "and I am grateful to you for that, because I honestly don't know if I have enough goodness in me to have realized how bad I had become if you had stayed. I am grateful to you for giving me a chance to love you the way you always deserve to be loved."

"I regret that I didn't tell you how I felt sooner," she admitted, "I regret that I pretended to be okay with the way things were going. To you and to Rhys. Or even to Cassian because I think if I had told him he would have agreed with me. I was...I still didn't know what any type of relationship was supposed to look like back then. I didn't know that the way things were between you and I and...between me and everyone here...I hadn't known that it wasn't right. But everyone else knew, right?"

And Azriel wished he could deny it. He wished he could claim there was not a single moment in which he or any of the rest of them realized what they were doing to her. He wished he could claim his actions were not borne of jealousy and insecurity and things he knew better than to let fuel him. He wished he could claim that Rhys had fully believed his harsh rules were for Astryn's own good. He wished he could claim that everyone else believed that too when they agreed to it. But he couldn't.

"Yes," he whispered the shameful truth, "we knew."

"I know," she mumbled with a nod, "I know that you knew. All of you."

She hadn't been looking for him to confirm anything, only to confess it.