A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 20: The Interrogation

Chapter 20: The Interrogation

She had been living alone in this city for a miserable month. Well, miserable might just be a bit theatrical. On this particular day, Galadriel decided to wear something silver for the sole purpose of mourning her now-deceased garden. Even in late summer, there were no droughts or overbearingly hot days except one where she had not left the shade, but alas her flowers were wilted and the once green stalks as brown as dried mud, flaking like it too.

"That is pathetic."

Galadriel leapt, not having heard the small female who crept up to her short white-picket fence. Amren, in her all her sublime glory, raised a dark and pointed brow at the scene before her. She wore a simple faded blue attire of pants and a blouse, an armband of gold on her bicep. Those grey eyes made the silver dress Galadriel had purchased for the funeral event seem as dull as empty rainclouds.

Galadriel kicked her sandal against the edge of the dirt mound where the garden bed lay. "I know." She waited for Amren to ask to come in. No—no Amren wouldn't ask. She'd walk right in as if it were her own home. So it was even more surprising that the not-Fae remained on the other side of the fence. Galadriel's home was further away from the main centre of town than the town house was, which meant that any wanderers she had come her way were either heading to a pretty walk through one of the parks that veered close to the Sidra, or were looking for someone. Seeing as the answer wasn't coming without prompt, she aimed for the fence. "Can I help you, Amren?"

They had only met twice. Once at the dinner, another time in passing when she visited the townhouse whilst Galadriel still slept there.

"No," she replied curtly, eyes scanning the pile of weeds Galadriel had somewhat pulled free. "I think if anybody needs help around here, it's you."

Galadriel's brows rose to her hairline. "You know how to garden?"

"Gods, girl." Amren hissed a sound that was likely her version of amusement. Or scorn. It was difficult to tell. "I thought you were a spy. Observant. Do I look like I spend my days frolicking in—" she pursed her lips distastefully with another glance at the dirt "—fertiliser."

Consciously dusting her hands clean, Galadriel bowed her head to hide the small smile. "No," she admitted. "But I'm not sure what other help you could have meant." Looking down at her dress, she was sure Amren hadn't meant her fashion choices either.

Tilting her head scrutinisingly, Amren didn't immediately reply. "Azriel won't tell me about what you were doing when he found you." She said it as though it was nothing more than a statement, but Galadriel wasn't that naïve.

"He found me on a lake. Frozen. I almost drowned when the ice broke beneath me." Despite the warm sun overhead, a chill seeped through her bones.

Amren began to walk parallel to the fence. She picked at her nails as she did with a disinterested expression. Or perhaps it was disbelief. "Winter Court, then. Is that where you are from originally?"

Striding to keep up along the other side of the fence, Galadriel frowned again, feeling a rise inside her body urging her to defend herself. "Oh, um, no. No, I was born in Spring Court but I was only there for a little over ten years." How much was too much to give away? Azriel likely knew enough about her past, and if he told Rhysand then that was his decision, but Galadriel knew it was in her better interest to keep it to herself. It was a past she thought well of leaving behind.

"Did someone break the ice?"

Frowning in a bit of shock, Galadriel said, "What? No. I was alone." At least, she hoped she was. Other than Azriel, that is.