A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 44: Bunny

Chapter 44: Bunny

Velaris during mid-winter was a sight she'd never seen before. Galadriel sat on the window alcove in the town house sitting room for hours each day, watching the snow build into a wonderland of white, crystals winking back at her under sunlight. It never snowed in Spring or Autumn, her only exposure before from her lethal visit to the border of the Winter Court. She hated the cold, the stinging bite at her fingertips and nose, but inside the town house she was safe. Not to mention that now she had the hang of the magic residing inside her, she could heat her own hands up.

Rhys, notably, never once gave her reason to leave. He didn't ask why she didn't go outside or leave the windows open. He didn't ask her to go with him whenever he left. He just let her exist in this small, warm bubble.

Tipping her head back against the thin wall panel of the alcove, Galadriel gazed over the sitting room, admiring the new decorations adorning it. Wreaths and garlands of pine drooping across the hearth and the bookshelves. A holly bushel making centrepieces on the low table. The Autumn Equinox was a beautiful celebration in its own right, with ribbons strung around posts, leaves dyed and weaved into wreaths and crowns, and the dances led by the younglings in the main market square. Equinox had always excited her—a giddy thrill.

But now, on Winter Solstice eve, Galadriel didn't feel like she couldn't contain herself. In fact, she felt very much at home and despised knowing that the rest of the town house was empty. Even the wraiths had been given a few days off.

Looking back outside, she spied the grey looming over the red mountains. A snowstorm, if the hairs on the back of her neck were any indication—other than the obvious.

It was another hour or so, Galadriel having picked up a book to browse through in the meantime, before bodies flowed in through the front door. Closing the book in her lap, she leant out of the alcove to try and peer further into the hall. Rhys came through first, shrugging off his black coat.

"I debated whether it was wise to have not hidden my presents before I left," he greeted smoothly, hanging the coat on a gilded hook.

Indeed, she had seen the obscenely large pile of presents on the upstairs buffet table. "I only peeked at the others," she promised. A small lie. She'd stared at her own as if there was a possibility of seeing inside it if she stared long enough. It was a relatively small box, about the length and width of her forearm.

Trailing in after him, Azriel, Cassian, Mor and Amren all crowded in the corridor, trying to shove around each other as they too slipped from the outerwear. Rhys tipped his head back to them. "I hope you don't mind the stragglers. I didn't want them trying to fly down if the storm came before tonight."

Galadriel smiled. "I'm glad they're here."

The answer seemed to please him.

"Especially you," she called out when Cassian swung into the sitting room, a broad grin already settled on his roguish face. Galadriel slipped off the alcove seat, pointing at him. "You can guide me to our High Lord's most expensive wine."

Cassian's arm enveloped her shoulders. "My favourite hobby," he bellowed, cackling as the pair passed Rhysand's dry glower. Mor prattled on to Amren and Azriel about something, but neither of them appeared to be listening.

As the general led her to the cellars, Rhys' voice, velvet night, drifted through her mind. 'He's in need of the distraction.'

She didn't need to look back to ask, 'Why's that?'

'He just got back from a meeting with one of the camps. It didn't go so well.'

Glancing up at him, Galadriel could now see the signs of tension. A tightness in his jaw, a heaviness on his shoulders, a hardness in his eyes.