A Court of Innocents

2: Acceptance

I took a bath.

Two.

Three.

Until the stain of Tamlin's blood  was nothing more than a memory, until I was half-convinced that it was only a nightmare.

I'd evaded the confused stares of everyone after Tamlin's departure. I didn't want to answer the questions I knew they had, so I'd ran like the coward I was and didn't stop until I was back at the townhouse. I only left the bathing room when the mirrors were so foggy I couldn't catch a glimpse of my reflection. I saw the irony in it, of how the fogged-up mirrors reflected the state of my thoughts right now.

Tamlin was my mate.

My mate.

Of all the people in the entire world, it was him. That gods-damned bastard. The man who had broken my High Lady, left her in pieces for Rhysand to repair. The man who had sided with Hybern, let that monstrous king into his home and practically handed over the Spring Court.

I hated him. Or, I wanted to hate him. But suddenly hating him was impossible when my heart wanted nothing but him.

And what about Azriel?

Oh gods, Az...

I dressed in a pale gray dress that fell beautifully against my sun-kissed skin. Tamlin had claimed this court was only darkness, but it was in the Illyrian camps that my skin had gotten its glow. He thought we were all whores and criminals, but the sacred walls of the Velaris libraries had wiped away all impurities. Remade me into something better. How could he explain that away?

A knock came at my door just as I'd finished pulling my hair back into a braid.

Azriel stood on the other side, his shadows a faint memory. "Are you alright?"

I forgot words.

The feelings I'd had for him just this morning... they were still there. My hands still ached to reach out to him, my mouth still longed to memorize the taste of his skin. From what little I knew of the mating bond, I had imagined that I would only want Tamlin for the rest of my life, but I was wrong.

My stomach knotted with guilt at the relief that knowledge gave me. "I'm embarrassed. I shouldn't have lashed out like that. It cost us the alliance."

Azriel shut the door behind us. My room was decorated sparsely, with a bed pressed against the right wall. Beside the floor-to-ceiling window that looked over the city below, an armoire contained all of my belongings. Bits of midday sunlight broke through the glass, illuminating the otherwise dark bedroom. The small space was more than what I deserved. Rhysand and Feyre had been more than generous in offering this room to me and I worked everyday to prove to them that it wasn't wasted. Everyday, I fell short.

Az leaned against the doorframe, his wings spanning out behind him. I studied the arch in those limbs, the way light filtered through the fibrous membrane, and became lost to darker thoughts, sinful in their desire. It took me a long moment for me to realize he had spoken and even longer for his words to register. "You didn't ruin the chance of our alliance. Tamlin's mind was made up from the moment he arrived here. I imagine he only came to sneer at Rhys and Feyre."

Right. Tamlin.

I was so angry--with him, with this predicament. Angry for my High Lady, who deserved the world. Angry that Tamlin didn't see her value. Angry that I only knew he was my mate now, after he had become the enemy, after I had given my heart to other people.

"But," Az continued, "you're right. You shouldn't have lashed out like that. You have fire in you, Yara, but to be a good spy—"

"To be a good spy I must leash my emotions," I finished for him, repeating the words he'd thrown at me for decades now. "I know. And I tried, I just... Tamlin is..." I couldn't find the words. A sigh crept out as I slumped on the edge of my bed in defeat.