A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 49: Labels Carry Weight

Chapter 49: Labels Carry Weight

Galadriel sat wrapped up in a blanket with a book on her lap within the alcove window in the sitting room. Azriel had left, it seemed, but Cassian didn't have an answer for where he went and had to leave himself, which left her alone in a serene stillness. The sun rose high and by the time she heard any movement, her thoughts were already venturing in the direction of lunch.

Over the top of her bent knees, Galadriel watched Rhysand creep into view in the hall, his eyes scanning the kitchen through the archway before turning on the sitting room where he found her. As he walked closer, she suddenly found she could barely look into those eyes, memories of last night swarming through her like a shaken beehive.

"Good morning," he greeted with a low roughness that told her they were the first words of his day. Rhysand bent over, bracing his knuckles on the cushioned ledge of the alcove seat to be at her height. "Is my bedroom so miserable that you couldn't wait for me to wake?"

Folding her book closed, she dropped her knees to stretch her legs, as though wriggling her toes was a sufficient distraction to not answer. "I've been up for hours," she told him. "I feared I'd be waiting until tonight by the way you were snoring."

A smile twitched. "I haven't slept in for so long in many years."

"I'm not sure it counts as a sleep-in if we were up so late." The smile grew. "Cassian left about an hour ago. So did Azriel. I haven't heard anything from Mor's room."

Rhys just stood there for a moment, hunched with his ruffled hair, staring at her. "Cocoa?" he asked after a few moments. At first she thought he was asking if she wanted some, but when she found his gaze directed at the corner of her mouth—

Galadriel hastily pulled the sleeve of her coat over her palm and wiped the area clean, probably scraping a layer of skin off as she did. He laughed, pressing the curve of his nose into her shoulder. "I was talking with Cassian for an hour and he said nothing!" she bleated. "What is with you Illyrians not telling me I have food on my face." She was going to murder him with the very same manoeuvre he taught her not five days ago.

Rhys pried her fist away from her face. "Gentle," he cooed. "That's my favourite place." He pressed a kissed first to the centre of her mouth, then to the corner of her lips where she'd been rubbing. "One of them," he added slyly.

Rolling her eyes to shield the giddiness from him, Galadriel leant back against the wall, pulling her legs under her to make room for him to sit. He did, feet hanging over the edge. "What happens now?" she asked.

"Usually we'd spend today recovering," he jeered, the two meanings intertwining with that smirk. "But I have a feeling that's not what you're asking about."

With a little sigh to give herself more time, Galadriel turned herself to the window, facing opposing ways. "If you were an ordinary male it would be simple, but you're not." They looked at each other over the points of their shoulders. "You're nowhere near ordinary and I don't know what that means for me."

"What do you want it to mean?"

Damn him. She hated the question—hated having to think and make those choices. Things were so much easier to handle if they went wrong when they weren't her decision. It could be just a little question, just to gauge her thoughts. But she knew it was more. He was asking because whatever she said she wanted, he would give.

So she gave him a helpless answer she hoped was just as infuriating as the question was for her. "That it makes everything easier."

But of course, that didn't shake him one bit. "Many things can be," he answered. "We don't need to think about money. Family Approval. I would say that there are no other males in the picture but..." He angled his head toward her, silence demanding her reply.