A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 52: Seal

Chapter 52: Seal

Galadriel sat on the bed, flipping the ruby Siphon over in her palm. It gleamed in the morning sunlight that poured in through the hazy window, illuminating the thick layer of dust on the windowsill. Cassian had given her one of his Siphons the night before when she wouldn't stop fidgeting with the tassels on a pillow.

"They help me feel safe," he had told her quietly. "In control." Azriel was in the kitchen cleaning up their supper, ceramic and metal clashing about. It wasn't usual for him to cause such a commotion and she couldn't help but feel it was done exactly so Cassian could have this conversation with her without feeling like they were being listened in on. "Reminds me of the power that I have and it's only my self-control that lets half the pricks in this place keep their cocks."

Galadriel had choked on a laugh at that, taking the heavy gem in her palm. "I'm sure they're grateful for that, even if they don't show it."

He smiled knowingly. "Rhys can take you home tonight if that's what you want. He's due to check in at any moment."

There was only one more night planned in her stay at Windhaven and determined not to cower before him, she shook her head. "I'm just restless. It's new. Different from Autumn even. Warriors there—they're brutal but they aren't rough. I'm not used to it." Galadriel tucked her hands into her lap, Siphon along with them. "This isn't the insult that it might sound like, but... You belong here, Cass." Her eyes went to the window, watching the flickering torchlights and the dark silhouettes moving about the dirt streets. "I don't think Azriel does, but you do."

"I don't take that as an insult at all." Cassian smiled wider from his crouch next to her chair. He folded his arms along the cushioned armrest. "I'm proud to be Illyrian. Not everything about it, but it's my blood and these are my people. Just like you can't get rid of the spring in you, Spring Flower."

"Careful; you might manifest your allergies into playing up."

Galadriel broke from the memory, the faint echo of the crackling fire and laughter simmering into nothingness. Outside of the window, the morning bustle was already well underway, having started even before she woke with the sun. The distant sizzle of oil accompanied by low grumbles signalled that Cassian and Azriel were also already well underway in preparing for the day. Galadriel remained in bed, forever waiting for that distinct tightness in her chest.

When it came, her feet barely touched the floor.

Rhys stood in the sitting room, his head cocked like an animal listening for something far off. Their eyes met across the room, his cautious and reading, hers bright and wide.

The distance between them was gone. Her arms went around his stomach, her face into his shoulder. He caught her with equal vigour, the backs of her heels lifting from the ground. Four days. It had only been four days and she was acting like they'd spent a lifetime apart. That she was the Sun that had been forever chasing the Moon.

The edge of the ruby gemstone cut into her fingers, but she welcomed the pain. It reminded her that every second was real.

"Don't take it too personally." Galadriel half-pulled away to peer at Cassian who spoke from the threshold to the kitchen, arms folded, leant against the wall. "Other than us, she's been surrounded by foul faces."

Rhysand chuckled lowly, his hand smoothing across her neck, pushing her hair off her shoulder and face. "I'll still take it," he said. "Anything to report?"

The shadowsinger meandered into the sitting room, a steaming mug in hand. His burning hazel eyes surveyed Galadriel in the High Lord's embrace, his face stoic. But then when he caught her watching him back, he smiled, as though what he saw was everything as it should be.