A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 55: A Plan; A Fool

Chapter 55: A Plan; A Fool

Galadriel had never seen Mor pace before. The Morrigan had her arms tightly woven over her sternum, lips pushed together and pulled to her teeth as though someone had sewn them shut. Snow fell lightly from a pleated grey sky, but the harrowing days of winter had passed. It was nearly half an hour after Azriel had left that he arrived back at the town house. Cassian trailed him in, his brows furrowed in concern. She didn't know what Azriel had told him, but she too would be concerned if she saw that unsettled face that shadowsinger wore.

Not Amren, Galadriel had instructed Azriel and Mor. She didn't trust Amren enough that she wouldn't go straight to Rhys and tattle on her plan.

Placing a hand on Mor's shoulder to stop her mid-stride, Cassian surveyed the sitting room. A fresh bruise blossomed on his right cheekbone, specks of blood on the other that suggested an already healed rash from skin grating against stone. Galadriel pushed the image of Rhys causing that out of her head. If Cassian couldn't handle it, he wouldn't have provoked Rhys.

"Galadriel," Azriel paused, eyes raking over her before he shuffled to the far side of the hearth where he took a rigid stance, "has a proposition."

"One she hasn't thought through," Mor warned Cassian.

Cassian regarded her before looking at Galadriel. "What is it?"

"Rhys's mother's ring," she said. Cassian's expression darkened. He was already shaking his head before she continued. "He can't go to the Weaver's home himself because from what I've gathered, he and that death god don't have a pleasant relationship."

"And—" he swallowed "—you want to go, I assume?"

"It's his mother's ring." Galadriel grasped at opposing elbows, shoulders sagging. "I don't want it for myself, but I can see that it weighs on him to not have it. After everything he's done for me, I owe it to try." There was still guilt too, for her brother's actions that meant his mother wasn't here to retrieve it herself.

Mor glared up at Cassian. "I told you. Stupid. Azriel thinks so too."

Their gazes went to the spymaster, Cassian's especially weighing. Galadriel turned in her ex-master's direction, weight shifting across her feet. Azriel's jaw clenched, resenting the attention on him. She wondered if he would speak at all before he uttered, "It's not worth the risk. Rhys wouldn't think it was worth the risk."

"He was thinking about sending one of you," Galadriel pointed out.

"But he didn't," Azriel argued. "And if he doesn't want to send one of us, what do you think he'll do when he finds out you want to go merrily knocking on the door of that creature? Or have already gone and returned without him knowing?"

"You've got to admit, Az." Cassian rested his fists on the belt at his hips, head cocked as he offered a shadowed smirk. "She has guts." Her lips twitched upwards; a small thanks. "We can talk her out of it and run the risk that she'll go by herself in the middle of the night. Maybe she might leave us a note. Or we go with her."

"Rhys told us not to go."

It was Mor that said, "Technically he just never gave us the order to." Under the heat of Azriel's glower, she added, "Cassian's right. She's also High Lady."

"Not officially," Azriel seethed. Galadriel flinched, a painful pang striking in the low of her stomach. Those hazel eyes flickered between each of them, calculating the lone position he had taken. He shook his head. "No. I can't."

A fist squeezed her chest. "You can't what, Azriel?" Galadriel placed a hand on her aching ribs. "I'm the one going in. I won't ask you to do anything."