A Court of Dreams and Promise

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Azriel

The tension was unbearable, almost palpable, as Azriel walked out the door and bumped into Feyre.

They had talked with Iona and Sylvie again, coordinating with Roland as well where Kallias's patrols were most likely to be at certain times of the day.

Azriel cleared his throat, his shadows flying and masking part of his face when he began to move quickly past Feyre.

"Azriel." Feyre's voice was cold.

Azriel tried to hide his wince as he turned around slowly. Azriel waited for his shadows to warn him of the danger he faced, but nothing came. He studied Feyre's face and found only sadness and sympathy.

"Yes?"

Feyre swallowed before lifting her chin, her blue-gray stare piercing into his eyes. "We should talk."

"As High Lady to spymaster or friend to friend?" Azriel asked gruffly, aware of each rise and fall of his breath as his heart began to pound inside his chest.

"No professionalism, Azriel," Feyre said. "Just talking." She beckoned for him to follow him, walking behind the house.

Azriel followed her to a rotting log in the middle of the snow.

Feyre sat down, tossing her braid over a shoulder. As Azriel grew closer, he could see the dullness to her eyes, the slight bags underneath them.

Azriel stayed standing, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his shadows freely circle him.

"Do you...do you really feel like we've neglected you?" Feyre asked hesitantly after a second.

Azriel pursed his lips, inhaling sharply. "All the time? No, definitely not. Sometimes, more now than before? Yes."

Feyre failed to hide her wince, her nose scrunching. "Rhys and I know that you're all a complicated group," she started, "and it's hard to accommodate, especially when most things have centered around us."

"It's not the fact that we're hard to accommodate, it's the fact that we all get a turn in the dramatic light before we have to step back to being supportive," Azriel said. "But for some of us, we've had our dramatics, our low points, but none of you have helped."

"You're referring to yourself and Elain," Feyre said quietly.

"Yes, I am." Azriel's temper flared as he fought to keep it contained. "Yes, you had your own things going on at the time, but that's not what friends are for."

"We know that, Azriel," Feyre said. "I don't know what else to say, to be completely candid. How can we help?"

"I don't know," Azriel said after a moment. "Listen, maybe. I know I come off as reserved, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to talk to me."

Feyre got up. "Okay. I'll try. I'll have Rhysand try," she said. "We'll all try to do better."

Azriel smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for what I said."

"Me, too, Azriel. Me, too."

Azriel realized something. "Have we ever talked this much? Have I ever talked this much?"

Feyre shook her head. "It's Velaria, Az. No matter how confused you're feeling about Elain...Velaria makes you brighten up more than I've ever seen. In the end, however, it is your choice."

Azriel sighed. "I know, and that's what I'm grappling to choose."

Feyre smiled, opening her mouth to say something when Roland ran in, his silver hair glinting in the sunlight.