A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 8

He'd plowed right fucking into her.

The shadows hid Gwyn's presence from him. Again. The conniving little shits shuddered with wispy, dark laughter. Hell, one minute into the evening, his plans were already off the rails. That was all he could think of as he stumbled backward.

"Whoa, you all right?" His grasp on her forearms steadied her as she swayed.

Gwyn's face raised, the light blush bringing out the flecks on her cheeks. There were seven freckles that graced the slope of her nose. When and how he was able to recall the exact amount from memory was a mystery. But he'd been able to nevertheless.

As she gained her footing, their eyes met and held. Bright blue-green irises gleamed to the color of the Siphons adorning his grips. They made him picture tranquil seas. Wading pools and secret coves. Summers along the Sidra.

Those thoughts shifted as he took notice of his hands. Fingers still wrapped around her arms. Azriel quickly loosened his grip, dropping his arms to his sides. If she'd been taken aback by his touch, Gwyn showed no reaction. Relief smoothed his worried mind. "All right, your chaperone is here." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "So, where to?"

She turned to the railing, absently twisting a loose strand of shiny copper around her forefinger. He made note of her fidgeting. Her emotional cues. Releasing her coiled hair, Gwyn stared at the expanse below, leaning her elbows on the half wall. Az joined her, running his callused palms over the smooth masonry.

"I'm not sure. I figured I'd leave that part up to you, Shadowsinger. As I mentioned, I need a chaperone and a guide." She braved a smile. It was too tight. Too forced.

"All right. I'll see what I can do. What are your limitations, Berdara?"

Her delicate fingers tapped a nervous rhythm. The priestess paced in front of the barrier, peering below to the city lights twinkling. "Limitations. I've considered those. And, to be honest, I thought, hey, I'm gutsy, let's go full speed, but..."

Her reluctance didn't sit well with him. It wasn't fair. Someone as fearless as Gwyn should never feel anything but safe. Free to do as she pleased.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Az gave her all the time she'd need to find her words. And, thanks to his occupation, patience was one of his finer skills.

Gwyn rubbed her brow, shaking her head. "I'm not scared." An affirmation rather than assurance. "I don't want to be, but I need to be...comfortable."

Comfort and safety. Two criteria he could certainly work with.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Azriel ran down a mental checklist.

Someplace not bustling at night. Relatively quiet, where she could step a toe in the water, so to speak.

Where you could be alone, his shadows supplied their unsolicited advice, which he ignored with a roll of his eyes. Not helping.

A locale that was suitable for walking. Where Gwyn could see all Velaris offered from a safe distance.

The shadows returned with, Someplace you could do something she loves.

Something she loved?

How the hell did he know anything she loved when they barely knew each other?

Not true, his shadows butted in once more. You know her more than you know.

Perhaps something involving sparring? Or reading?

Just what any girl wants to do on a night out; fight. And doesn't our priestess do enough of reading at the library, Shadowsinger?

Fuck, Az was in real trouble when his shadows showed more common sense than he did.