A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 22

"Nightmare?" Azriel asked, enclosing her in his powerful arms, grounding her to reality before planting a peck on the crown of her head. She needed this, his body strong against her own after reliving the horror hounding her subconscious since the night at the river house. To realize that he was alive for herself. To see the warmth in his eyes, not a damning gaze condemning her, striking her guilty of doing only the Mother knew. Before Azriel inevitably...

"You too?" Gwyn finally gained the determination to ask, and he admitted to her in an answering nod.

"Yes. Although I don't sleep much. Never have." Insomnia; yet something else they had in common. Weren't they a pair? The difference was her lack of slumber had not begun until Hybern's commander started making his return in her nightmares. Before Sangravah, when it was her and Catrin? They slept like babes in their mother's womb. Sound and secure. Since then? All noise in the dark of night made her shiver, compelling her to breathe deeply and use those Mind-Stilling techniques.

But Azriel? How long had he been continuing with no proper rest? Months? Years? Decades? Centuries? She wasn't sure. He had not been forthright with his past either, besides disclosing the stories of the five-centuries-pining and Distraction Girl.

Other than that? Nothing.

Despite this, Gwyn remained patient. She would not push, even though she wished to peel it off layer by layer, hoping it might be cathartic for him.

Gwyn sighed, brushing her nose against his chest, the cotton of his black shirt soft against her skin. "You ready to get your ass kicked, Shadowsinger," she mumbled over his heart, Azriel's chuckle rumbling through him.

"Bring it, Berdara."

More often than not, their bouts of dueling blades or fists lasted nearly till dawn—when both of them fled to creep in a few minutes of rest in their exhaustion, only to meet again at training shortly thereafter.

Yesterday, or rather very early this daybreak, Azriel had dropped the news while he dried sweat off his brow with his forearm.

"We canceled training today."

Gwyn's head cocked in question. "You did?"

He nodded, his mouth curling up on one side. "Today's the Summer Solstice, Berdara. A holiday, remember?" Azriel strode up to her, sweeping back the hair that fell forward out of her braid, sticking to her sweat-damp skin. "And we have a date."

"We do?" Her tone sounded squeaky in her own ears. "Are we spending the day with the Inner Circle or—"

"Just us," Azriel replied, his lips moving against her forehead. "Us all day."

"Indoors? Outdoors? Where are we going? Please tell me," Gwyn prodded, hopping up and down on her toes.

"Outdoors. I know you have service first, so I'll meet you up here this afternoon, all right? I would prefer to come and hear you sing. But I have dispatches to go over before we leave." He said, pressing his lips to hers. "Today, I'm all yours, Berdara." Gwyn felt his grin against her throat, echoing those same words before he'd agreed to their initial excursion into Velaris. "It's going to be hot, so keep the leather at home." Az playfully smacked her leather-clad bottom, kissing her jawline. Gwyn angled her head as his mouth kept skimming over her sticky skin, down her neck. A giggle crept out as his lips blazed a scorching trail.

"Shadowsinger, you need to—" Gwyn squealed as Azriel nipped the side of her neck. "We need to go." She shrieked as he wrapped his arms around her, spinning her around, his lips never leaving her collar.

"Sorry," Az chuckled, setting her back on her own two feet. "I'll see you in a little while."

Gwyn left dizzy and flustered, eager for the surprises ahead.