A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 62

"Are you still with that female?" his Mother asked, the fog in her gold-green eyes passing like clouds, the sun peeking out. Her recall of his mention of Gwyn clogged his throat. But his girl had that effect on everyone—once you met her, you could not forget her.

"I—I hope so," Azriel muttered, moving his pawn one square.

His mother peered up beneath her dark, furrowed brow. "Hope so?"

He rubbed at the knots of tension in the back of his neck. "It's ... everything is a mess right now." I messed up, he wanted to say, but held it in with his fears and breath every day. Until she came home.

"Have you told her you love her?" The same question from their last meeting months ago, before Starfall. Before everything came together so beautifully and simultaneously fell apart within a matter of hours.

Azriel swallowed hard, watching as his mother toyed with her alabaster rook between two fingers. "Yes."

She moved her piece two spaces to the right. "And she loves you? She said as much?"

"Yes. She said she loves me." Azriel couldn't help but smile at the memory. "She said it first, actually."

His mother grinned widely, making his heart soar . Every single moment of happiness for her was a gift. She scooted back in her chair, smoothing out the skirts of her ivy green dress and her ebony swath of shoulder-length waves.

"If she loves you and you her?" his mother started, her soulful green-gold eyes wholly focused on him. She shrugged. "Ultimately, that's all that matters. Love overcomes all obstacles and barriers. Love—genuine, kind devotion between two trusting hearts—knows no bounds. I am confident you will figure things out, my dearest friend."

Az didn't think it was possible to feel uplifted and deflated at the same time.

Thoughts were like a torrent when he asked, "Were you ever in love with someone?"

His mother's face faltered a bit, her eyes searching. "I am not sure. There was a male, once. Centuries ago. I was young, and he was older. I worked for him... But... I don't think I was in love with him? Or maybe I was for a time." Her shaking fingers suddenly gripped the table's edge. "I-I do not remember."

Reaching across, Azriel took hold of her hand, stilling hers with a gentle sweeping of his thumb across the back of her smooth skin. Why had he even asked that question? Risked her spiraling?

Because, deep down in every part of his soul, Azriel knew what his parents were. Theirs was not a love match in the slightest. No, his father used his status, his influence, to seduce a young, trusting Illyrian maiden. One with little prospects, resulting in yet another clipping of her wings.

And a son.

A burden to one. A blessing to the other.

"I hope when whatever ails the both of you gets resolved, that perhaps you shall bring her to meet me?" his mother grinned shyly. "I would like to meet the person who means a great deal to you."

"It would be my honor," he said, standing and sketching a bow.

Only hours ago, when he was spending time with his mother as a son. Now he escorted Rhysand into the antechamber of the Court of Nightmares, his shadows on full display, poised like striking serpents over the talons of his wings. The Spymaster and Shadowsinger. A nightmare manifested.

In the Hewn City, Rhysand did what he did best. Flaunted his prowess and put on a show of might, instilling a healthy dose of terror into the halls of the Court of Nightmares—and directly into Keir.