A Court of Darkness and Melodies

Chapter 13

Gwyn's POV

Gwyn followed Nesta and Mor, glad their bickering had finally come to a stop. As soon as Nesta had cried out, "I don't have a gown so help me out!", Mor had gaped so widely that Gwyn hadn't even known it was possible to open one's mouth so much.

Then Mor had noticed Gwyn and had shrieked, "You don't have a gown either?!" Gwyn had just shook her head, dumbfounded by Mor's panic into silence.

Then Mor had grabbed both of their hands and winnowed into shadows without any warning. She had been encompassed in shadows and darkness for a few moments, which had weirdly reminded her of Azriel, before they had appeared in a hallway made of stone with torches lighting their way. 

Gwyn had tried and succeeded in not thinking about the unfeeling and cool face Azriel had looked at her with while Mor and Nesta were bickering, but as they walked through the dark hallway with no noise but their footsteps' echoes, Gwyn couldn't help it.

Had he been about to kiss her?!

Had Azriel, Shadowsinger, Spymaster of the Night Court, almost kissed her?

He deserved so much more than someone like her.

But she couldn't help the regret that was eating her at how Azriel's face had closed off when she had looked away.

Azriel had seemed lighter than he was in days today.

And she had ruined that by moving away.

Gwyn stumbled over a rock and crashed into Nesta's back where she and Mor had stopped. "Sorry." She mumbled, moving to stand by her, and Nesta glanced at her, giving her a small smile. 

"We're here." Mor murmured, and a black key appeared in her hand.

"Where are we, exactly?" Gwyn inquired, and her question was answered when the door swung open.

Gwyn and Nesta's mouths fell open in shock as they tried to comprehend what they were seeing.

"Welcome to my closet." Mor said, a pleased smirk on her face.

******

Mor's closet was a dream.

Gwyn could not get over her amazement at how many dresses Mor had. The room was as big as the hall in which Gwyn had her service every Friday and every inch of the room was filled with racks and piles of clothes.

There were so many clothes.

Gowns and dresses, pants and shirts, leggings and skirts, everything.

Mor snapped her fingers, bringing Nesta and Gwyn to attention.

"Now listen." She started. "I have never in my life given anyone a gown of mine-"

"Yes, yes, we got that, we'll take care of them." Nesta blurted. "Can we get to the choosing now?"

Mor  glanced at Gwyn and rolled her eyes. But Gwyn could see the twinkle in them, her excitement of having someone whose appearance she could fret over.

"The gowns are over there." She pointed, and they made their way to the left side of the room. About a hundred gowns hung on the rack here and Nesta gawked at them as her hands flew over each one. "How do you even have so many?!"

"Live for over five hundred years and then ask." She said, and then the gown hunting began. 

Mor and Nesta went one way, Nesta convincing Mor to go with her by saying that it was her mating ceremony and she was the one who needed help in choosing the most perfect gown.