A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ Forgiving ☆

It seemed just about everyone had to depart to grab their gifts for Elain. Eblis merely sidled up to her brother as he began to walk away as well. He sent a warm violet gaze down to her. With a wave of his hand, as if knowing what it was she wanted, the wrapped flower brooch landed in her hands. She blinked and smiled up at him.

“I’m sorry I have been too busy to spend time with you,” he said. Her smile faltered, but she plastered it back on, brushing her hair out of her eye.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied comfortingly. “Azriel has been great company.” Almost too great of a company, but she pushed the thought away before he could see it in her eyes. He only laughed, the sound rich and heart-warming, as she unintentionally followed him all the way to his and Feyre’s bedroom. She paused on the threshold, suddenly embarrassed. 

The room was lavish and wide, one wall almost entirely consumed by windows framed with beautiful dark curtains. It splashed light along the otherwise midnight furniture, their large bed big enough for three Illyrians to sleep with their wings relaxed, the frame carved with suns and starry skies. A diaphanous fabric draped across it, hiding the majority of the bed from view. Her eyes caught on a dresser, one with three drawers all painted with different patterns. One was of flames, one of flowers, and one of a night sky. The sisters, she thought, studying the beautiful work.

“Feyre did it,” Rhysand said, following her gaze. He opened a closet and pulled out a wrapped box. “She mirrored it after a piece of furniture she had in her old house.” 

“The one before or after Tamlin?” she asked, stepping closer to the paint work. It was gorgeous and delicate and yet sharp and powerful. It depicted each of them masterfully without even painting a face.

Rhysand’s voice startled her as it came from right behind her. “So she told you?”

“Yes.” Feyre had told her her whole story, painstaking part for painstaking part. Of course some stuff had been left out, she could tell, but it was still enough for her to understand the female a whole lot better. Her and the other sisters. “I’m very glad you found her, Rhysand,” she said.

She turned to Rhysand, finding his eyes swarmed with emotion. Her own eyes almost burned at the sight. “You deserve her, and she deserves you. You have created a beautiful family since I’ve been gone.” And there it was; the hint of guilt in his violet gaze. She shuddered, feeling as if she’d been punched in the gut. “I don’t blame you for moving on, Rhysand, if that is why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Because he had. She knew that was what it was—that he felt guilty for letting her and her mother go, for not doing more after their death even if there was nothing else he could do. Even after five centuries, she understood her brother impeccably well. It doesn’t always have to be your fault, she whispered to him, in her mind. She didn’t expect him to hear, for some reason forgetting being daemati, but he nodded, eyes clenched shut.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. It was enough to make her realize she never wanted to see her brother this way again. Ever. 

She swallowed hard. “Let’s join the others before they become suspicious that I’ve killed you,” she said, and a soft laugh raked out of her brother.

“Amren does seem to have it out for you,” he replied after a moment of breath. He drew himself tall and offered her a dazzling, warm smile. She returned it, putting all her emotions into one expression. Everything; except for the guilt.

He led her from the room and back to the study they’d originally met in. She brushed a comforting hand against her brother’s before settling into a seat next to Azriel. In his lap, a strangely oblong wrapped gift also waited, and he glanced at hers curiously.