A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ Forgiving ☆

“I’ll only tell you if you tell me,” she joked, sending a look to his present for Elain. Humour danced in his hazel eyes as he shook his head, yet a shadow twirled around her hand and inspected the present. Azriel’s scent wrapped around her pleasantly as she swatted the thing away with a laugh. “Cheater.”

He shrugged with a smile, turning to watch as Elain entered the room. 

She’d changed into a gown, one of soft violet and gold. Her hair had been let down from their braids so it draped along her shoulders in soft, heat-fizzed waves. Still beautiful, Eblis thought, and offered Elain a smile.

She returned it, gaze going to the male at her side. Something shone in her gaze, enough to make Eblis sit forward in her seat a little more even as Azriel gave her a curious glance. Jealousy. Elain...she liked Azriel. Cared for him. 

But did he…?

    She studied him for a moment before his shadow touched against the ones that had gathered along her neck in question. Eblis bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head in answer. No. Azriel had already said he...that he loved her. However calming the thought was, she realized she had also pushed him away afterwards and forced friendliness between them—though she’d failed miserably at doing so. She took a very deep breath and pushed it away. Now was not the time. 

Elain settled into a chair as everyone joined them once more, gifts in their hands. The female blushed prettily, ears turning bright pink as the room filled, even the wraiths entering with food and wine and their own presents. It was a rushed gathering, tinged with the panic of a war on the horizon, but they all offered the female her own little piece of calm amidst the storm. 

She wondered what part Elain would play; what part she would play. She was no warrior or Spymaster—nor did she have any special magical abilities besides her small bite of night and a sweeping mass of shadows, which she’d only had her time with Azriel to practice in. Eblis would be but an informant of Hybern’s secrets, which she knew so little of to give them. All she wanted to be happy was for her Princess Madalyn to be on the throne of Hybern. Once that happened, everything would settle, and she could let loose a little.

Be free.

She just needed a little more time.

“Happy birthday, Elain!” Mor said, and a loud pop echoed that sent Eblis startling from her thoughts. Rhysand hissed and swept forward as fizzy liquor made to spill onto the rug, his hands summoning a towel to catch it before it actually did. Despite his small warning, he laughed along with his cousin as Cassian proffered glasses. Cerridwen opened a wine bottle and offered it around as well. 

To Eblis—and, surprisingly, to Nesta—they were given flavored water to drink. Amren’s teeth were soon stained blood red with wine as they settled down to eat around a center table that had appeared from nowhere it seemed. A cloth draped along the wooden space, several bunches of food that the wraiths had somehow made settling along its length, the aromas heavenly in her nose.

Feyre laughed, the sound a tinkling softness that made Rhysand at her side smile. “I know this was rushed, but I do hope it is enough, Elain,” she said.

Elain blushed. “Of course. This is more than I could’ve ever asked for given the circumstances.”

“Well,” Amren huffed, “I see now that Illyrians really are having a lazy streak.” It seemed the whole table turned to her with a look of disbelief. The female gave a serpentine smile. “First with the sparring in front of the Townhouse, and now with the dinner in the library? If I didn’t see your hulking wings, I would almost think you incapable of movement.”