𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Arwen had waved to Mor and Rhys who returned home moments before she left for Rita's. Cassian immediately pointed at her and accused her of sneaking off. Arwen smiled and told her brother she would be in town, needing a break from them. A vigorous gasp came from the warrior at Rhysand's smile and request to stay safe, not even a question of where she would be. Mor only scented at her new perfume, asking to borrow it another time. Cassian had then attempted to follow her out the door, insisting that he came along as he would be the life of whatever she was going to. Feigning forgetting something, she turned back around. He remained right at her shoulder, barely missing stepping on her heels but she managed to pass a look to Azriel who slipped into action and distracted him as she pretended to get something from upstairs. Then bolted.

Wrinkling her nose at the still storming sky, she opened her parasol, heels clicking along the stone street. Winnowing was now a potential transportation, but there was a bundle of nerves for the night ahead that Arwen wasn't confident it wouldn't rattle her off course. Rhysand promised her that they would go through training together, but he had been occupied for some time now and she didn't bother him when he did have the time to relax.

Lowering and shaking the parasol off as Arwen entered Rita's, she was met with a wave of warmth that came from the bodies packed inside. The weather turned more people inside to enjoy their night. Dancers paraded themselves in front of the musicians and others lingered in their seats. Hanging the parasol on a walled hook, she ran a hand through her hair to tame what the wind had dishevelled.

Arwen waved at Rita, then stumbled back as two fae too engrossed in each other to notice anything else crossed her path. Laughing it off, she searched the crowds for the baker. He was sitting near the bar, alone but chatting with a server with a drink already in hand, the other still bandaged. Instead of the white apron with stains and singes, he donned a beige tunic tucked into brown trousers of fitted make. Simple, but handsome.

Alone. She reminded herself that. She was here to meet another male alone.

Had it been actual interest in him that brought her here, or just that he seemed friendly that she didn't want to turn down the invitation? The latter wasn't a terrible reason—Arwen obviously wanted to be there.

A casual glance around had him seeing her on approach, brows and a smile raising. "Arwen," he greeted as she approached. It struck her that it was the first time he had said her name. "Let me buy you something to drink." He gestured to the server who waited.

"My mother always told me never to let a stranger buy you a drink and mothers are always right," she said, leaning her side against the table separating her and the inside of the bar area. The baker paused, taking a moment to mull over her suggestion.

He smiled. "Prius, my name is Prius. I've been waiting here a while, I'll have you know."

Arwen took the seat next to him and gave her favourite drink to the server. "I don't remember you giving me a time to arrive at. And I never promised to come at all. You might have been waiting here alone for the entire night had I decided not to."

"But you did," he pointed out. He sat facing her, elbow braced on the bench and had what seemed to be a permanent, boyish grin.

Arwen laughed and nodded to concede that she had indeed come to meet a stranger that she met that same day. "You're lucky that I managed to come alone. You might be in a meeting with Cassian if I hadn't gotten him off my back. He didn't like the idea of being left at home while I went into town."

Prius licked his lips, tipping his glass to peer inside of it. "Can't say the idea of being interrogated by the General Commander doesn't terrify me. Does he know that you're meeting me?"