𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Arwen wrinkled her nose at the morose gloom of Windhaven. It had been many years since she deigned to step foot in such a place, and if it wasn't for the three Illyrians next to her, she wouldn't dare. From neck to toes she was clad in her leathers. A sword was strapped to her back, albeit the length far more suited to her stature compared to Cassian's great sword holstered in the same manner.

She observed the camp as they strode through it towards Rhysand's small cabin. Delvon was aware of their arrival, the letter sent a week prior, but not of their true intention.

Rhysand and Cassian had been deliberating ways of bringing the females into training for months now. Years, really. It had never been done before in Illyria's history and considering their kind's history, it wouldn't be a pulled-off in a day. Illyrians and Fae alike still tested her brother's reign but now he finally had his claws deep enough into his court to begin this endeavour. And Arwen was finally ready.

They needed to plant the idea in the females' minds first—show them that they were capable of training. She would be the demonstration; the test and the stick to poke the males with to see how they would react. How Rhysand should prepare when he brings in the official laws.

"Can't say I missed this place," she muttered. Cassian grunted on her right.

"I believe this is where you cut Cassian's hair off once," Rhysand remarked on her other side, his light tone still serrated with caution as they weaved around the other Illyrians. They stared; some scowled or growled snide comments.

Arwen's lips tilted up at the memory he showed her. She had been curious, at her young age, whether letter openers were capable of cutting through more than envelopes. Her hypothesis was proven right.

"I was wondering why I had a sudden aversion standing next to you," Cassian groused but a scant glance in his direction was met with a shadow of a smile meant only for her.

On Cassian's far side, Azriel silently prowled alongside them, armed to the tooth and his siphons gleaming in warning. All seven on them. Arwen spied him for a few more steps but he was too occupied with studying every inch of the camp, shadows swirling around his arms, to notice.

They hadn't spoken of their shared moment, but it hadn't worried her. They both hadn't a chance to sit alone. He had been called back to Hewn City, then he visited the Spring Court and Autumn Court to investigate the extent of their tempestuous relationship. At her own request he hunted down Ianthe's location, who appeared to have remained in the Spring Court.

Arwen concluded that he needed the time that these tasks gave him, in any case. Azriel needed the space and seclusion to unravel his thoughts in the same way that she relied on company.

Her pace quickened at the sight of the warded cabin, the handle unlatching at her touch. She kicked the snow off her boots and slipped inside. She didn't miss this place either. "Mother's fucking tits it's cold."

"Language," Rhysand drawled as he trailed in behind her.

Arwen shrugged. "Cassian says it."

Cassian held his hands in surrender. "I withheld all foul language until she was twenty. After that I'm not responsible for what comes out of her mouth. Besides, you're an idiot if you think that's the worse thing she'll hear here."

Rhysand scowled as he waved through the air, their packs appearing. "Don't remind me. Delvon has some... Issues he'd like to raise with me. I suspect I'll be gone for most of the evening."

Arwen held her arms, her lips shaking with an extended breath. Azriel, still silent as ever, took a gentle hold of her elbow and guided her a few feet across the room. The fireplace she had her back turned to had been struck alight with magic. "Thanks."