𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Arwen held Azriel's present close, slipping out of her room. The halls were dim, lit by only a single wall candle. She had hoped that he was still downstairs, but her fortune had gone thin for when she knocked on the door, he answered.

Azriel looked at her, still dressed in the night clothes he had been in all day. Then those striking eyes moved to her hands. "I... Rhysand forgot to add it to the pile," she lied. "I didn't realise it was still in my room."

His brows twitched, but a gentle smile tugged on his lips as he opened the door wider. "Thank you," he said, taking it once she held it out. He gestured for her to move inside. "I still have yours."

Azriel glided across the small room, between the two beds and placed her present on what she assumed was his. On the nightstand next to it, a box sat, wrapped with beautiful precision. He took it, leaning across the bed that she stood on the other side of to hand it to her. "It needs instruction which is why I kept it." Arwen couldn't feel anything specific from holding it other than whatever it was, was solid. Azriel tilted his head. "Are you alright, Arwen? You weren't yourself tonight."

"Overwhelmed," she replied breathlessly. "Thank you. Should I open it now?"

He smiled. "Unless you have daemati abilities coming through, I'd rather not explain through the walls." There was the quick-witted, dry humour that she so enjoyed from him.

She coughed a laugh and shook her head. "I have enough going on without a new power showing up." 

Arwen sat on the edge of his bed and pulled gently at the wrappings, almost disappointed to ruin it. It revealed a solid grey box inside just slightly longer and wider than her hand. Lifting the lid off revealed two things inside. The first she saw was a quill, the tip a stunning silver. The feather was long and white, reminding her of the soft clouds that marked the skies in summer. She ran her fingers across it, barely feeling anything even though the soft ripple proved she touched it.

Arwen placed it aside and pulled out the second item. It was a glass bottle, rounded with a thin and short neck with a cork stopper. Inside, the liquid was as clear as water. "I assume this is where the explanation comes in," she said.

Azriel gave a slight smile. His eyes ran over her, his hand rising only to hesitate half-way before ultimately lifting. His fingers combed through her hair. Blinking, Arwen remained still as he gently pulled a loose strand of her raven hair free and gave a nod towards the bottle. She obliged the unspoken instruction and pulled the stopper free. He threaded her hair through the neck and into the liquid.

Almost instantly the liquid reacted and like someone had poured ink into it, darkening before her eyes to a shimmering shade blue-black. The exact shade of her hair. Arwen brought it to her face, swishing the liquid around.

"I know you don't like working with paints," Azriel said. "But you used to sketch with ink sometimes. It's enchanted. It will take on the colour of anything it touches. The quill... The quill was just pretty and I thought you would like it. You've always had a taste for pretty things."

That much was true. There was little to say that would match what she felt in her heart, so she settled on, "Thank you. I love it."

"May I open yours now?

Arwen looked to the other side of his legs where her present rested. She had worked up the scenario in her mind of tossing it at him then running, but her feet felt like lead. "If I said no, how long would you wait?" she asked.

He chuckled and picked it up. Unlike his, her gift to him was soft, flopping slightly as he held it. He peeled away the wrapping which was nowhere near as perfect as his, revealing the leather binding underneath. Azriel held the portfolio, flipping it open to the sheet music inside. Hundreds of them.