A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 72

"Az, they're fine. They need this. Sit your butt down."

The shadowsinger stepped away from the red-tiled balcony of the House of Wind, settling on the couch with his elbow propped on the arm and chin resting on his fist. He needed something else to fixate on besides what was being exchanged out of earshot.

His shadows left without prompting, making their way to the door, but no further. It was mid-afternoon beneath the autumn Velaris skies. Too bright for them to venture. So, they huddled by the entry like children with ears pressed to the threshold.

Our Valkyrie is fine. Lady Death and Emerie of Illyria are cordial.

Good. Fine. His fingers on his free hand tapped on his thigh.

As he exhaled through his nose, he switched his attention to the low table before him, at the chessboard. Tulia sat at one end of the table, cross-legged, on the rug. Bark's head was nestled in her lap as she made her next move. That damnable hound.

Nesta and Azriel had been on the same page when it came to the smokehound. A resounding fuck no. Unsurprisingly, Gwyn and Cassian had been on the opposite side, teaming up against them. Emerie wisely stayed out of the conflict, staying as neutral as the Dawn Court.

Little Tulia had been the tiebreaker. As soon as her wide, excited blue eyes fell upon the canine, Azriel knew they were screwed. Because who could say no to that child? The sweet girl had already become part of their family.

Bark's eyes opened and tracked Azriel's stare, baring his teeth before going back to sleep. Tulia's small hand petted the smokehound's ears gently, taming and calming. One would never think such a creature was dangerous. But indeed the smokehound was not only to flesh but belongings—at least of those the dog did not like.

As predicted, the canine didn't bother with Gwyn's and Cassian's items.

Nesta's and his own property were fair game for chewing toys. But with Tulia? The hound had taken to her like a nymph to water. He suspected Gwyn was a tad ridiculously jealous. But better the mutt curled at the foot of Tulia's bed than nipping at Azriel's heels in his.

But Azriel had never known a fresher hell than when Tulia called upon the House to manifest Peggy the miniature pegasus while Bark was present. The two had chased each other around the house, leaving nothing but broken fae lights and chaos in their wake.

"Your turn," came the small feminine voice.

Cassian was scrubbing his stubbled jaw, surveying the board as a battle plan. Azriel's eyes already found three moves for him, two that would surely doom him if Tulia was paying close attention.

The little girl had proudly announced that while he was away, I had been practicing every day, Uncle Ass. Clearly, she had. She did her best to hide her reactions, but her wiggling toes gave away that she knew she was close to winning, if only—

Cassian took his turn and Tulia immediately moved hers, proclaiming, "Checkmate."

"No. No way. How the ever-loving fuc-fudge did that happen?" Those hazel eyes darted over the squares, studied the moves, and Azriel knew he was silently cursing up a storm.

"Strategy. The six-year-old beat you fair and square, Cass," Azriel said. "Well played, Tulia."

Her toothy grin, albeit missing a few, was pure elation and victory. "I won!"

The Lord of Bloodshed sighed, "You won. Good game, Tulle."

"Good game," she said, toppling and waking Bark as she scrambled up and toward Cass. Winding her small arms as much as she could around his brother. Then, without further ado, she grabbed the stuffed pegasus always at her side and called for Bark to follow her to her room.