A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 44: Bunny

The cellar was a dimly lit room below the kitchen with a few tapped barrels along one wall, racks of wine along the other two. "More of a sweet tooth, aren't you?" Cassian asked, inspecting a row. He picked one out and read the label, putting it atop an upright barrel and continuing his search. "Red?"

Crossing her arms loosely over her womb, she said, "Didn't realise you paid so much attention to my drinking habits." He was right, after all. Cassian shot her a wink over his shoulder. "Suppose I should be flattered. The marvellous General Commander of the Night Court armies paying enough attention to me to remember my favoured drinks. Why, the flattery is making me blush."

He snorted. "That type of flattery makes me think you want something."

Placing the back of her hand to her forehead, she swayed, draping herself against a post where the lantern hung. "You do not look at me the way I look at you. I have hidden my affections for too long, they are just bursting out of me."

Handing her a bottle, he wrinkled his nose and said, "Sorry, sweetheart. You're not really my type." He laughed at the offence that wrought her features and tapped the cork of his bottle against her chest. "I don't go after people who have mates. Especially when that mate is my brother's."

"I think Rhys is the jealous type," she said, failing to hide her smile. Twisting the bottle around, she read the label, a faint memory of recognition flowing through her. She should probably bring something for Rhys and the others up as well.

Cassian though, sighed and leant against the sturdy corner of a rack. "Rhys told me about what Amren found. What you are."

Eyes dropping to the floor, she said, "Honestly, I'm trying to pretend I never heard about them. I don't like...Feeling so different from everybody else."

"You know, both Rhys and Az can share the sentiment," he said. "Rhys is a half-bred—as vulgar as the term is. Illyrians don't like that he has High Fae blood, High Fae don't like that he's got Illyrian in him. He's been battling that his whole life. And Az..." He loosed a long sigh. "He feels as much a part of Illyria as you do." Not at all, was the answer to that. "Worst part is, is that he is one. Every piece of him is Illyrian but he hates it."

Cocking her head, Galadriel studied him, considering what he'd just revealed to her. She didn't know much of anything about Azriel's past. Even now, after six months of living in the same space. Rhys had told her about his childhood—stories about his mother and sister. Sometimes his father, but not as often.

"It's not exactly a beautiful image, is it?" she asked quietly, jutting her jaw. "A Reaper."

"It doesn't taint your beauty," he asserted in that gentle voice of his, only found in this sort of quietness. "Inside or out. If you're worried about what we'll think about you, just remember that Rhys's Second is Amren. If she can't scare us off, you're basically a bunny."

She arched a brow. "A bunny?"

That smile widened. "A fluffy one. Like Mor—who's definitely a dog. Azriel, I've decided is an owl."

Galadriel threw her head back and laughed. "How'd you come to that conclusion?"

He waved a hand. "Don't question me. I'm a bear—obviously. Rhys is a serpent."

"Oh, great. I'm a bunny who has a serpent for a mate. Looks like I'll have a dark, miserable, and probably very short existence."

"No, no. No." Cassian waved the wine around, shaking his head. "He's a serpent, not a snake. Bunnies wouldn't be enough to feed him." Galadriel wasn't aware there was a difference. "Which probably doesn't make it sound all that better but trust me—" he tapped his temple "—I have it all worked out."