A Court of Shadows and Chaos (Azriel fanfic)

Chapter 4

Lyla's pov

The door shut with a light click behind me. In the silence of my apartment, it tolled like a bell. The man seated inside jolted, his knee slamming against my desk as he swivelled to face me.

I recognised him from the numerous times I had accompanied Feyre into the forest to collect wood while she hunted. I remembered how he had eyed the brace of rabbits Feyre was sporting.

I had let him linger in here alone because I wanted him to wallow in the hush that came before the storm that was out for his blood. After all, I dedicated this particular apartment for more... repugnant discussions.

"I have been waiting for half an hour." He stated the fucking obvious like I could not tell time.

"Have you?" I gave no shits about how long he had to wait. Tomas Mandray was a spineless twat. He would wait two hours if I wanted him to. "Apologies."

I strode to my desk and took the seat opposite him. With the black tunic and trousers I had adjourned along with the hood that concealed most of my face, there was no way he would recognise me. Good, because for now I was not Lyla Archeron but someone far deadlier.

Silence descended again as I examined him. My tranquil stare swept from his brown hair to his adherent blue shirt. His ragged coat stretched a little too tight across his shoulders, and a sheen of sweat dotted his forehead.

"Do you know why I asked for this meeting?" I asked casually.

"No. Your man did not say." Tomas's eyes bounced around. I'd had one of the trainees bring him in, and I would've chortled at his obvious unease if I had an ounce of amusement left inside me. "I assume it has to do with my family business." His chest puffed up a little.

"Your business." I deadpanned. It was nothing more than a sorry scheme of twigs. Though I suppose if he thought a sweet old lady who owned an inn on the outskirts of town wanted to see him, that's what he would think.

He deflated. "Yes. I...I assumed you wished to talk business. Offer me a deal."

This time, I did laugh, though the sound lacked any warmth. I would not waste a single penny for Tomas Brady, even if The Mother herself commanded me to.

"No. That's not why I wished to see you." I pulled open my desk drawer. "I heard you are an admirer of wine." My spies had informed me how he wasted all that he earned, which was not much, to begin with on more alcohol than his puny mortal body could tolerate. Completely disregarding his starving wife and children.

Surprise zipped across his face, followed by confusion. "Yes..."

"I'm an admirer myself." I retrieved a unique raven box with intricate gold lettering scrawled on it.

"Lóthurr, a diluted version of the famous fae wine," I drawled with a smile. "Cost me quite some money." I owned far more lavish wine than this but I would never waste it on a pitiful sap like Mandray. "Would you like some?" I asked politely.

At Tomas's keen nod, who was practically drooling, I opened the bottle and filled the two crystal glasses perched on my desk. My lip curled with contempt when Tomas pounced on it before I finished pouring the second.

No manners. Only The Mother knew what Nesta had seen in him.

"I did have one question," I said before the glass reached his lips. "When you tried to rape my sister my sister in the alleyway, did you succeed?"

He stilled. All the colour drained from his skin. "What—I—"

"My sister." I leaned towards him as I pulled back the hood and dumped my coat beside my chair. I remained seated in only a sleeveless black shirt and matching pants. "Oh, come now, don't tell me you forgot the girl you proposed to."