Eris paced around the room impatiently. Celosia was purposefully making him wait. That was the only explanation he could think of. He gritted his teeth in frustration.
By the Mother, I've already apologized to Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel for making them wait on me so many times, he thought. I've learned my lesson.
It didn't help that his instincts were telling him to go home. He was doing his best to stifle them, but it wasn't working. They kept rising up with loud demands. Go home. Make sure she's safe. Go home. Don't leave her again. Go home. Go back to her. Go home.
Eris stamped his instincts down again. He'd never felt anything like them before and he didn't want to think about what it could mean. Not yet. He'd only known her for two months. Eris rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He felt like he'd known her far longer, though. He knew her better than he knew himself, just like she knew him.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door flew open, revealing Celosia. "How is the assassin today?" She asked, dropping into a chair.
"Evren," Eris snapped, "is recovering quickly now."
"Good. Maybe you'll stop being so irritable then." Celosia picked at her nails. "I don't see why you're so upset by this. You turned away everyone who tried to visit, me included!"
"I am upset by this because she almost died. She was hallucinating and dreaming of terrible things. She kept waking up screaming and crying. There were times when she hardly recognized me! The last person I wanted to see was you. I couldn't pull myself away from her for longer than ten minutes!"
"That sounds like a bit of an obsession to me, and not a healthy one," Celosia remarked.
Eris snarled and braced his hands on the arms of her chair. "What were you doing with a poisoned dagger, Celosia?"
"I swiped it from the assassin," she said. To her credit, her voice didn't shake. "When you and Evren attacked him, I stole the dagger. I didn't know it was poisoned."
"Do you know who the assassin was?"
"Of course not. I know as much as you. He's male. I couldn't distinguish his scent. I think he might have hidden it, perhaps the same way Evren hides hers."
Eris didn't like the look in her eye. "If you're insinuating that Evren knows the assassin, you're wrong. Besides, if she had hired him, he wouldn't have used her as a shield when you attacked him."
"Unless she told him to."
"Why would she do that?"
"She's an assassin," Celosia muttered. "She could probably make a large profit off either of us."
"Not if she's dead before she can claim the reward. Why are you so eager to pin this attack on her?"
"I'm not. I'm just trying to think of all the possible suspects."
Eris drew back. "Evren is not a suspect. You, on the other hand, are. I suggest you consider helping me find this assassin if you don't want to be imprisoned in his place."
"You wouldn't." Celosia narrowed her eyes.
"You were the one holding the dagger, no matter where you got it. You were the one who stabbed Evren. If she had died, you would be the one to blame." Eris glared at her, feeding fire into his amber gaze. "And I find myself unwilling to forgive you for putting her through the terror of the past week."
He spun on his heel and stormed out the door. He didn't leave the house. Instead, he returned to the hallway they had been attacked in. The broken glass had already been cleaned up and new windows were being put in place.
Eris knelt beside the window the assassin had come through. It was already fixed. He ran his fingers along the seam between the wall and the floor. Shards of glass still lingered there. He picked up one tiny sliver and examined it.
This wasn't broken by magic or an object, he thought. Every window in this hallway broke. He closed his eyes, thinking. And there was that shrill whine I heard. The assassin used sound to shatter the windows all at once. That's a little unusual. Most assassins prefer quiet entries. This one wanted us to know he was coming. He wanted us distracted, but why? How did he get past the wards? And which of us was his target?
Eris' thoughts spun as he stood. He left the hallway. Celosia still stood in the other room. He ignored her and left the house. Finding the assassin would have to wait a few more days while he sorted out what he knew. Right now, he needed to get home. Eris winnowed as soon as he was past the protective wards.
•~ ❘ ۞ ❘ ~•
Evren sat at the piano, sipping a cup of tea. The healer had allowed her to get up after an afternoon of pestering and a promise to take things slow. Eris still hadn't returned.
She flipped through the pages of the songbook and chose an old tune she was familiar with. Evren set her tea aside and began to play. Her fingers felt clumsy and weak, and she played slow. She kept at it though, relishing the soft notes the piano created.
"Brin let you get up already?"
She twisted, hearing Eris' voice in the doorway. "I bothered her consistently until she let me get up."
"Of course." He entered the room and sat down beside her.
"Where have you been?"
"Speaking with Celosia. I'm trying to figure out who the assassin was and which of us he was targeting." Eris pursed his lips. "Celosia and I couldn't scent him. Celosia thinks he hid his scent like you do."
"I use small crystals mixed with water to treat my clothes. The crystals create a chemical reaction that removes scents from clothing and make them unable to retain new scents for several days. The crystals are easily accessible in the Mortal Lands."
"So the assassin might be Human?"
Evren nodded. "Or he might know a Human who gave the crystals to him."
Eris glanced at her. "Could it have been Cadoc?"
She stiffened. "Cadoc rarely takes assignments in the courts these days. If it was him, someone would have been paying him an excessive amount of money." Another thought occurred to her. "And the assassin might not be alive."
"Why?"
"I stabbed him in the armpit. I don't know if I hit an artery, but I know I punctured his lung. My daggers are long enough."
Eris narrowed his eyes. "I'll have scouts searching in case a body shows up."
Evren inclined her head, then took one of his hands. She examined the healing wounds on his wrist. "You should have Brin heal these."
"I would have to explain where they came from then," Eris said. He was completely still as she ran her fingers over his palm.
"Why do you do that?" She asked.
"Do what?"
"Stay perfectly still when I touch you."
"I'm afraid that if I move, you'll stop. People so rarely touch me, and when they do, it's not gentle or...affectionate." She met his gaze and saw nothing but truth written across his features. "I don't want to make you feel threatened. I don't want you to stop."
"For someone who has a reputation for cruelty and inconsideration, you're not very cruel or inconsiderate," Evren said.
Eris chuckled and she kissed his wrist. "Only a few people get to see this side of me. I'm learning to let it show more often."
"I like it." Evren released his hand and drank more of her tea. Eris rested his fingers on the piano keys. He began to play through the song she'd left the page on. "You've been practicing."
"I practice the piano more than you practice dancing."
"I don't think my legs would hold me up long enough to practice today."
Eris' eyes left the book and fell to her legs. She was still wearing the shorts she'd woken up in. Evren swallowed, then crossed her legs and tilted them towards him. Eris inhaled sharply and looked back at the book. The tips of his pointed ears were red.
Evren turned her face away as heat rushed to her cheeks. Why had she done that? No, that wasn't the right question. Why had she wanted to do that? Why had she wanted to know what Eris' reaction would be, and why did she like the one she'd received?
Cadoc had never looked at her legs. In fact, he never looked at her past the parts he wanted. He had never blushed for her. She had never blushed for him. She'd never felt admired by him.
"I'm sorry," Eris murmured. His fingers continued to roam over the piano keys.
"It's all right." Evren looked back at him. The red in his ears had spread to his cheeks. This 542 year old High Fae, no, High Lord, was blushing because of her legs. Evren cleared her throat. "In fact, I think it might be good to let...males...look at me. It might help me learn not to feel threatened by every male that looks my way. And as I said yesterday, I feel safe. Here." His eyes flickered to hers. "With you."
"Most people don't associate me or this house with the word safe," Eris said. His hands fell still on the piano.
"I'm not most people." Evren folded her hands in her lap. "I am feeling embarrassed, nervous, confused, excited, and safe." She liked this method of listing her emotions. She liked feeling them. She liked being able to feel again.
"I am feeling...flustered, confused, excited, nervous, angry, and grateful."
"Angry?"
Eris nodded. "Angry at Celosia. Angry at the assassin. Angry at myself."
"Still?"
"I will be angry with myself for a long time," Eris said.
Evren lifted one of his hands again. "Just so long as you don't take your anger out on yourself." She traced her fingers over the wounds on his wrist. "Not again. Not for me."
"I like this side of you."
"What side?"
Eris smiled. "The side who allows herself to care. The side who lets herself feel."
"Like calls to like," she said.
Eris stayed perfectly still while she traced his scars and his palm. He closed his eyes briefly. She spread her fingers over his. His hand was much larger than hers. Her heart raced as she fitted her fingers in between his. Eris didn't open his eyes. She folded her fingers down. He followed suit.
Evren studied their laced fingers, hardly daring to breathe. No one had held her hand since her parents died. Evren glanced at Eris' face. His eyes were still closed, but his throat bobbed and his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, as though he were trying not to cry.
She wondered how long it had been since someone held his hand. Since someone showed him that they cared for him. Since someone saw past the monster he pretended to be, the monster he believed he was. Longer than it had been for her, she didn't doubt. Evren squeezed the High Lord's hand, and he gripped hers as though he were sinking and she was the one thing holding him up.