He was the spymaster, but he was no snoop.
At least, that was what Azriel told himself as he moved from shadow to shadow, winding around Velaris as easily as night itself. He knew the city was safe, knew Cassian would never let Velaris go a minute without the watch of hundreds of protectors. But on the nights when sleep too foreign an entity to understand, he roamed the city he loved.
He followed no pattern, simply abiding the whims of his shadows. The moon was nearly new tonight, and what sliver of light escaped was obscured by the clouds. They acted as he did, ebbing and flowing, drawn by something in the sky. Azriel followed the ebb and flow, alert but unconcerned. He had no plan to end up at the townhouse of his High Lord and Lady.
Rhysand and Feyre were away on business, some official duty Azriel thanked the Cauldron he had no part in. The careful words, the posturing, sometimes it was necessary to him. But the silence, the shadows, those suited him far better.
Even without their presence, the townhouse was safe.
Instead of following another shadow down or flying away, perhaps to his own room, Azriel stilled. It was quiet in the way the hours before dawn were always quiet. It was the quiet of peace.
Until he heard something in that quiet. Faint, barely there… but a sound nonetheless.
Elain?
Concealed in the shadows, he eased closer to her chambers. The sound repeated. Stifled, as though it escaped each time, came Elain's sobs.
She sat in a chair with her back to the window. So opposite all the days she'd stared outside, on a plane not even the most determined Illyrian could fly to. Her hands cradled her face, occasionally moving to muffle another sob. The air was ever so slightly salty from her tears. Her bed was untouched.
Time lost meaning quickly. It was impossible for Azriel to leave, and there was no chance of sleep for him while Elain was in this state. But to approach her? Here, now?
He stayed in the shadows until dawn, reluctantly returning home as Elain moved atop her covers and closed her eyes.
He knew she would have no more sleep than him.
Finally, once he sensed the shadows shift around him, alerting him to the presence of the two half-wraiths who served Rhysand, Azriel flew off to do whatever the Night Court needed of its spymaster.