Chapter 12

I had not seen the High Lord in five days. He remained locked away in his townhouse, busying himself. I didn't know the cause of it, nor did I ask. So when he finally returned to the House of Wind, quiet and pensive, I kept my distance. I did not even join him in his study to read, instead either reading in my own chamber or simply wandering the House or the city. I had gone to see Rav a few times, lingering about his shop whilst he worked, or wandering the streets once he had closed. It was so simple with him. A fun, simple. He spent his time trying to pry out information on the inner workings of the court. To satisfy him, and my own amusement, I offered him bits of information such as petty arguments between Mor and Cassian.

Then he asked me a question. "So, what are you doing?" Rav squinted, reassessing his question. "I mean, what's your job?"

I shrugged, still carrying a small smile. "I'm a Visionary," I answered.

"Yes, but what are you actually doing? I mean, does Rhysand have you spying on Hewn City? His greatest enemies—I hear that the High Lord of the Spring Court on his list."

Then the smile dropped. What was I doing? "Oh." It was nearing two months that I had been in Velaris and I had not been given a single order or instruction. The most official requests that came my way were to join for dinner gatherings. Was it normal? Was there simply nothing for me to do, or did he not yet see me fit to serve properly? "I just keep watch of anything the High Lord requests of me," I said. Mostly a truth; just omitting the fact that it had not yet happened.

That evening, I flew back up to the House of Wind with a harsh frowned engrained into my brows. Rhysand had been so busy with his work. Amren had left once more to Hewn city with Mor accompanying her this time as well. Cassian and Azriel were the only ones I had seen more than thrice in the past week.

I knocked on Rhysand's office door.

"Come in."

I opened the door with a soft click, peeking in before I stepped over the threshold. Rhysand leant back against his chair, two fingers supporting his head near his temple. "Annika," he greeted. "You never knock."

I entered, closing the door behind me and leaning my back against it. "I wanted to give you the chance to refuse company."

The High Lord gave a half-hearted chuckle. "I'd never refuse the company of a figment of my imagination." He gestured to the lounging seat that I usually sat in. I sunk into its comforting embrace.

"Is that something you are known to do?" I prodded, testing a smile.

He gave a lazy smile, tipping his head back to rest against the spine of his chair. "If it was the company of a woman that I desire, it is not often that I am denied. People grovel at the chance to be with power. A greedy lust." His eyes squinted, almost looking far-off and his voice trailed. He shook his head and smiled once more. "No. No, you'd I'd create for some other reason. A distraction, perhaps."

Drumming my fingers over the arm of the chair, I said, "So I am not the desire of the High Lord of the Night Court? How disappointing." I'm sure Cassian's relentless teasing and joking mannerisms had breached me. Nevertheless, it came with soft confidence that I had not felt in many years. So many, that I had even forgotten it was possible. A remnant—a shard of who I used to be.

Rhysand tipped his head forward, mirth and curiosity swarming his violet eyes. "I wasn't aware that you wished to be," he said, tone matching the violet swirls. "I did not allow myself to think of you in such a way. Had I known you were open to advances…"

He trailed off. My eyes had turned to a thread in the cushioning as he spoke, but at the silence, they shot up. A wide—truly wide born—smile lifted, my shoulders quaking with a burst of laughter that filled my lungs. Rhysand laughed with me, the sounds syncing. "I think I needed that," I admitted.

"I think I did too." He paused, a smile still splayed. "Did I tell you of the time I invited Amren to my bed?"

Shock riddled through me. "No," I spluttered, leaning forward. "How well did that go?"

Rhysand sealed his eyes shut with a single shake of his head. "Terribly. She laughed in my face." I attempted to smother my grin, but it was useless. "That was many years ago. I've been waiting for the day Cassian gets so desperate that he tries."

"Please give me a warning if he does. I'll be sure to watch the exchange." Rhysand made a gesture of silent promise. I glanced down at his desk. "I think I've distracted you from your work."

He flippantly shot a blink towards it. "Then you are doing exactly as I need you to. I haven't been able to pull myself away."

Exactly as I need you to. I wasn't though. "Can I help at all? With anything," I offered. "I don't feel like I've done anything for you."

"No," he said through an airy sigh. "Don't worry yourself." He shuffled through his belongings. "Just two things happening at once. Hewn City is getting riled about something. Mor and Amren are trying to defuse it, but tensions keep rising."

"And the other?"

"The camps. Yalhalla is getting ready for a scrimmage against another camp. We thought it would calm over time but there's no sign of it. I'll send Cassian down either tomorrow or the day after. Hopefully, he can put an end to it before it escalates."

I kept my face as flat as possible, but couldn't help a twitch at the name. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do? I can watch Yalhalla for you. I'd offer Hewn city but I've never been there and it would be hard to find through my sight."

Rhysand softly shook his head. "Annika, it's fine. I'm not sure it would do much unless you were able to watch them twenty-four hours a day."

Without hesitation, I said: "I can do that." I had done it before. Sitting alone in a cold, dank room, watching over another camp, day in, day out, waiting for a signal to pass along. I had come from it scrawny and exhausted, but if it was what I had to do to prove my worth to Rhysand, then so be it.

"You have nothing to prove to me." I thought I had spoken aloud, until I realised that he had ventured into my mind. I swallowed a thick lump at his firm tone. "You are not in one of those camps. I will not subject you to that. I brought you here to heal."

"To heal?" I had not even considered the path of healing. What would healing be to me? Healing—healing would be bringing my brother back to life. Healing would be erasing memories. Healing is a path that I never considered one that I would be able to take. One that I did not know I was supposed to be on. "What about serving you?"

"And that day may come," Rhysand said. "But I have my inner circle that are capable at their jobs. I would prefer you to be open in our company, not avoidant of touch and simple intimacies than serving me for my own purpose." I remained silent, hands poised in my lap. It was not at all what I had expected. "Annika, if I may ask… why do you not like being touched?"

"I…" Memories flashed in front of me, clear as my vision's sights. Rhysand stood from his desk, meandering around it until he crouched by the side of the chair. My throat became burning and icy at the same time, causing a croak in my voice. "When I would do something that they didn't like, when I couldn't provide them with what they needed they would lock in me in solitude for weeks. Any time that someone came near they would hurt me." I paused, swallowing a lump. "After a time, I began to associate touch with pain. I haven't been able to break free of that. I was so terrified that one day it would be my wings."

I refused to let a single watery tear fall, but they welled in my eyes. My skin tightened with ghostly pain. "You are safe," Rhysand whispered.

"And I believe you." I ran my teeth over my bottom lip. "But the habit isn't easy to break from. I'm not sure if it ever will."

The High Lord hummed in thought. "What if we went about it in a different way? You initiate any touch, have full control over where, when and for how long. You fear others reaching for you, so how about you reach for them?"

My head cocked to the side. "I hadn't thought about it in that way. There's been no one I have desired to touch since my brother."

He smiled at my muse. "The day's not at an end. If I let myself, I'm just going back to that desk to work until I collapse so, you are going to spend the next minute or so convincing me that we need to go to Rita's."

"Rita's?" I echoed, unaware of the name.

Rhysand tossed his head back. "You are so demanding," he drawled. "Fine, since you are so insistent, we shall go to Rita's. The busybodies will be thrilled."

My lips tugged in a strangely amused smile as Rhysand stood to his full height. He offered a hand to me. An invitation, I realised. I did not have to take it and there would be no repercussions, but if I desired to, I could. My choice. Slowly, I slid my hand towards him until my fingers drifted across his palm, locking around it. He gently pulled me to my feet, loosening his hold so I could easily slip my hand back to my side.

"I'll give you the pleasure of letting Cassian know. He'll start bouncing off the walls."

The prospect of spending the night with the three Illyrians (one half-blooded) seemed rather pleasant. Although it did scare me at the idea of a rowdy company, it was also amusing and something that I looked forward to. If Rhysand's description of Cassian's reaction was anything to give a hint of what Rita's was, I was sure to see some alcohol. "Should I expect you to do the same once we are there?"

He tipped his head from shoulder to shoulder. "It's on the side of likely. Depends how much they convince me to drink."

"You deserve the break," I told him. "You've been working non-stop for days."

"Unfortunately, you never get a break from being a High Lord."

"I'm sure Cassian would happily carry that mantle for you, for however long you need."

Rhysand chuckled and nodded his head. "I'm sure he would. He'll command flattery every time you grace his presence. Demand weekly worshipping. The people will rejoice once I take it back."

My shoulders racked with laughter, but they simmered. "They already are." Rhysand pinched his brows in a mild show of confusion. "The people of Velaris love you. I cannot say much for Hewn City or the camps, but I've been down there quite a bit. Your name is sung in praise."

He tipped his head forward in a soft bow. "And it is an honour."

We turned towards the door, but I paused and pinched his sleeve. Rhysand turned with ease. "You have asked me a personal question, so I think that it is only fair that I ask one of you."

"Ask away," he offered, lifting his chin.

"You say that you brought me here to heal." I probed. "Amren asked you why you had brought me here, suggesting that it was because of my power, but you completely dismissed it. I can understand if that was your reason, but you are saying that it is not. So if not that, then why? Why me? Why not the other women and men that have suffered?"

Rhysand blinked slowly, glancing towards the door. "Because I was asked to," he said eventually. "I think I would have either way, but before I was even able to think of the idea… I was asked to."

Before I could ask by whom, Rhysand strode out the office door, leaving it open for me to follow. Asked? It didn't make sense. I had no one in the camps that would ask that on my behalf. Cassian and Azriel were his only companions, but they did not even know of me until just moments before Rhysand took me from Devlon's grasp. I remember the day as clear as the night sky.

I forced myself to break from those thoughts, shaking my head. I dashed from Rhysand's office, headed towards Cassian's chamber to deliver the riveting news.