I turned back to my plate, but found Rhysand’s eyes on me. His face was softer, more contemplative than I’d ever seen it, his mouth slightly open.
I lifted my brows. What?
He gave me a cocky grin and leaned in to hear the story Mor was telling about—
I forgot what she was talking about as the owner emerged with a metal goblet full of dark liquid and placed it before Amren.
Rhys’s Second hadn’t touched her plate, but pushed the food around like she might actually be trying to be polite. When she saw the goblet laid before her, she flicked her brows up. “You didn’t have to do that.”
The owner shrugged her slim shoulders. “It’s fresh and hot, and we needed the beast for tomorrow’s roast, anyway.”
I had a horrible feeling I knew what was inside.
Amren swirled the goblet, the dark liquid lapping at the sides like wine, then sipped from it. “You spiced it nicely.” Blood gleamed on her teeth.
The owner bowed. “No one leaves my place hungry,” she said before walking away.
Indeed, I almost asked Mor to roll me out of the restaurant by the time we were done and Rhys had paid the tab, despite the owner’s protests. My muscles were barking thanks to my earlier training in the mortal forest, and at some point during the meal, every part of me I’d used while tackling Rhys into the snow had started to ache.
Mor rubbed her stomach in lazy circles as we paused beside the river. “I want to go dancing. I won’t be able to fall asleep when I’m this full. Rita’s is right up the street.”
Dancing. My body groaned in protest and I glanced about for an ally to shoot down this ridiculous idea.
But Azriel—Azriel said, his eyes wholly on Mor, “I’m in.”
“Of course you are,” Cassian grumbled, frowning at him. “Don’t you have to be off at dawn?”
Mor’s frown now mirrored Cassian’s—as if she realized where and what he’d be doing tomorrow. She said to Azriel, “We don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Azriel said, holding her gaze long enough that Mor dropped it, twisted toward Cassian, and said, “Will you deign to join us, or do you have plans to ogle your muscles in the mirror?”
Cassian snorted, looping his elbow through hers and leading her up the street. “I’ll go—for the drinks, you ass. No dancing.”
“Thank the Mother. You nearly shattered my foot the last time you tried.”
It was an effort not to stare at Azriel as he watched them head up the steep street, arm in arm and bickering with every step. The shadows gathered around his shoulders, like they were indeed whispering to him, shielding him, perhaps. His broad chest expanded with a deep breath that sent them skittering, and then he set into an easy, graceful stroll after them. If Azriel was going with them, then any excuse I might make not to—
I turned pleading eyes to Amren, but she’d vanished.
“She’s getting more blood in the back to take home with her,” Rhys said in my ear, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. His chuckle was warm against my neck. “And then she’ll be going right to her apartment to gorge herself.”
I tried not to shudder as I faced him. “Why blood?”
“It doesn’t seem polite to ask.”
I frowned up at him. “Are you going dancing?”
He peered over my shoulder at his friends, who had almost scaled the steep street, some people pausing to greet them. “I’d rather walk home,” Rhys said at last. “It’s been a long day.”
Mor turned back at the top of the hill, her purple clothes floating around her in the winter wind, and raised a dark gold brow. Rhys shook his head, and she waved, followed by short waves from Azriel and Cassian, who’d dropped back to talk with his brother-in-arms.
Rhys gestured forward. “Shall we? Or are you too cold?”
Consuming blood with Amren in the back of the restaurant sounded more appealing, but I shook my head and fell into step beside him as we walked along the river toward the bridge.
I drank in the city as greedily as Amren had gobbled down the spiced blood, and I almost stumbled as I spied the glimmer of color across the water.
The Rainbow of Velaris glowed like a fistful of jewels, as if the paint they used on their houses came alive in the moonlight.
“This is my favorite view in the city,” Rhys said, stopping at the metal railing along the river walkway and gazing toward the artists’ quarter. “It was my sister’s favorite, too. My father used to have to drag her kicking and screaming out of Velaris, she loved it so much.”
I fumbled for the right response to the quiet sorrow in those words. But like a useless fool, I merely asked, “Then why are both your houses on the other side of the river?” I leaned against the railing, watching the reflections of the Rainbow wobble on the river surface like bright fishes struggling in the current.
“Because I wanted a quiet street—so I could visit this clamor whenever I wished and then have a home to retreat to.”
“You could have just reordered the city.”
“Why the hell would I change one thing about this place?”
“Isn’t that what High Lords do?” My breath clouded in front of me in the brisk night. “Whatever they please?”
He studied my face. “There are a great many things that I wish to do, and don’t get to.”
I hadn’t realized how close we were standing. “So when you buy jewelry for Amren, is it to keep yourself in her good graces or because you’re—together?”