Chapter Text
“You look fancy.”
“You interrupted tea.”
Rhys lifted his eyebrows, not in surprise but in mild dismay. Now it made sense. When he had reached out to Azriel to ask him to come by the study, he knew that his brother was busy. However, the matter was urgent and he needed his input. He hadn’t realized that he was intruding on a tea party but now it was easier to understand why the tiara that Rhys had given Seryn for Winter Solstice was perched on his head.
Dressed in a loose dark blue tunic and black trousers tucked into dress boots, the spymaster looked quite fancy, as Rhys had put it. He was holding his daughter Seryn on his hip. The dark-haired five-year-old wasn’t pouting but instead giving Rhys a quiet judging look with her teal eyes. Her dress was the one she had worn a month or so ago for Starfall, layers and layers of diaphanous white and blue skirts that flowed with her. Someone had braided her hair like a crown around her head; he would lay his bets with Nuala or Cerridwen. Amidst the braids were strands of light, and her one lock of natural white hair gleamed with trapped starlight.
At the table, Tarquin covered a smile with his hand while Varian blinked. They had been discussing a possible threat off the coast when Rhys had decided to seek out Az and his skills.
“I apologize,” Rhys said to Seryn, who wrapped her arms around Az’s neck and turned her face away from Rhys. Oh…his sweet little niece’s displeasure was a knife to his chest. “Ser, I really am sorry.”
“I’m sure he’ll make it up to you,” Azriel said to his daughter, bumping his cheek against Seryn’s head.
“Spectacularly,” Rhys added immediately.
Seryn glanced at him and then lifted her chin, leaning back. “Are you having him leave again?” she asked Rhys, her grip on her father tightening for a moment.
Inwardly, that knife buried deeper. “Not for long—”
“So yes?” Seryn interrupted, frowning.
“Seryn,” Az said quietly, love and gentle admonishment in his voice.
Rhys held up his hands. “She’s allowed to be upset, I understand.” Lately he had sent Azriel all over the place on the Continent to check on various tumultuous or touchy regions that could cause them issues, so he realized that he was on the receiving end of Seryn’s ire. In her eyes, he was sending her father away every few days, and she didn’t always get to know why. Az’s absence from Prythian was possibly why the moving island that had approached the Summer Court’s coast hadn’t been noticed until now. If Az had been close by—well, perhaps it wasn’t as ominous as it seemed.
“If I had known you were here today, Seryn, I would have brought Lis to your party,” Tarquin said, mentioning his two-year-old daughter Talisa. “She would’ve loved it.”
“I didn’t know you were coming until you knocked on the front door, otherwise I might have mentioned it,” Rhys said. He was rarely caught off guard, but Tarquin seemed to enjoy showing up unannounced. Pomp and circumstance wasn’t really his forte, which Rhys appreciated, but a little forewarning—
“I like to keep you on your toes,” Tarquin said genially.
Beside Tarquin, Varian cleared his throat. “I know it’s not the same, Seryn, but if you still require a companion at your tea party, I can volunteer.”
Surprisingly, Varian had a soft spot for the Night Court children. While Amren treated them like miniature adults, Varian had proven to be better with the young ones. All three of the Night Court children, Nyx, Rhodes, and Seryn, could often be seen fishing on the banks of the river on warm afternoons with Varian. When he was visiting, they sometimes followed him around like three little ducks, much to Amren’s confusion.
“Right now?” Seryn’s gaze darted to Varian.
He glanced at Tarquin, who smiled in approval, before he inclined his head toward her. “If that’s what you wish.”
“All right…” She sighed as her clever eyes flicked back to Az. “We can have tea again when you get back?”
He nodded and set her on her feet. Putting his hand on top of her head, he offered her a quick smirk. “You know, the High Lords here might need to join us for tea. If you asked I have a feeling they would say yes.”
Tarquin and Rhys shared a look. That could be arranged. Rhys grinned. “Only if Seryn invites us.”
Seryn leaned against Azriel’s leg. “I’ll invite Tarquin. Maybe Uncle Rhys.”
“Aw, Ser,” Rhys said, putting his hand to his heart. “Only a maybe?”
She shrugged. He would have to be satisfied with that for now, but if an invitation wasn’t extended and Tarquin got one, he was going to be crushed. He made himself smile warmly. “Whatever you prefer.”
Az took off the tiara and handed it to Varian as the prince approached. “Thank you.”
Varian solemnly put the tiara on his own head in response and raised an eyebrow at Seryn. “What do you think?”
She tilted her head to the side. “It’s crooked. I’ll fix it.”
With a bow, Varian extended a hand to the little Lightweaver. “Shall we?”
Seryn flung her arms around Az’s leg. He picked her up and hugged her tight, kissing the side of her head before he held her out to Varian. She reluctantly let Varian take her. With one more disapproving frown for Rhys from the five-year-old, they left the study.
“Is she really not going to invite me?” Rhys asked Az, crossing his arms over his chest.
Az shrugged, just like his daughter. “Depends on how annoyed she is with you.”
“Nothing like the wrath of a child,” Tarquin said.
Rhys snorted. “Yours is only two. Wait until she’s that age.” His own son Nyx was a handful at eight; at the moment he was studying mathematics with a tutor, according to his schedule. That, or he had escaped and was at this very moment attempting to find Seryn and Rhodes for some impromptu quest or invading Feyre’s studio in the city.
“I get enough wrath, trust me,” Tarquin said, letting out a long breath.
“I’m assuming there’s a reason you ruined Seryn’s tea party?” Azriel asked calmly, his steady gaze on Rhys.
“It’s not ruined, it’s postponed,” Rhys countered, pointing at his brother. “It’ll be even better when it’s resumed.”
“If you’re invited,” Tarquin said quietly.
Rhys resisted the urge to glower at Tarquin and instead filled in Az with the details about the floating island that had appeared near the Summer Court. While Tarquin’s own informants were surveying the situation, Rhys would only be fully satisfied with reports from Azriel. Additionally, his abilities would let him gather more information than Tarquin’s spies; Rhys had no doubt in Az’s superiority in that area, especially in this instance.
With Rhys’ promise that he would keep an eye on Seryn until Gwyn returned from the library, Azriel left in swirls of shadows, presumably to talk to Gwyn and change into fighting leathers before he continued to the coast.
Tarquin and Rhys spoke a little longer about the island and when they should alert the other Courts. They decided to wait until Az returned to make that decision. Worrying the others or giving them false security when they didn’t know what was happening themselves seemed ill advised. Tarquin had only come to Rhys because the island was shrouded in shadow. Hence the need to send Az.
When they finished speaking, Rhys led Tarquin out of the study. As they passed a parlor, voices caught his attention. He and Tarquin stopped at the open doorway.
“You’re getting crumbs everywhere,” a terse familiar female voice scolded.
“I can’t help they’re delicious and crumbly,” Cassian replied through a mouthful of delicate circular cookies. The big Illyrian must have gotten pulled into the game on his way to the study. Now he was sitting at a table by the windows with Seryn, Varian, and in a fun turn of events, Amren.
“Here’s a napkin,” Seryn said, holding out a lacey white square.
“Thanks, Ser,” Cass said, grabbing it. He wiped his mouth roughly, earning him an exasperated sigh from Amren and a small scowl from Varian.
“You need to bring him to more tea parties,” Amren said to Seryn, “He needs training.”
“I’ve tried, I don’t think it works,” Seryn said. She sipped at her tea and glanced over at Rhys and Tarquin before taking another, longer disdainful sip of tea.
Cass noticed them at the door and grinned. He made a shooing motion. “You’re not allowed in, Rhys. No cookies for you.”
“That’s…fine,” Rhys said, torn between wanting to come back at Cassian and not further irritating the hostess.
Amren smirked. “Apparently you’re on the uninvited list.”
“For now,” Rhys said, very nonchalant.
As Seryn took another long sip of tea, Tarquin smiled. “That 'for now' might last a while.”
Certainly not. Right?