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“Make Seryn talk to me.”
Azriel glanced up from where he had been reading a report, one eyebrow lifting as he realized how close Nyx had gotten. His ten-year-old nephew was leaning heavily on the arm of Azriel’s chair and frowning fiercely. They were in the study of the River House. Azriel had come over specifically for the report; Gwyn had joined him so she could ask Elain about a flowerbed that was doing poorly at the cottage. Seryn had tagged along so she could visit with her cousin. Azriel had been focusing on the report, and Rhys watched the children while Feyre was at an artists’ meeting in the Rainbow about a new gallery exhibition. It was supposed to be a calm afternoon, or that had been Azriel’s possibly misplaced hope.
“Why isn’t she talking to you?” Azriel asked, shifting the report. Over on the other side of the room, Seryn was cuddled up to Rhys’ side and reading a picture book. Or, judging by the glare she shot Nyx over the top of it, pretending to read. Beside her, Rhys grinned and fidgeted with a jointed toy horse that belonged to Nyx.
Nyx shifted from foot to foot. “No reason.”
Seryn made a snarly little noise. Setting her book down, she grabbed Rhys’ arm. She hauled it around herself and pressed closer to his side, grabbing the book again and situating it so it sat on his arm and hid her. Rhys smirked.
Azriel gave Nyx a long searching look.
Nyx sighed, his eyes darting up at the ceiling to avoid Azriel’s stare. “I might have said unicorns probably aren’t real. And if they were real, they don’t exist anymore.”
“Please tell Nyx that unicorns are very real and very alive, again, Uncle Rhys,” Seryn said from behind the book.
Rhys looked terribly amused. “Excuse me, beloved son, Seryn would like you to know—”
Nyx narrowed his eyes. “I heard her, Da.”
“That unicorns are very real and very alive,” Rhys finished. He jostled his arm that Seryn had wrapped around her. “Was that good?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Any time, moonbeam.”
“As you can see, my father is against me,” Nyx said, appealing to Azriel again, “He’s doing nothing in my favor because Seryn is clearly his favorite, and if somehow she is not his favorite, she’s still treated better than I am in my own home while I, his son, am discarded—”
Azriel held up a hand. “Breathe.” The older he got, the more Nyx reminded Azriel of Rhys when he was young. Early on in their friendship, Azriel had learned to tune Rhys out when he went on and on, growing increasingly dramatic. Over time, the habit had lessened. But he didn’t think it had fully gone away; it had been diminished by time, but Rhys still liked hearing himself talk, as his sister Isolde used to say. Azriel pushed down the quick pang of loss as Nyx drew in a deep breath.
“As I was saying, I was discarded, cast aside due to his soft spot for the youngest in our family—”
“Maybe you should try making a speech like that to Seryn,” Rhys interrupted before Nyx could carry on.
“Tell him do not,” Seryn said, still behind her book.
“See?” Nyx dropped forward, his chin landing on Azriel’s shoulder. “Do something.”
Azriel folded up the report. “Do you have definitive proof that unicorns don’t exist?”
Nyx drooped. “No, but—”
“Do you at least have strong evidence?”
Nyx groaned and ground his chin into Azriel’s shoulder. “Uncle Az, come on, they’re just stories…”
“Does it matter that much to you to be right over something you can’t prove?”
“Sort of.”
“I can’t make her speak to you,” Azriel said, “But maybe she could agree that unicorns might not exist…”
Seryn made another very grumpy noise.
Rhys grinned. “Well, Az, I do love that she inherited your temper.”
Azriel rolled his eyes. Personally he thought that Seryn’s temper was more like her mother’s…except he couldn’t deny that she got her ability to hold a grudge from him. Gwyn was quicker to forgive. Seryn, however, was like him; she didn’t quickly forget a slight. Poor Nyx.
Gwyn poked her head into the study at that moment as if she could tell he was thinking of her. Some of Azriel’s shadows whisked toward her instantly, joining the one that tended to stick with her.
Nyx lit up at the prospect of a new champion. “Aunt Gwyn!” Shoving away from Azriel’s chair, he ran over to her. His wings flared out. “No one is on my side in anything ever, I need your help.”
“Not ever? Goodness, you know, I could have sworn last week Cassian’s took your side in that debate about battleships and naval warfare,” Gwyn said, tapping her chin. “And then you and Rhodes and Seryn ganged up on us all a few days ago to demand a sleepover. And didn’t Mor recently argue for a later bedtime for you?”
Nyx froze. He turned on his heel, his wings jerking closed again. He lifted his head. “It’s official. No one loves me. I’ll see myself out.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Gwyn gently caught him by the shoulder as he started to march by. Her questioning gaze found Azriel. He shrugged. There was no way to explain with eye movements exactly what was happening here, but he did flick his eyes toward Seryn. Their six-year-old pulled the book back up to hide her face again. She had nearly dropped it when Nyx declared he was unloved. He was sure that was Gwyn in her, that sudden worry that she hadn’t expressed how much she loved someone adequately. She was a little young to recognize emotional manipulation.
“Can’t you just say that unicorns might exist?” Rhys said.
“At this point, no,” Nyx grumbled.
“Uncle Rhys, tell Nyx—”
“Don’t! Ugh!”
“What’s this about unicorns?” Gwyn said, turning Nyx around. “Are you fighting over unicorns, Ser?”
Seryn lowered the book, her lips pursed in a frown. “Nyx is mean. He says they’re all dead or never were alive ever.”
“That’s not how I put it,” Nyx protested, “Honest. I didn’t say it like that.”
“Mama, tell Nyx that unicorns are real—”
“Seryn, please, I just want to play checkers or hide and seek or anything and not argue about unicorns anymore,” Nyx said, “They can be maybe real if you want them to be.”
Seryn toyed with the edge of the book like she might open it again. She bumped the side of her head against Rhys. “If I said yes to Nyx, can you and Papa and Mama play too?”
“Only if this wasn’t some elaborate scheme to get us to play hide and seek. Especially when you could’ve just asked.”
“We would never,” Nyx said with a grin that seemed far too sudden. Even if it wasn’t a trick, Nyx must have liked the idea of being cunning. “Does this mean you’re speaking to me again, Ser?”
“Uncle Rhys, tell Nyx I’ll talk to him after three rounds of hide and seek as long as he doesn’t talk about dead unicorns anymore.”
“Tell Seryn I can agree to those terms.”
Rhys stood, hoisting Seryn under his arm like a game ball in a sports tournament. “I believe you heard each other,” he said, heading toward the study’s entrance, “Now, who’s going to be the first seeker?”
“Not it!” both of the children exclaimed.
Rhys tapped instantly and annoyingly on Azriel’s mental shield until he lowered it. Aren’t you coming?
You agreed to this, not me.
You’ll disappoint the children.
And you, Azriel countered, You’re the biggest child.
No, that would be Cassian, who would certainly join in if he was here. And he wouldn't insult me.
Aren't you lucky to have me around to keep you humble. And he would, too.
Rhys sent back the image of a very rude but teasing gesture and Azriel slammed his mental shield down.
Gwyn perched on the arm of Azriel’s chair as they were left temporarily alone. “I still feel like I don’t know what just happened.”
With a swift movement, he pulled her down onto his lap. “I think we’ve been tricked into hide and seek.”
“Hmm…should we hide or not, then? Is that incentivizing them for future schemes?”
The shadows raced around them, creating a shady shield. “This is adequate.”
Gwyn grinned and kissed his cheek. “You’re not very good at this game today.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“I’m just saying, I could do better on my own.”
Azriel stood, sweeping her into his arms, before setting her down. He gestured to the door the children and Rhys had left out of. “Then prove it, valkyrie.”
“Gladly, shadowsinger.”