Chapter 284 Three is a crowd

284  Three is a crowd

"Missed me too, I see," he said.

"I will be waiting downstairs, my Lord," she said.

She left, and Azriel didn't take long to get ready. He needed the sleep he had sacrificed for late nights on the training grounds, and the most he could add was an hour. So washing up didn't take up time, and he was in his black-on-black outfit, hair banded at the nape of his neck.

He met Penelope already changed in an emerald silk gown, waiting at the entrance of the mansion's doors, and the massive doorframe made her look vulnerable as he walked down the stairs. So she could change for Neera but not him, Azriel shook his head as he approached her.

His guards and some of his maids were standing in wait, and Penelope wore her dark hair down in a braid that rested on her shoulder. She just seemed to get more beautiful with each day.

"It's to the training ground first," Azriel informed her.

"Oh, I thought we were going to the palace," Penelope said. "Are we going today?"

"Yes, after. You sound as if you are rushing to see a friend after a long period of time."

Penelope blessed him with a shy smile. "We've been together at the castle for a while already. I miss her."

"I'm sure she'd miss you more, with Zavian and Freya as company," Azriel said in a dry tone. He bunched his lips together, his brows knitting their way into a frown. "That reminds me, is there anything about me that indicates I am a Eunuch?"

The question took Penelope by surprise that she just gawked for a few seconds.

"What?" She finally asked.

"If I didn't have the prowess it took to have been a rake," Azriel worded carefully. "Don't I have anything else to offer?"

"Of course you do, my Lord," Penelope almost looked offended on his behalf.

"Really?" Azriel smiled, wishing Freya were there, but their only audience was the servants standing around. "Like what?"

"You are magnanimous in a way that is effortless, you command respect without forcing it, your servants are treated well, you are loyal to the people you care about, you are hardworking, you are brave…"

She halted, because Azriel had pulled her close and because he was kissing her. She felt herself melt in his arms, slip like goo down into a puddle, and thankfully, Azriel's hold on her was firm.

And just like that, he broke the kiss and smiled against her face.

"It means so much to me that you see me that way, Pen," Azriel said.

Her name undid the trance of the kiss, and when she looked around, every eye in the room was on them, and they had all witnessed him kiss her.

She didn't push Azriel away, didn't need to when the damage had been done.

Azriel held her to his side, and slipped his fingers through hers, squeezing her hand in his. She held on just as tight.

When he hoisted her up and into the carriage, Neera's words wrapped around her, comforting rather than argumentative.

He's a demon, you are human. and is that such a bad thing?

When Azriel turned to look at her, eyes still gleaming, Penelope answered, "No, it's not."

"What's that?" Azriel asked.

Penelope only used her actions to show him. So she knitted her fingers behind his neck, and for the first time, she initiated the kiss.

….

There is one discovery about looking into mirrors for too long.

No matter how pretty one might be, their reflection begins to be exhausting to look at at some point. Staring into the mirror long at night is even worse, the reflection begins to grow jagged, features sharpened, sinister intents lurking behind the eyes, lips, the entire face.

Still, after experiencing all these, Neera still stared at the blank reflection of her eyes looking right at her. She did everything she could, called Lydia's name repeatedly, and even knocked on the glass, for if the mirror was truly a door to another world, someone should hear her on the other end.

No one responded. And she could feel the weight of the pain bearing down on her shoulders. This was the one thing they all required of her, and yet, she failed.

She looked away from her reflection and rested her head on the vanity table.

"I'm tired," she said out loud to no one in particular. But her mind conjured up an image of Zavian standing next to her, and looking down at her weary frame. He would put a hand on her back, and rub it in that soothing way.

Talk to me Neera, she could imagine this image of Zavian saying.

Her eyes stung with tears. "I'm afraid, tired, and sad. I'm weighed down by all these emotions and I wish you would make it lighter to carry."

How? This Zavian asked.

"Stop pulling away from me," Neera said. "Stop. We have centuries of history between us, and I can't stand this distance. I can't. I wish there was something I could take to heal everything inside me, but even the witches won't be of any help."

"But I can be," the reply came.

Neera froze. It wasn't even Zavian's voice. Someone else was in the chamber.

She lifted her head, and instead of her coming face to face with her reflection, another face was in the mirror, features of both Freya and Zavian lifted in a triumphant smile.

"Lydia," Neera gasped.

"I can see you have missed me, your Majesty." She said in a teasing voice.

I should get Zavian, Neera thought. She glanced at the door, hoping he would come in at that time.

"Three is a crowd, my darling," Lydia said, reading her thoughts. "I'm only here because I am curious as to why you seek me out."

"Did...were... have you...," Neera stilled her tongue for a bit for coherency to return before she spoke again. "Did you hear me all this time?"