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Right on time, I heard two swift knocks at the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by none other than my newfound, sortof companion. Ah, how I’d missed that cold, deathly face of his. “Hey,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “Don’t you want a warmer cloak” he asked, one dark brow arching judgmentally. “This is my thickest,” I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. It wasn’t as confident as I wanted it to be. The truth was, the only nice clothing I had were the elegant gowns Hank had insisted on buying me. Before this whole clusterfuck of a plan happened, I’d been living peacefully—and unfortunately, poorly. Azriel studied me for a moment, his expression giving nothing away, before nodding. “We’re going to the medical bay first. Do you have your list” I patted the worn leather satchel slung across my shoulder. “Yep.” He turned without another word, and I followed like a good little lost pup. Except instead of heading through the halls, he led me straight to the balcony. “Did you want to watch the sunrise or something” I asked, mocking the image of this brooding brute sipping a cappuccino while waxing poetic about the dawn. “No, we’re leaving,” he said dryly. I blinked at the sheer audacity of his words. “I’m not jumping,” I said with finality, stepping back. “That’s a long, fucking way down. I’ll just take the stairs.” I started to turn, fully ready to walk away from his madness. In the next second, I was airborne. My body was hauled up in a smooth, practiced motion, his arms locked under my knees and around my back. I instinctively threw my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. Before I could scream my protest, we were in the air, wind whipping past my face, my stomach left somewhere far behind on the balcony. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying fervently to every god, deity, or higher power I could think of not to let me die right now. “Are you alright” Azriel’s voice broke through the roar of the wind, calm and almost... amused. “Shut up” I shouted back. “Why” “Because the more you talk, the more I want to tell you to fuck off, but then you’ll be mad, and then you’ll drop me. So shut up” I yelled, squeezing my eyes shut even tighter. I felt his chest rumble beneath my hands, and it took me a moment to realize he was laughing. The asshole was laughing. “How did you think we were going to get there” Azriel asked, his voice maddeningly calm as the wind roared around us. “Call me crazy, but I thought we’d walk. You know, with our legs. Remember those” I snapped, clutching his neck tighter despite my urge to strangle him. “You should open your eyes.” “You should fuck off,” I hissed. “If we weren’t in the air right now, I’d kick you in the balls” And then we were falling. My stomach plummeted, the rush of air deafening in my ears. Mother above. I’m about to die. This is it. Goodbye, world. I have no regrets. Except... we didn’t hit the ground. The descent stopped as abruptly as it had started, and Azriel’s arms held me steady once more. That low, infuriating rumble came again—his laugh. He did it on purpose. I smacked his chest, my breathing rapid and uneven. “You—absolute—bastard” Each word punctuated with another slap. “Careful,” he said, his tone calm but that smirk audible in his voice. “You don’t want to fall for real, do you” “Why would you do that” I shrieked, glaring up at him. “You were being difficult,” he said simply, not even pretending to apologize. I huffed, debating whether throttling him midair would be worth it, but the thought of falling—again—kept my hands firmly where they were. “You’re the worst, you know that” “Some would argue otherwise.” “Well, some are clearly blind and deaf,” I muttered, glaring daggers at his face, which somehow managed to remain infuriatingly composed. We dipped suddenly, just enough to make my stomach lurch again. “Alright, alright” I clung tighter, my nails digging into his leathers. “I get it. I’ll stop being insufferable. Just—keep us steady, damn it” “Good,” he said, his smirk widening slightly as he leveled us out. I groaned, cursing every god and myself for ever agreeing to this insanity. Chapter 9Azriel I learned two things about the little apothecary today. First, she was terrified of flying. Second, she didn’t bluff. The moment we landed, Yennefer made good on her promise and damn near kicked me in the balls. If I hadn’t blocked it—barely, mind you—she might’ve been the one patching me up. There was enough force behind that kick to send me straight to the healers. I laughed as she spun on her heel, muttering under her breath while marching into the medical bay. Following her inside, I couldn’t help but smirk at her reaction. She froze in the hallway, her head craned back as she took in the sight. The medical bay was nothing short of stunning. Dark wood panels and gold accents lent the space an air of warm sophistication. Herbs hung in neat, fragrant bundles from the high ceilings, their shadows dancing softly against the walls. Floortoceiling shelves lined the far wall, filled with jars and vials of every herb, root, and spice imaginable. Rolling ladders leaned against the shelves for easy access to the upper levels. It wasn’t ostentatious, just refined, like someone had poured their heart and soul into creating a healer’s dream. Her large dark eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Holy hell,” Yennefer muttered, her voice tinged with awe. “Incredible, isn’t it” We both turned to find a young man approaching, a wide smile plastered across his face. “There are more herbs here than I thought existed,” she admitted, her eyes still darting around the room. The man’s icy blue eyes scanned her briefly before he extended his hand. “Sebastian Beckett. But everyone calls me Bas.” Yennefer hesitated for a heartbeat before shaking his hand. “Yennefer Aldryn.” “What brings you by” Bas asked, his curiosity evident. “If you’re looking for something specific, I can help.” She adjusted the strap of her satchel and opened it slightly, revealing a few halffilled jars. “I’m just here to refill some supplies.” His brows lifted. “You’re a healer” “Something like that.” I stepped forward, my voice cutting through their exchange. “Give her whatever she needs and send the bill to the High Lord’s chambers.” Bas’s eyes snapped to me, and his smile faltered as recognition dawned. He stiffened slightly. “I didn’t realize you two came in together. Sorry.” “For what” Yennefer asked, her tone genuinely confused. She was completely oblivious to the fact that Bas had been eyeing her a little too appreciatively a moment ago. I, however, caught it. My gaze locked on his, and I inclined my head just slightly—a silent warning. Don’t ever do that again. Bas paled, his posture growing rigid. Message received. Yennefer, meanwhile, was blissfully unaware of the shift in energy. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. “I made a list, but it’s sort of long. If you could just point me in the general direction, I can manage from there.” “Nonsense,” Bas said, shaking his head and taking the list from her. “I’d love to help.” I narrowed my eyes on him. Sure, he’d love to help. Who wouldn’t Yennefer might be infuriating and stubborn, but she wasn’t hard to look at. Her sharp features and wild, unyielding energy had a way of drawing attention—even if she didn’t seem to notice. Bas scanned the list, his eyebrows climbing higher with every line. “These are some serious herbs,” he remarked, already heading for the shelves. “Are you a specialized healer” “Since the list is so long, shouldn’t you be getting to work” I said, my tone pointed. There was no need for small talk. The fewer people who knew Yennefer’s importance to the Court right now, the better. “Of course,” Bas stammered, rushing to comply. Yennefer shot me a questioning look, her brows knitting together in silent inquiry. I ignored it, pretending not to notice. Pulling me to the side she whispered “so I know youre not very personable but this is a little dramatic isnt it” The truth was, she had no idea how valuable she was to the Night Court now. Whether she realized it or not, her skills had already made her one of the Court’s most essential assets. “You are working directly to the highlord. And any disrespect toward you was, by extension, an insult to Rhysand himself.” i said “Does anyone even know yet” she asked “Not yet but they will,” I said. She rolled her eyes. She turned on her heels and went back to the boy. Bas busied himself, moving swiftly from one shelf to another, collecting jars and vials with an efficiency that suggested he’d worked here for years. Yennefer followed his movements with an intensity I’d come to recognize—a healer’s scrutiny. “This blend is perfect for blood clotting,” Bas said, holding up a jar of dried flowers. “And this one is for fever reduction, though it’s a bit more potent than what you might be used to.” Yennefer stepped closer, examining the jars he set on the counter. “I’ve worked with feverfew before, but not in this concentration. Do you combine it with anything else” Bas grinned, his enthusiasm rekindled by her interest. “Usually white willow bark. It’s effective, but the balance is tricky. I could show you—” “She doesn’t have time for lessons,” I interrupted, leaning against the doorframe. Yennefer shot me a glare, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I think I can decide how to spend my time, thank you.” “Then spend it wisely,” I replied smoothly, tilting my head toward the shelves. “We’ve got other places to be.” Bas cleared his throat, his earlier nervousness returning under the weight of my gaze. “Right. I’ll just get the rest of these together.” He disappeared into the rows of shelves, leaving Yennefer and me alone. She crossed her arms, her voice dropping into a hiss. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.” “Clearly, I do,” I said, my tone colder than I intended. “You’re too trusting.” Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. Instead, she turned her back on me, scanning the shelves with an air of determination. “You know,” she said after a moment, her voice deceptively calm, “if you’d stop acting like the world’s biggest shadowy asshole for five seconds, you might actually make a decent ally.” I raised a brow. “Shadowy asshole” “Did I stutter” I couldn’t help it—I laughed. The sound startled her, her head whipping around to glare at me. “What’s so funny” “You,” I said simply. “You’re standing in one of the most wellstocked medical bays in Prythian, with access to resources most healers can only dream of, and you’re still picking a fight with me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe because you’re an insufferable control freak.” Bas reappeared before I could reply, a stack of jars and bundles in his arms. “Here we go,” he said, carefully setting them on the counter. “This should cover everything on your list.” Yennefer stepped forward, inspecting each item with meticulous care. Her fingers brushed over the labels, her brows furrowing as she read. “This is perfect,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Bas beamed. “Glad I could help.” “She’ll need it all delivered to her quarters,” I said, pushing off the doorframe. Yennefer spun to face me. “I can carry it myself.” “No, you can’t,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ve got other work to do.” Her eyes blazed, but she didn’t argue further, instead turning back to Bas. “Thank you. This will help more than you know.” Bas nodded, though his gaze flicked to me briefly, as if seeking permission to respond. I gave him a curt nod, and he relaxed slightly. As we left the medical bay, Yennefer kept her pace brisk, clearly annoyed. “You know,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm, “I almost missed your charming personality while I was admiring the herbs.” “Good,” I said, my shadows curling around me as I fell into step beside her. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of it.” She muttered something under her breath that I didn’t quite catch, but the fire in her eyes told me all I needed to know. Chapter 10 Azriel I kept a few paces ahead of her as we left the medical bay, my shadows trailing behind to ensure she followed. Yennefer muttered something under her breath—low, irritated. I didn’t ask her to repeat it nothing she’d said to me so far had been complimentary. “Where are we going now” she muttered “The moonlit” i said “Oh my thankyou for all the vague details.” “Its like camps for healers” The Moonlit Halls stretched endlessly, their smooth stone floors catching the faint light from sconces lining the walls. The corridors were quiet, save for the distant hum of voices. Yennefer walked deliberately behind me, her presence a mix of tension and stubborn resolve. Neither of us spoke. My patience had already worn thin during our earlier trip, and I wasn’t eager for another verbal sparring match tonight. We reached the section reserved for healers, and I stopped before a polished oak door. Intricate carvings of a raven adorned its surface, the craftsmanship catching the flickering light. “This is yours,” I said, stepping aside to let her pass. Yennefer crossed her arms, scrutinizing the door with narrowed eyes. “Do you keep all the healers here, or just the ones you plan to watch like a hawk” I raised a brow. “Would you prefer the dungeons” She snorted and brushed past me. As the door swung open, my shadows curled around her ankles, catching the faint, earthy scent of herbs clinging to her. She froze in the doorway. “What is this” she asked quietly. I frowned, stepping closer. “Your quarters.” “It looks like a house,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Well, I’d hope so. It’s yours.” I studied her reaction, puzzled. “What do you think” “This was supposed to be a healer’s chamber, wasn’t it” she asked softly, finally stepping inside. “The chamber is next door. This is your home unless you don’t want it. So… what do you think” Her silence stretched, and for a moment, I thought she might scoff or make another cutting remark. Instead, her shoulders sagged, and she tilted her head as if hiding her face. The faint glassiness in her eyes caught me off guard. Was she crying Before I could speak, she crossed the room to the shelves, running her fingers along the edge of the table. Her satchel slipped from her shoulder, landing with a soft thud. “Not bad,” she finally said, her voice steady again. She traced a finger along the wood grain. “I was expecting something more... grim.” “Disappointed” “Maybe a little.” A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she glanced at me over her shoulder. Whatever moment she’d had was gone—or buried so deeply I couldn’t see it. “Well,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, “I’ll leave you to settle in.” I placed two sets of keys on the small table by the door. “Oh, don’t rush off,” she replied, her sarcasm sharp. “Your delightful company has been the highlight of my day.” I smirked, pushing off the frame. “I’ll be back at dawn. Don’t make me come in here and drag you out.” She opened her mouth, no doubt ready with a retort, but I didn’t wait to hear it. My shadows swirled around me as I walked down the corridor, leaving her to her new home. Chapter 11 Yennefer My house. The thought lingered as I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the room around me. My fingers traced the soft fabric of the blanket beneath me, firelight dancing across its surface. I have my own house. It didn’t feel real. Every breath felt fragile, as though one wrong move would shatter this reality. My childhood home had never been a sanctuary. It was a prison—walls meant to confine, not protect. Leaving it was my only choice, but the outside world hadn’t been much kinder. By the time I fled, I’d become a wanderer, moving from place to place—a boyfriend here, a friend there. I told myself it was temporary, just a stop along the way. But deep down, I knew better. Eventually, everyone grew tired of me. Or maybe I was too much trouble. Either way, the ending was always the same kicked out and back on the streets. The cold stone and damp earth of countless nights spent outside were etched into my bones. But now... now I have this. A lump rose in my throat as I clenched the blanket beneath me. The bed was too soft, the fire too warm, the room too inviting. This wasn’t just a place to sleep—it was a home. The air felt heavy with everything this space represented safety, solitude, permanence. For once, I wasn’t in someone else’s way. No one could kick me out or tell me I didn’t belong. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump down. Tears wouldn’t help. They never did. Rising, I wandered to the window, my bare feet silent against the stone floor. The city below glittered in the night, its lights reflecting off a faint mist that clung to the mountains. It was beautiful, more so than I’d expected. I pressed my hand against the cool glass, letting its chill ground me. Don’t get used to it, I told myself. It could all be gone tomorrow. But a small, stubborn voice whispered back It’s here now. Turning back, I let my gaze sweep over the room again. It wasn’t grand, but it was perfect. A cozy bed with oak furniture filled one corner, while the living room offered empty shelves begging to hold a book collection. And the kitchen… The kitchen was my favorite. It was simple—barely stocked and in need of pans, spices, and everything else—but it was mine. Cooking always reminded me of my mother, and I could already imagine myself there, recreating the recipes she once taught me. My eyes fell to the gold keys on the table. I picked them up and stepped outside. Just as Azriel had said, there was another room nearby with a mortar and pestle engraved into the door. Inside, I found a healer’s haven. Several patient beds lined the walls, curtains hanging to shield them from light. In the back was a small workspace for grinding herbs and making salves. Empty shelves stretched floor to ceiling, waiting to be filled. A gold stool caught my eye, a note attached to its polished surface. Yennefer, Welcome. I hope you find this space wellsuited to your work and needs. If there’s anything else you require, do not hesitate to ask. —The High Lady of Night Court A soft smile crept onto my lips. I hadn’t met the High Lady yet, but the gesture felt sincere. – – My house smelled divine, the air rich with basil and spices from the meal I’d been preparing. It had been a long day, and the prospect of a quiet evening with a homecooked meal was all I’d wanted. But of course, peace wasn’t in the cards. A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment, making me mutter under my breath, “Can’t even enjoy one meal in peace.” Rolling my eyes, I marched to the door and swung it open. Standing there was a young fae male, nervous and clutching a wooden crate like his life depended on it. “Delivery for Yennefer,” he stammered, glancing at me like I might bite him. I raised a brow, crossing my arms. “I didn’t order anything.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It’s from the High Pair.” That stopped me short. Poor kid looked like he might keel over from sheer nerves. Letting out a resigned sigh, I stepped aside and gestured toward the table. “Fine, leave it there.” He shook his head quickly, panic flashing in his eyes. “I can’t come inside. I’ll just—uh—leave it here.” He set the crate down just inside the door and scurried off like his shoes were on fire. “Okaaay,” I muttered, shutting the door behind him. I placed the crate on my table and pulled back the lid. Inside, neatly wrapped bundles of herbs, jars of tinctures, and a few battered books greeted me. Perched on top was a folded note sealed with red wax. Breaking the seal, I unfolded the parchment. The handwriting was elegant, almost too perfect Yennefer, Consider these a starting point. Should you require anything else, let me know. The library is also at your disposal. —Rhysand I frowned, running a finger over the words. The gesture was unexpected... kind, which made me instantly suspicious. Folding the note, I tucked it away for safekeeping. Before I could delve further, another loud thud sounded from outside. My shoulders sagged as I made my way back to the door. “Holy shit,” I muttered when I opened it. The hallway was lined with crates—more than a dozen, each larger than the last. “This is the last one,” the delivery boy puffed, dragging yet another massive box to the growing pile. He was so out of breath I thought he might keel over. “Are you okay” I asked, but he just gave a weak bow before stumbling off. “Right. Thanks for that,” I said to the empty hallway. Turning back to the mountain of packages, I sighed. “Looks like it’s just me and you guys.” Chapter 12 Yennefer Sometimes, plans sound much better on paper. After nearly twenty minutes of grunting, sweating, and sheer determination, I had managed to move the damned boxes inside by... maybe an inch. Maybe. Frustrated but not defeated, I marched to my workspace and grabbed a thick rope. Tying it securely around the largest box, I planted myself in the center of my living room and gave the rope a sharp tug. Nothing. Undeterred, I pulled again, harder this time. Still nothing. “Alright, you overgrown piece of wood,” I muttered, teeth clenched as I leaned my entire weight into the next pull. The box didn’t budge. Instead, I went flying backward, landing flat on my back with a resounding thud. “Ow,” I hissed, staring at the ceiling and trying to decide whether my pride or my tailbone hurt more. And then I heard it. Laughter. Loud, booming laughter that made me bolt upright so fast I nearly got whiplash. Standing in my doorway, arms crossed and smirking like the bastard he was, stood him. The General. The same arrogant prick who had threatened to kill me less than two days ago. “That,” he said between deep chuckles, “was truly a remarkable display of weakness. Did you honestly think that was going to work” Heat rose to my face—not from embarrassment but pure, unfiltered irritation. Pushing myself up, I brushed off my hands and planted them firmly on my hips. “Well, obviously I thought it would go better,” I snapped, glaring at him. “Now, what are you doing here” He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his tall frame practically eating up the space. His presence was suffocating, like he thought he owned every room he walked into. “I was sent to check on the new arrival,” he said, his tone laced with mockery as his sharp eyes scanned the chaotic pile of boxes. “Though it seems I’m actually here to rescue you from your own incompetence.” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “I don’t need rescuing, thanks.” “Clearly,” he drawled, amusement thick in his voice. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched me like I was some kind of entertaining sideshow. “I don’t have time for your condescension,” I shot back. “If you’re here to help, grab a box. If not, feel free to see yourself out.” To my surprise, his smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something almost... impressed It was gone so quickly I might have imagined it. “Bold for someone who was flat on her back two minutes ago,” he said, but he moved toward the nearest box anyway. “Don’t strain yourself, General,” I said sweetly. He snorted. “I could do this with one hand tied behind my back. Try not to trip over the rope this time.” As he easily hefted one of the heavier crates, I muttered under my breath, “Smug bastard.” Unfortunately, he heard that. “You’ll have to do better than that, little apothecary,” he said with a wink, carrying the box like it weighed nothing. Oh, how I hated him. While the General hauled the boxes inside—grumbling under his breath the entire time—I decided to make myself useful. Grabbing the nearest crate, I carefully undid the twine and pried it open. Inside were neatly folded blankets, a few candles, and an envelope. Curious, I picked up the note and unfolded it. Yennefer, Here are a few things to help make your house feel like a home. —The High Lady A small smile tugged at my lips. It was... thoughtful, and unexpected. “Looks like the High Lady is taking a liking to you,” a voice drawled behind me, making me jump. I turned to find the General looming over my shoulder, smirking as he read the note along with me. “Do you always read people’s letters” I snapped, clutching the parchment to my chest. “Only if they don’t hide them well enough,” he said, unfazed. “You’re insufferable.” “Maybe.” He crouched next to the box I’d opened, his curiosity apparently piqued, and pulled out a few long pieces of polished wood. “What is that” I asked, watching as he inspected one of the panels. “Looks like a bed frame,” he replied, rising to his full height with an ease that made me hate him just a little more. “They sent me furniture” I asked, incredulous. He glanced at me, his lips twitching in amusement. “Guess they think this place needs more than just a few herbs to feel livable.” Before I could respond, he wandered over to the bed I already had—a modest, slightly wobbly thing tucked into the corner of the room. “What are you doing” I demanded as he plopped himself down on it, testing the weight. Crack. My eyes widened as the sound echoed through the room, and then I just stood there, frozen, watching as the entire frame collapsed under him. The General was now sitting on the floor, surrounded by broken wood, looking completely unbothered. “Well,” he said casually, brushing dust off his hands, “that explains why they sent you new furniture. This shit’s ancient. Probably a death trap.” I gaped at him, torn between outrage and laughter. “Or maybe you’re just a fatass.” His head snapped toward me, his expression blank for a beat before he barked out a laugh, loud and unapologetic. “Careful, apothecary,” he said, standing up and looming over me again, “you might hurt my feelings.” “Doubtful,” I muttered, turning back to the crate. Behind me, he chuckled, and for a moment, it almost felt like we weren’t entirely at each other’s throats. My house had gone from peaceful to chaotic in less than five minutes. Boxes littered every corner, random pieces of wood were stacked in haphazard piles, and there was a growing sense of disorder that made my skin itch. Feeling the beginnings of a headache, I did the only logical thing I could think of—I walked away. Leaving the chaos behind, I retreated to my sanctuary the kitchen. Lighting the stove again, I slid the pan back into place and focused on finishing my dinner. The warm, comforting aroma of garlic, lemon, and butter filled the room, grounding me. At least this part of my day would go as planned. Just as I was plating the chicken, the General strolled into the doorway. “Well, since you’re all set, I’ll be heading out,” he announced, brushing off his hands like he’d done me some monumental favor. I froze, turning to look at him. “Wait—you’re just going to leave all that... stuff lying around” I gestured vaguely toward the chaos in the other room. “I don’t know how to build any of it” He shrugged, completely unconcerned. My eyes narrowed. “Do you like chicken piccata” His brows furrowed as he leaned against the doorframe. “What’s that” “It’s a dish made with chicken sautéed in a sauce of butter, lemon, capers, and white wine,” I said, waving the spatula for emphasis. The rich scent wafted between us, and I saw his nostrils flare slightly. His expression shifted, and I could see the interest spark. “It sounds... delicious,” he said, practically drooling as he glanced at the pan. I smiled sweetly, setting the plate down on the counter. “It is. Would you like some” His eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious. “Really” “Of course,” I said, folding my arms and leaning casually against the counter. “I have plenty. All you have to do is put all that stuff together, and it’s all yours.” He stared at me for a beat, then let out a booming laugh. “You’re serious” “Completely.” Shaking his head in amusement, he pushed off the doorframe and headed back toward the living room. “Fine, apothecary. You’ve got yourself a deal.”