“I never knew you were a stickler for manners, Az.”
Azriel only released Cassian’s hand, and stared at his wineglass.
Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. “Please don’t wait on my account,” she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.
Ya que hoy tengo en mente a Lucien… me interesa saber qué opináis de la teoría que dice que, contra todo pronóstico, él será finalmente el Alto Rey de Prythian y no Feysand como muchos creen 👀
Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them.
Art by brielyasmin commissioned by commelain and @acyace03 🫶🏻