Finishing with the Attor, the two Shadowsingers walk out the cell, their clothes covered in silvery blood and parts of its wings. The two walked out of the Court of Nightmares in silence. Their presence made people of the court flinch away. The two looked like a walking nightmare and no one wanted to disturb them, even though most were curious about the short female that was walking next to the High Lord's Shadowsinger.

The trip back to Velaris was silent as the two flew high over the clouds and the people of the night realm.

They landed quietly at the front door and snuck their way into the living room where the rest of the Inner Circle was gathered.

In the living room where Cassian and Mor arguing about which of them was the fastest at a shortdistance. They argued about whether Cassian could fly faster than Mom could winnow. Azriel and Nala stood themselves along the wall, half hidden away in the shadows. They had both changed clothes, Azriel was in his plain Illyrian leather, while Nala was wearing a tight-fitting cobalt blue dress with longsleeves – the color matching the stones on Azriel's hands. It went to her right in the middle of the thighs, the sides of the dress up to above her hips were of transparent fabric, the neck of the dress was high but transparent. For it, she wore her black stilettos with silver embellishment on the heel and the necklace she had received from Amren her first day in Velaris.

Even though it was a chilly evening, all the shops were open as they walked through town. Music was played in the small squares, and The Palace of Thread and Jewels was packed with performers and shoppers, both High Fae and ordinary Fae. But they continued past them, down to the river, where the light from the city and the stars mingled in the water, so that it looked like a silky band of eternity.

The group gave themselves plenty of time as they strolled over one of the marble bridges that crossed Sidra. They moved snapped and chatted back and forth between each other, but they walked. Azriel and Nala walked with their hands together. He had grabbed her hand when she was about to stumble earlier and had not yet released her. It made her warm in her cheeks and around her heart. The light from the ornamented lanterns that stood along the bridge cast golden shadows on the wings of the three men and glistened in their claws. It made the feathers on Nala's wings stood out clearly.

The talk was about people they knew, sports matches and teams that Feyre and Nala had never heard of (it turned out that Amren was hardcore, obsessed with being a fan of one of them, something Nala found cute), new shops, music they had heard, nightclubs they liked ... Not a word about Hybern or the threats they faced - no doubt not to talk about themselves, but Feyre had the feeling that it was also because tonight, in the here time together, they did not want the awful, ugly reality to ruin anything. As if they were just ordinary citizens - even Rhys. As if they were not the most powerful in this kingdom, perhaps even in the whole of Prythian. And no one, absolutely no one faded or froze or ran their way. People were skyrocketing, maybe a little scared, but ... no fear.

The other side of town was even more crowded, with your people on their way to one of the many theaters they passed. Feyre and Nala had never seen a theater before - never attended a play or a concert or a symphony. In their small snooty village, when they were lucky, they had had jokers and troubadours - and when they were less fortunate hordes of beggars who trotted in dubious wind instruments.

They passed along the river, passing shops and cafes, from where the music flowed out towards them. They strut at a leisurely pace, Nala was still by Azriel's side, her arm now in his, her hand held with Amren who walked on her other side as they walked and whispered to themselves. Rhys smiled as he looked at them, even if he didn't understand where Amren fit into the two shadowsingers, he was happy that his brother and friend were happy..

Finally, they reached a small restaurant by the river, located at the bottom of a two-story building. The whole place was decorated in green and golden tones and was barely large for them. And three sets of Illyrian wings and one set of black wings of feathers.

But the owner knew them and kissed them all on the cheek, even Rhysand. Or just apart from Amren, she bowed to her, asked the group to sit at the large table, which stood half inside half outside the room. And then she hurried out into her kitchen again. The starry night was cool, the wind shaking in the palm trees placed in large pots along the railing next to the river. They had undoubtedly sown a batch of star dust so as not to go to in the winter - and in the same way the heat from the restaurant kept the cold away from them and the others who ate outside by the riverbank.

Then the plates followed in a gentle stream, along with the wine and the conversation, and they ate under the stars by the river. Nala had never tasted such good food - hot and rich in flavor, sweet and strong. Feyre felt as if it not only filled her stomach, but also the empty hole the older Archeron had in her breast.

The owner - a slender woman with dark skin and wonderful brown eyes - stood behind Feyre and chatted with Rhys about the latest shipment of spices that had come to The Palaces. "The merchants say that prices may rise, High Lord, especially if the rumors that Hybern is moving are true."

Everyone from the Inner Circle slowly turned their attention to the owner, Feyre and Rhys, even though they were still talking to each other. Nala sat stiffly by Azriel's side, her claws drilling into his arm as she listened to the conversation. The male did nothing to stop her, she needed a way to get out of her frustration.

Rhys leaned back in his chair and tossed the wine around in his glass. "We'll find a way to keep prices in check."

"Of course, you should not bother unnecessarily," said the owner, wringing her hands. "It's just because ... it's so nice to have all these spices again - now that ... where it's all going better."

Rhys sent her a friendly smile; the smile that made him look younger. "It would not be a hassle - not because I love your food so much. That's what I have Nala for, among other things." He said it casually and Nala nodded weakly.

The owner beamed, blushed, and looked at Feyre, who had turned half in the chair to be able to see her. "Do you like it?"

Feyre looked at the dishes, looked up at the owner and said: "I have lived in the realms of the mortal, and I have lived in other realms, but I have never tasted food like this. Food that makes me feel... alive. "

The owner nodded, as if she understood and squeezed Feyre's shoulder. "Then you should taste a very special dessert," she said, going out into the kitchen.

Feyre turned to her plate again and Nala finally relaxed, noticing the marks she had inflicted on Azriel.

"Fuck ... Sorry," she whispered to him, letting her fingertips run over the small stab wounds her claws had inflicted. She did not dare look him in the eye, afraid to see a negative feeling.

"It does not matter," he took her by the chin and lifted her head, so she looked him in the eyes. "I barely felt it." He did not lie, his eyes told her so much. He was so close to her, his lips so close to hers, only a few centimeters. His scent hit her nose, it wrapped around her around a duvet, he smelled of Lemon and darkness.

"No one leaves my restaurant hungry," said the owner, breaking concentration between the two Shadowsingers. They pulled apart and Nala felt the warmth in her cheeks as Feyre looked at her with raised eyebrows. Amren smirk at the female over her glass of blood, winking at her, making Nala blush lightly. 

And they didn't leave hungry, all seven were more than ready to roll when they left the table and Rhys had paid the bill, despite the owner's protests.

Mor rubbed lazily on her stomach as the group stopped by the river. "I feel like dancing. I still can't fall asleep when I'm so full. Rita's is just around the corner."

Nala tightened her grip on Azriel's arm, her other hand tight around Amrens waist. She still did not trust the golden-haired Fae when it came to the male, Nala felt a need to claim him. If they would dance, then she would definitely join. Even though she felt Feyre's hesitation.

"We are fresh" said Azriel, his one hand squeezing Nala's thigh where it had rested. Nala blushed a little at how he had included her in his response. She certainly saw a future for them now as partners. Amren grinned sharply and nodded. 

"Of course, you are," Cassian snorted, frowning. "Are you leaving at dawn?"

Mor seemed as worried as Cassian - as if it had just dawned on her what he was going to do the next day. However, Feyre only looked at her sister.

"We don't have to ..." Mor said to Azriel, and Nala wanted to snarl.

"Are you going with him?" Asked Feyre, interrupting Mor. Mor looked at Nala for the first time, the surprise was painted on her face.

Nala nodded. "We want to go out dancing, and yes Feyre, I am. He's not allowed to do this alone, not even if he wants to." She sent Azriel a hard look which just got a small smile out of him.

Mor turned to Cassian, unable to look at the shadowsingers anymore. "Is it possible that you have time to go with, or should you go home and admire your muscles in the mirror?"

Cassian snorted, put her arm under hers and led her further down the street. "I'll probably go along - for the good drinks, your asshole. No dancing here."

"Thank you, Holy Mother. You almost smashed my foot the last time you tried."

Nala sent Azriel a smile and started following Cassian and Mor, he raised an eyebrow, put his arm around her hip and led them.

Mor waits up at the end of the hill with her purple dress fluttering in the winter breeze. She raised a golden-dark eyebrow. Rhys shook his head, and she waved to them. Nala turned briefly and waved to her sister before her, Amren and Azriel disappeared across the hill.