Azriel, Cassian, and I had to attend to some business in Ironcrest, one of the Illyrian war-camps. Azriel says you'll be training with Mor and Elain this evening. Your assignment from me is to locate Feyre's shields without her sensing your presence.

~Rhys

Seren hummed and set the notecard aside. This had become a habit over the past few days. Rhysand always had some new assignment for her to do after their lesson. She was making good progress in all aspects of her training. Azriel was going to let her work with an actual blade soon. Rhysand had begun teaching her how to manipulate her powers once inside someone's mind.

"I suppose I should go find Feyre, then." Seren glanced at the shadow on her arm. "Do you know where she is?" It tugged on her arm in reply. "The art studio, maybe."

Seren left her room and set off walking. She reached the second floor and passed by the library. Hushed voices came from inside. Seren paused to investigate. Elain and Lucien were sitting on a sofa. Elain had a book opened atop her lap.

She pointed to something on the page. "This is epiphyllum oxypetalum. They're also called Queen of the Night. It only blooms at night and the flowers wilt before dawn."

"They sound like they would grow well here," Lucien replied.

"They probably would. I'd love to try growing one sometime, but I don't even know where to find a regular cactus, much less this one."

"What's this one?" Lucien pointed to another plant.

Seren grinned to herself and continued on her way. She reached Feyre's art studio shortly. The door was ajar, but she knocked anyway. "Come in," Feyre called.

Seren entered and found the High Lady sitting before her easel. Nyx lay on a thick blanket beside her. He cooed, waving his hands in the air. "What are you painting today?" Seren crouched down beside Nyx. She pulled an odd expression and he reached towards her.

Feyre sighed and set her brush down. "Nothing, it seems. My inspiration is running low." She passed the brush to Seren. "Here. Why don't you paint instead?"

They switched places. Seren eyed the canvas, thinking. She began to dab paint in place. The outline of a hand appeared. She added splashes of red and yellow.

"Are you sure you never learned to paint?" Feyre asked.

"Soulful Vision was my first piece."

"Then you must have a natural talent. You have an eye for shapes and color."

"As a child, I would study anyone I saw until I remembered them exactly. I was never allowed to go out and so few people were allowed to come in. Those few people were my glimpses of the world and I wanted to remember them in case I was never given the chance to see things for myself."

"So it's a habit?" Feyre picked up Nyx and moved behind Seren.

"More or less. I try to remember even the finest details of everyone I meet."

"What is an odd detail you noticed about me?"

"You're always alert. You keep your ears pricked up at all times, as though you're listening for threats." Seren gestured to her own pointed ears, which were angled slightly lower than Feyre's.

"I never would have thought of that." Feyre examined herself in a mirror, then laughed. "You're right! Tell me about the others. I want to know if I've noticed the small things about them too."

"All right." Seren blotted some more red paint onto the canvas. She began mixing black and white paint next. "Well, Mor always holds her chin up. Even when she's relaxed, her head is held straight. Elain has a bounding walk, like a carefree child, or a fawn. Nesta is unnaturally still. She can be so still that her hair doesn't even move in the wind."

"I have noticed that. Nesta was always able to stand still when we were mortals. Becoming High Fae strengthened that ability of hers," Feyre replied thoughtfully. "Keep going."

"Rhysand is always alert, like you, but he shows it in other ways. He puts an arm around you when he's being protective. Cassian doesn't seem to like being in Elain's garden. He rubs his nose every time he's there."

"He has allergies," Feyre chuckled.

Seren smiled and added a few strokes of charcoal paint onto the canvas. "Amren has this otherly feeling about her. She is High Fae, and yet, she isn't. She carries herself with power."

"Amren wasn't always High Fae. She was Made. She used to be a very powerful being contained in the body of a High Fae. Her true form was released during the war with Hybern. She broke the Cauldron during her release. Rhys and I managed to fix it, but..." Feyre broke off, a haunted look filling her eyes.

Seren paused and set her brush down. "What happened?"

"Fixing the Cauldron drained his magic. It killed Rhys. He was brought back thanks to the power of the other High Lords, just as I was Under the Mountain. He had seen Amren moving on to the afterlife during the Cauldron's healing and he offered her a hand, to see if she wanted to come back. She did, and now she's wholly High Fae. The echo of what she once was will always be with her, even though she no longer possesses that power."

"I never knew the Cauldron broke," Seren replied. "My father fought with all of you during the war with Hybern, but I was still at home. When he returned, he only told me the basics of what had happened."

Seren began rubbing her hands together, thinking it over. My father knew all of these people long before I did. He fought with Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian. Feyre and Mor too. He probably saw Elain drive Truth-Teller through the king of Hybern's neck. Father likely saw Nesta after she beheaded him. He would have seen Amren in her true form.

Seren shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to share the memory of the Inner Circle with her father. In a way, it felt like they were hers, and if he had also known them, he had stolen yet another precious thing from her.

"I'm sorry. That was a dark story and I didn't need to break your concentration," Feyre murmured.

"Don't be sorry. I want to learn." Seren picked up her brush and set to work once more.

"I think you have Lucien and Azriel to do yet."

"Hm. Lucien sounds like rustling leaves."

"You mean when he moves or when he talks?" Feyre arched an eyebrow.

"When he moves," Seren clarified. "I'm not sure if it's his hair or feet that make him sound like that. As for Azriel..." she painted wisps of charcoal around the hand. "He hides his hands when he feels nervous or guilty about something. You can tell when he is upset too because his shadows fold around him."

Feyre nodded slowly. "You're very observant."

"What's something you've noticed about me?"

"You rub your hands a lot." Feyre took one of her hands gently and flipped it over. Calluses had begun to form beneath her fingers. "When you first arrived, you would rub your palms raw. I think that's part of the reason why your calluses developed quickly before you began training with a fake dagger."

"I see." Feyre released her hand and Seren continued to paint. She let the flaming hand appear in her mind, recalling her assignment from Rhysand.

"I've noticed that this shadow has been wrapped around your arm for a number of days now," Feyre said.

"Azriel and I made a bargain."

"Oh?"

Seren inched her flaming hand towards Feyre's shields. "As long as the shadow stays with me, a band of my fire will stay with him. The shadow hasn't left me very often since we made that bargain."

"That's interesting. Azriel's shadows always dance when you're around."

Seren grinned, still focusing on Feyre's shields. "His shadows seem to copy my flames. Azriel said it's because they're equals. Fire produces no shadow and his shadows produce no light. They're two halves of a whole."

"I'm glad he's connecting with someone else."

Seren knit her brows together. "Why did he stop pursuing Elain if he cared for her so much?"

Feyre bit her lip, rocking Nyx gently. "You can't tell Elain this," she sighed at last. Seren nodded her agreement. "Rhys ordered him to stop pursuing her."

"What? Why?" Seren tightened her grip around the paintbrush. I knew Rhysand had something to do with it!

"You know that Lucien and Elain are mates. Rhys didn't want Lucien to challenge Az to a Blood Duel. Tensions are high enough already and we need our Circle to remain united. If Az got in the way of Lucien and Elain's relationship, it could cause a lot of problems."

"This happened during the Winter Solstice, didn't it? Elain told me that they almost kissed, then Azriel pulled away and said he'd made a mistake. I asked him about it too, but he didn't tell me much."

"Yes, it was during the Winter Solstice."

Seren's flaming hand had nearly reached Feyre's shields. "Why would Rhysand let their relationship progress so far before telling Azriel to back off? He should've told Azriel that when he first started taking an interest in Elain."

"I don't know. I thought Az was getting over her. He's spent a lot of time with Gwyn ever since he began helping Cassian train some of the priestesses."

Seren gritted her teeth, splashing more red paint onto the canvas. She blended it into the yellow and orange that was already there. She couldn't explain the jealousy that had gripped her suddenly. Her flaming hand reached Feyre's shield. Seren dug her nails in and Feyre winced.

"Was that an assignment from Rhys?" Feyre asked.

"Yes. I was supposed to sneak up on you and find your shields."

"Well done." Feyre cocked her head curiously. "You're irritated?"

Seren let her flaming hand disappear. "I am, a little."

"Because of what Rhys did?"

"Yes." And because of her comment about Gwyn, for some reason. "I thought they were like brothers."

"They are. Rhys didn't mean to hurt Az. This was just something he had to do."

"I think it's something he should've thought out. He may have prevented tension between Azriel and Lucien, but now there's tension between himself, Azriel, and Elain." Seren set down the paintbrush. "And if Lucien senses that and thinks Azriel did something to Elain, then all of this was for naught." The shadow tightened its grip on her arm.

Seren stood and backed away, eyeing her painting. It was a hand covered in shadows and soot. Flames licked at its fingers and sparks trailed down the arm.

"Maybe you should tell Rhysand to sort things out with Elain and Azriel. I'm tired of seeing both of them hurting." Seren picked up the painting and left the studio. She heard Feyre close the door gently behind her.

Seren passed by the library once more. Lucien and Elain were still there, now speaking in hushed tones. She didn't pause to listen. She continued up to her own room.

Seren paused at her door and eyed Soulful Vision. There were a few nails above and below it. She hung the new painting just beneath it. "Burning Flesh," she said. A glimpse of her father's melted neck flashed through her mind. Seren entered her room and locked the door behind her.