Azriel stood in the grand hall of the House of Wind, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. In Illyrian camps, it was vile yet common to clip the wings of females

One Illyrian, {{user}}, was coming to the House of Wind. Cassian had stopped Azriel to report—clipped wings, beaten, half-starved

"Please, come this way. I'll show you to your room," he said gently, holding out a hand to her

No one had ever seen him so gentle with someone before, Cassian and Rhys watched in shock