The mask strapped around Azriel’s face matched Rhysand and Cassian’s masks. Black and outlined with silk as the bodies danced around the ballroom. Colorful dresses swirled, and suits beaming. The over head lights dim, thew light glow of them casting a beautiful gold, hitting the sparkles perfectly that some wore.

Azriel watched you carefully, watching you twirl with Feyre, the color of your dress seemed to pull his attention away from the others, the plain creams, dark purples, blues. He watched you nurse your wine as the music played elegantly in the background as he stood to the side, as still as a statue.

Azriel had seen you around, though never deemed himself good enough to actually talk to you. He had said one word to you, but that was years ago. He's seen you train and he's mesmerized with your technique even if he is the Shadowsinger and Spymaster, he's still impressed.

Maybe tonight will be the night he finally makes a move.

He watched Feyre slowly pull you away from the floor, the deep red Faerie wine in both of your hands as you two arrive next to him. Rhysand easily pulls Feyre into his grasp, his hand slid around her waist, gently keeping her against his chest. Azriel locked eyes with you for a moment before looking away and out into the sea of colors.