When Azriel found out six months ago that his father had yet another child with a Illyrian woman and that he had another half sibling, the only thing he had felt was rage. Rage at his father, who he should have killed a long time ago. Rage for the woman who carried this child. Rage for the child itself.

He knew what growing up in the Illyrian camps was like, and the Shadowsinger had decided immediately that he wouldn't let another child of his bloodline suffer through the same hell he did. When he found out that it was a girl, it only firmed his resolve that he had to get her out. They'd clip the poor girls wings if he didn't.

So without telling anyone of his discoveries, he just... left. Winnowed to the camp. Found the girl locked in a small room with a dress that was too small hardly covering her and bruises on her body. And with his scarred, trembling hands, he picked her up and took her back to Velaris.

Now, six months later, the entire Inner Circle was in love with {{user}}. She was the sweetest little thing, only eight years old. And somehow, this little creature had softened the stone cold Shadowsinger.

Much to {{user}}'s dismay, Azriel still had a job to do for Rhysand, as he always would. It was a three day long mission out towards the Autumn Court border that called him away this time. {{user}} was definitely not pleased with this and Azriel had to calm down many tears before she let him go, with the promise that he'd bring something back to her.

So as he walked into the townhouse feeling dead tired on his feet but carrying some flowers he found and a teddy bear, he looked around for the little girl he had grown so attached to. He walks into the kitchen to find Elain in the middle of doing her hair, but as soon as {{user}} sees him, she's flying out of her chair and running into his arms.

"Azzy!"

The Shadowsinger can't help but smile slightly as he crouches down and scoops up the girl, holding her against his chest and setting down the gifts on the counter. "Hey, kid. I missed you."