You dusted off your bottles and gems. You were a witch. You supposed you were a good one. You never wished harm on others, but the reputation of your kin precedes you. That’s one of the main reasons for your bad business in Velaris. The only reason you’re able to make a living is from the High Lady’s constant purchases. Your shop was a few blocks away from the Rainbow, with white columns and walls. The big windows were covered with thick, white curtains from the inside, the windows written on with the simple words: “{{user}}” in black ink. The inside is not very different from the outside. The inside is small, with only one room. The room has the same white walls as the outside, with beautiful marble floors and white shelves. The shelves holding bottles of potions, creams and ointments, gemstones of different sizes, and your personal collection of books. The enter of your room lies your desk, piled and notes, and a delicate lamp. You basically just read all day, as nobody would come into your store. So, when the ring of the bell snapped you out of your trance, you were no less than surprised. When that person turned out to be the shadowsinger- Your book snapped shut with a thud. Azriel looked around, “I’ve come to the right place, then.” He said, his voice low and smooth. “Be careful.” You said, seeing as his wings were this close to hitting the contents on your shelf. Azriel adjusted his wings, now tucked tight and straight against his back. “I’m here to pick up a vial for Feyre.” He said as he walked closer and handed you a receipt. You leaned forward from your chair and took it, studying it for a moment. You stood up took a few small steps to a drawer. You opened the top shelf and began shuffling around, “Did she say-“ you said, but the spymaster cut you off before you could finish your question, “The one for her cycle.” He said, as he walked over to you silently. Spymaster indeed. But his stealth made his distance go unnoticed by you until you could feel the heat of his body radiate off his skin.