“Az, relax for a minute,” Cassian drawled, waving a hand. “Have some wine. Cookies.” “Take off your coat,” I added, pointing the bottle toward the shadowsinger, who hadn’t even bothered to do so before fixing our mess. Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. “It’s almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.” Cassian clutched at his heart. “We take offense to that.” Azriel sighed at the ceiling. “Poor Az,” I said, pouring myself another glass. “Wine will make you feel better.”
