I don't know how much time passed. I was just thankful for the soft lull of warmth that engulfed me as I came around, the familiar plushness of mattress and blankets. I opened my eyes and blinked, staring quizzically at the bed's gossamer canopy. I couldn't quite recall what's happened, or how I'd ended up so snugly in my bed. All I knew was that my lungs hurt, and I felt extremely tired.

"You're awake!" squeaked a familiar voice. Slowly, I turned my head, eyes widening.

"Raina?"

The girl gave me a grave nod, her emerald eyes torn between caution and relief as she set down a silver tray. There were many goodies on it -- sweets, cakes, orange juices. Looking at it made my mouth water, but at the same time, the thought of eating made me nauseous. She followed my gaze.

"Azriel sent you those," she muttered. "He visited a little while ago."

I frowned. Azriel visiting me and sending me food? After everything I'd done to offend him? "Raina, what's going on?"

The blonde hesitated. "You had an anxiety attack and passed out," she informed me. "Zion was near hysterics. He thought you were dying. And Azriel, he..."

Her voice trailed off, mouth falling shut. Her eyes darkened.

"...he?" I prompted.

Raina swallowed. "He was furious."

The room spun. I opened my mouth to ask why, but it seemed the girl was already a step ahead. "After Zion had told him what'd happened, what you'd said, he'd called everyone to adjourn at the dining hall. He stood before us all, and Kyra, he--"

She shook her head, leveling her gaze with mine. "Kyra, I've never seen him so angry. He looked about ready to tear someone in two."

I swallowed. I could never imagine Azriel holstering such wrath.

"He yelled at us, saying that we all ought to get our act together and treat you with some respect. He warned us that, from this point forward, no one is to treat you with any form of disrespect -- not so much as look at you the wrong way. He told us that if he heard a peep of someone breaking the rule, he wouldn't hesitate to throw them out the court."

My heart dropped. Throw them out of the court? For my sake? It didn't make sense. 

"But why?" I asked, voice barely audible over the wind whistling through my window. Raina let out a long breath.

"Something snapped in him, Kyra. I'm no psychological expert, but I think just seeing how the court's treatment had affected you... it broke him. He's not been himself since."

Raina shrugged, trying to feign indifference. But nothing could mask that darkness in her eyes. She was deeply disturbed, and I could understand why. Azriel had always been a peaceful, calm-spoken leader. For him to lash out on the entire court like that...

For my sake...

Something deep within me stirred at the thought, a strong emotion I couldn't quite pin. I dismissed it. I recalled what he'd told me weeks ago, how he had only so much control over the court. Had he lied? And if so, why?

I turned to look at Raina. She looked on the verge of tears now, biting her bottom lip to the point it blanched. Maybe he hasn't lied. Maybe he was telling the truth. He could only control his court to a certain extent — if he used peaceful methods. If he really wanted to control them, he could use his wrath, and when he did this was the result.

I cleared my throat, not quite knowing what to say.

"But Azriel hates me now." It certainly wasn't that — and I wished I could take the words back when Raina gave me a bemused look, almost impatient look.

"What? Kyra, have you gone mad? He does not hate you — not one bit"

"But we argued a week ago," I stammered. "I upset him. After that, he hadn't even bothered to look my way, and I—"

I fell silent, hating the sting in my eyes. I hated how Azriel's silence had affected me so much. God, I was nothing to him — so why should he mean so much to me?

Raina shook her head, golden locks cascading across her shoulders with the motion. "You're wrong, Kyra," was all she said, standing to leave. Once she reached the door, she stopped, half-turning to face me. "Azriel will be visiting again. Prepare for his visit."

Her voice was deadpan; cold, almost. Before I could ask her what was wrong, she left.