While guilt settled in her gut for not working endlessly to figure out the portal, Hope had to admit she was happy she'd left the townhouse to see the city.
Velaris was gorgeous.
It was lively with people—children running about, laughing, and playing. However, it seemed that most of the people she could see were Fae. Very few had wings like Azriel's.
"Most of the city is a combination of different Fae from all walks of life," Rhysand answered the questions that must have shown on her face, "many of the Illyrians reside at camps up in the mountains. Most of whom are warriors."
Hope smiled, taking in the sights and scents. The sound of music drifting through. The ache in her chest reminded her she wasn't in the French Quarter- if it even still stood.
It was true, though. The streets of Velaris reminded her of her home, with art and music around every corner.
The walk to The Sidra was short enough, but it was enough time to notice how the people treated the group—all with respect, of course, but to a higher degree with Rhysand and Feyre.
"Are you royalty?" Hope asked as they entered the restaurant. The mouthwatering aroma of good cooking slammed her in the face.
Feyre wrinkled her nose as Rhysand chuckled.
"Feyre and Rhys are the High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court," Azriel explained softly by her ear. His smoky voice sent a tendril of goosebumps down her spine.
When they were seated at an elegant table on a balcony overlooking a mountain ledge, they began explaining the world she'd been dropped into. Hope listened intently, trying not to be distracted by the view to her right.
A bowl of something was set in front of Hope. She hadn't even remembered ordering.
"I hope it's to your liking." The woman who served them said before walking away, and Hope took a nonchalant first bite. She froze and stared down at the bowl of steaming heaven.
"Oh, shit."
Cassian let out a chortled laugh. "Fae food has a bit more flavor than other places might."
Nodding, she took another bite. "And I thought New Orleans knew its spices."
"New Orleans?" Feyre asked after taking her own bite of stew.
"My city," Hope answered, "Lousiana is the state, New Orleans is the city. Particularly, I live in the French Quarter. Velaris actually reminds me a lot of my own home. Only mine has more jazz and witchcraft."
Rhysand tilted his head in curiosity. "What's jazz?"
Grinning, Hope nodded. "If I ever get the chance, I'll show you."
They spent a very long time talking, drinking wine, and talking.
Hope rolled her eyes and smiled. "You really fly everywhere?" She asked skeptically.
"Well," Cassian smiled, "not everywhere. No one where you're from can fly?"
"I mean, we have technology to fly. Airplanes and whatnot, but not Batman style."
"Batman?" Feyre asked.
Hope nodded. "He's basically a masked vigilante who rocks people's shit for committing crimes. It's fictional."
"Oh, so he's from a book."
Contemplating, she nodded. "Sometimes. Books with pictures, but also imagine a flat object with moving pictures on it where you can watch him do these things."
Everyone exchanged a skeptical look, and she couldn't help but grin.
"Like I said, if I find a way back, I'll introduce you to the world of television."
Some of the stress had melted away with the laughter and wine. It was strange how she could have known a group of people for less than a day yet feel so at ease.
By the time they left the restaurant, Hope felt more like herself. They'd quickly declined her compromise of exchanging something for the meal, and though her pride was a bit wounded, she was grateful. The food in her belly had taken care of the nausea behind her eyes, and she had much more energy than before.
Just as they were exiting the restaurant, Azriel offered her his arm.
"Would you like to see more of the city?"
The sun was setting, bruising the sky with deep shades of purples and pinks. She nodded eagerly and looked around, then frowned. Why did she feel a sudden burst of happiness?
She shouldn't be happy.
Hope should have been crying in her pillow and working endlessly to return to the Quarter and make sure her friends and family were okay—alive.
It seemed Azriel noticed her hesitation. He brushed his fingers lightly against the back of her hand.
"Or we can return to the townhouse," she looked at him as he continued, "and we can keep searching."
Fuck.
Hope hated the feeling that ensnared her chest. She should want to do nothing but read and search, yet a part of her wanted nothing more than to stroll the city with Azriel. To go where he wanted to take her.
How could she be so heartless not to do everything she could to return home?
"I need to keep searching." Hope finally managed to say, though it was like scalding water in her mouth.
Azriel merely nodded and offered a soft smile. "Would you like to try winnowing?"
Winnowing- oh, yes, the term Cassian had used earlier at night.
"Hell, yes." That sounded like an adventure on its own.
Hope forgot they hadn't indeed been alone when Feyre warned. "It's best to keep your eyes closed the first few times."
"Feyre does prefer it in darkness."
Feyre reached to smack Rhysand's shoulder, but he suddenly disappeared with a laugh. She followed only a moment later, a playful scowl etching her features.
"Ready?" Azriel asked with a smirk, offering his arms to her in what appeared more like a hug.
Without hesitation, Hope moved into his arms and looked up at him.
"You know, this is a very precarious situation you've put me in."
To that, Azriel's smirk widened to a grin, and he wrapped his arms firmly around her waist. Hope didn't miss the way he tugged her to him with a little more force, then they were suddenly pulvolting through smoky darkness.
A moment later, Hope looked around to see they were back in the townhouse. Her head spun as if she had been on the tilt-a-whirl but beamed as she barked a laugh.
"Woah. Head-rush. I like it."
"Of course you do." Nesta's voice came from the couch.
Hope twisted to look at her, as Azriel hadn't yet let her go, and smiled.
"Aw, so nice for you to see me."
Rhysand let out a howl of laughter.
Nesta narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth before sticking her nose back into her book.
What seemed too long and too quick of time, Azriel let her waist go as Cassian and Mor appeared in the townhouse next.
"Alright," Cassian clapped his hands, "let's open a portal."