Formidable Gems

by FreshlyCutGrass

Summary:

SEQUEL TO "SHATTERED OPAL" - ACOMAF AND ACOWAR ALTERNATE EVENTS

Feyre Archeron is back in the Spring Court against her will. As a spy, she is now is separated from Rhys and her family, all alone in enemy territory. Brimming with powerful new magic as the High Lady of Night, she will try to stop Tamlin and Hybern from waging all out war.

Notes:

Thank you all for the love and support on the first half of this series, "Shattered Opal." What started as a simple one-shot has blossomed into a beautiful series that you all enjoyed so much, that I decided to continue writing through the events of "A Court of Wings and Ruin."

You will need to read SO in order to understand the events taking place in this alternative take, even though it is still a general ACOWAR re-write.

Chapter 1: Blood Vial and Bargains

“A pathetic, human girl,” Amarantha purred from her elegant throne. “You really thought you could destroy us?”

In her hand was the dagger I used during my final trial to kill those two faeries. Amarantha’s long, pointed fingernails now held the knife to Mor’s throat. A trickle of blood from where the blade dug into her flesh dribbled down her chest to mix with the red silk of her dress.

To my left, three of the most important males in my life struggled against the thick, blue slate chains belonging to the King of Hybern. This was my second trial all over again.

Cassian’s wings were shredded. Azriel’s blood was pooling under his boots. Lucien thrashed against the restraints, searching desperately in the crowded throne room for a sight of Elain.

“Feyre, I’m sorry, tell Nesta that I’m sorry,” Cassian croaked as the spikes inched closer to them. “I was supposed to protect them. I broke my promise to her.”

Behind me, I could hear Rhys roaring. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t feel him on the other side of our bond. I could only hear the panicked screams of my mate, desperately clawing to try and get away from the Attor.

Tamlin stood at the base of the dais in front of Amarantha, dressed in the same attire he had worn for our wedding day.

I realized that this gruesome display was not another trial Under the Mountain, nor was it a mission to the secret room in Hybern's castle where the Cauldron was held.

This was a wedding. Everyone was dressed in High Fae finery, elaborate robes and gowns just like we’d worn to Starfall. And this wedding was mine.

Back in that hideous white bridal gown, it wasn’t a riddle I had to solve during this trial.

No.

It was the Book of Breathings that I was frantically trying to recite from.

The King of Hybern and Ianthe stood beside Tamlin, ready to officiate the ceremony.

A ripple of fear lodged in my throat again, just as it had done when I stood at the base of that rose-lined aisle all those months ago.

Doomed. Afraid. Alone.

My family, all on the brink of death. About to be executed in vicious and gruesome ways unless I wed Tamlin, unless I recited those sacred vows I had made to Rhysand only days ago inside Velaris's Holy Temple.

All eyes were on me.

When I looked down at the Book, resting in my hands, it began to speak to me again.

“High Lady of the Night Court,” it groaned in that decrepit, ancient candor. “You have failed.”

And then it burst into flames.
__________________________

I bolted upright so violently, I slipped off the edge of the bed and tumbled in a mess of sheets to the ground.

Sobs tore through my body as my stomach clenched and vomit spilled out onto the elaborate rug.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark.

I wasn’t in my bed in the townhouse, clouded in the scent of Rhysand. I wasn’t at the House of Wind or the Illyrian stone cottage. I wasn’t at the Moonstone Palace or the mountainside cabin where my mating bond had been sealed.

No. I was back in my own personal hell.

An odious room of gaudy decadence, a display of wealth so ostentatious that even Amren would scoff.

The Spring Court.

With a wave of my hand, I banished the sick from the floor. My body rocked with shivers despite the humid and stale Spring air. I tugged the duvet off the top of the bed and trudged myself over to the veranda doors, throwing myself out into the night.

This wasn’t my usual bedroom. My guess is that Tamlin had destroyed that one during a fit of uncontrollable rage when I left. He didn’t admit to that, of course. Yesterday, when he led me back inside the manor, he shyly explained that my room was simply no longer available and I would now be staying in a state room across from Lucien.

I plopped myself onto one of the lounge chairs on my stone balcony and willed myself to take several deep breaths.

My chest eased slightly now that I was under the stars once more, my magic calmed by the sky I was now bound to. But it didn’t look the same. Realistically, I knew these were the same stars I had spent months studying in Velaris. But they seemed duller here, further away. They did not sparkle or gleam brightly, there was no vast array of colored polar lights drifting off the mountain tops.

The night sky was stunted here, lackluster.

Just like me.

My breathing eased after a few minutes outside. The taste of vomit thickly coated the inside my mouth, so I spat some residue onto the stone floor.

I felt his chuckle before a beautiful black talon stroked down my mind, taunting me.

“Yes, spit all over his manor, that will show him,” Rhys said teasingly into my mind when I dropped my shield for him.

Beside me on the side table, a glass of water and a few peppermints appeared with a swift star-flecked breeze that smelled like my husband.

Tears welled in my eyes immediately.

“Oh, darling,” my mate sighed as he felt my mood shift.

His voice was quieter than it typically was when we spoke mind-to-mind, most likely due to the sheer mass of land now separating us. It was like he was almost shouting across Prythian, down the bond that was now tucked deep within me.

With a trembling hand, I slowly drank the glass before popping one of the candies in my mouth, letting the bright mint flavor cleanse the aftertaste of sick.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhys asked quietly, referring to whatever vestiges of my nightmare he had been able to detect down the bond while I slept.

I wanted to show it to him, relay the horrifying dream back to him so I could absorb in his comfort and kind words. But I also knew that Rhys would come get me the moment I asked him too. He would swoop in with an entire Illyrian legion if he felt like he needed to, if I couldn’t handle it anymore.

But I couldn’t leave. Not yet.

There was too much to do and the wounds were much too fresh, physically and mentally.

I scanned the manor for anyone nearby and, once I determined I was truthfully alone on this balcony and away from prying eyes, I dropped the glamour on my right hand.

The sight of my Illyrian tattoo, a symbol of triumph and glory, reinvigorated my momentum. I was the High Lady now. I could do this.

“No, I don’t,” I told my mate. “I miss you. I just want to hear your voice.”

“I miss yours,” Rhys responded, sending a trickle of affection down the bond. “Do you see that bright star, just above you? In that constellation that looks like a cup?”

I let my eyes wander until I spotted the dim outline he was showing me through my own gaze.

“That point there,” his deep, calming voice radiated through my skull. “That star points north. No matter where you are, if you can see that star, you know the direction home.”

Home.

The word made my stomach turn again. My beautiful home, where I felt safe and loved. My family and my friends, who welcomed me with open arms and showed me all that life had to offer. The people of Velaris, with their generous smiles and delicious food and kind words.

I might never see it again.

Rhys forcibly interrupted my negative train of thought by showing me our living room. He was sprawled on the couch in front of the fireplace, which was nothing more than dying embers. The townhouse was quiet but he let his senses fill the space between our mental shields. I would see the sights, hear the sounds, even smell the lingering toasty scent of my mate’s longtime residence.

“Why are you on the couch?” I asked, eyeing his socked feet through his eyes.

“Why do you think?” Rhys responded, almost embarrassed.

Because our bed smells like me.

Because the room we had only shared briefly still hung heavy with my scent, my clothes, my reminders. His mother's sapphire ring, which I had only worn for a few days, was sitting back in a jewelry box on my nightstand, where I had intended to retrieve it after we returned from Hybern.

“When you come home, we’re downsizing to a smaller bed,” Rhys said lightly. “That way, you’ll be forced to sleep directly on top of me.”

His attempt at humor worked and a sad, watery laugh escaped my lips.

I would give anything to be curled up on that couch with him again, to let out legs tangle together on that leather. Just like the first time we rested together after we returned from the Summer Court, the first time either of us had slept through the night in months.

The night that Tamlin murdered all of his sentries.

The memory brought me reeling out of the illusion we were painting for ourselves in our minds. I blinked my eyes open and looked around, taking in the pollen-infested air and stale grass scent of Spring.

Where had he done it? In the barracks, where his guards slept, played cards, and wrote home to their families. Was it in front of the manor, so all of the servants and staff could witness his fit of fury? Was it in the rose garden below this very balcony? The garden was a mating gift from his father to his mother, who were killed in this very house by my father-in-law because of Tamlin’s deep betrayal.

Rhys said nothing as he felt me flicker through a variety of emotions—hate, disgust, anger, homesickness.

“Say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” he said.

“I know,” I told him. “I know you’ll save me when I need you too. But right now, it’s too dangerous.”

Hybern legions had already landed on the shores of Spring, setting up camps along the sea. Several of the king’s commanders were expected to arrive at the manor any day now to begin the preparations for dismantling the wall. Under the agreement Tamlin had made, I was obligated to help them, against my will.

The scent of my mating bond was unchanged, despite the brilliant display of acting I had done within the last 48 hours. Tamlin hoped that it would fade with time, that Rhysand’s scent would eventually waft away the more time I spent in the gardens.

I hadn’t elaborated on why my scent was now forever different. I hadn’t offered up any explanation on what had happened to me the last few months, where I was, what I was doing.

Tamlin wasn’t stupid. He could see the color that had returned to my cheeks, the fullness that now hung on my figure — a lightening strike pointing directly to the happiness of being a mated female in a court surrounded by love, spicy food and Illyrian weapons training.

I offered noncommittal grunts and sighs when he tried to tactfully broach the subject. I told him I couldn't speak yet to what had happened to me.

I knew that doing so would basically insinuate that my mate had raped me or held me hostage as a slave. The insane concept nearly made explode in fury but Rhys had reassured me that it was a brilliant strategy, allowing the assumptions of his reputation to proceed him. He did not care and even encouraged me to keep up the facade last night when I told him about my first day back whilst in the bath. But the injustice of it made my flames burst from my skin—I had almost boiled my own skin off.

Pre-Mountain Feyre. That’s who I needed to be right now.

I could not pretend to be that docile and fragile shell of a bride. But I also couldn’t be the righteous and furious Night Queen that I was now. I needed to lean on my human instincts for survival, the ones that had led me to my mate and kept me alive thus far.

My first two days were spent outside, laying in the grass, reacquainting myself with the sights and sounds of Spring…and of the schedules and rotations of the guards. I had let Tamlin hold my hand at dinner and walk me to my chambers but I pulled away when he leaned in for a kiss.

“I need time,” I had lied, forcing myself to rest a hand on his chest over his frantically beating heart. “I’m just so confused and overwhelmed by everything. Just…be patient with me, please, my love?”

I envisioned the dagger I had pointed at his heart Under the Mountain. The dagger I had hovered over his skin when he stormed the Summer Court.

Taking a page from my mate’s handbook, I vowed to myself that I would fight dirty. I would manipulate, torture or kill whoever I needed to. I would be scrappy and tough and resilient, like I was when I first arrived in Prythian. I would do everything and anything necessary to return to him and the rest of my family.

Tamlin was dutifully reassuring and sweet, telling me that he would help in me through my “trauma” in anyway possible. He had been apologetic about his deal with Hybern, insistent that he would find a way to wield everything to his advantage.

He didn’t want the Wall to fall, he told me in the dark of the manor hallway. He didn’t want to see humans harmed. But he was not bound by the confines of a magical bargain so Hybern commanders needed to set up station here immediately.

“Things will be different this time, Feyre, I promise you,” Tamlin said. “You can sit in on every meeting, read every piece of correspondence I get — even the grocery list.”

He said it with a teasing smirk and I forced myself to snort out a bit of laughter, like I was charmed by him.

“I want you to feel safe here again, even with Hybern around. The wards are stronger,” Tamlin said. “And I know you—I know you like to be informed and aware of your surroundings. So I promise you, I am an open book now. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” I repeated solemnly as I watched him raise the knuckles of my right hand to his mouth. He pressed his lips over the disguised swirls of my Illyrian wedding tattoo.

As I sat under the skies now, staring at the blue-black markings, I grinned slowly to myself.

I was full of secrets now. And Tamlin was going to learn that he had fucked with the wrong High Lady.

“Give me the rundown of today,” I peppered Rhys, settling back onto the settee and wrapping my duvet tightly around my legs.

“Your sisters are still alright, for the most part,” my husband answered dutifully. “Mor coaxed Elain to eat some new fruits that she had never had before. Nuala and Cerridwen have been cooking up a storm, trying to make anything that would appeal to both of them. They were able to sleep some more last night though. Physically, they’re both fine.”

I took a deep breath. He continued.

“Mor traveled to Day and Summer today to meet with Helion and Tarquin, to give them the brief overview of what happened,” Rhys said. “They’re mobilizing their forces in case there is any Hybern troop movement too close to the border. Both have personally offered themselves up in the event that—“

He cut himself off with what sounded like a sob, but I knew what his next words would be.

In the event that I was found out and I needed to be evacuated out of Spring before Tamlin or Lucien killed me.

In the event that three High Lords of Prythian would need to come to my aid.

“They’re both good males,” I said quietly, thinking of Tarquin’s gentle eyes and good nature. I had never met Helion properly Under the Mountain, but I had heard enough stories from Rhys and the Inner Circle to know their alliance rang deep and true.

“Az’s network of spies has also found your father on the continent,” Rhys continued. “He is under guard now as well, although he doesn’t know it.”

I shuddered at the thought of my father returning home to that estate in our village, finding it empty and ransacked from when my sisters were kidnapped.

My stomach rolled again.

“Azriel’s wounds have closed and Madja thinks he will officially be on the mend within a few days.”

Another deep breath.

He saved the bad news for last.

“Cass—“ Rhys’s voice choked up painfully and I sent a wave of calm down to the bond to him, trying to wrap him in a mental hug.

“It will take some very complex work on the part of Madja and her team of healers to finish setting his wings,” Rhys said softly. “They’ve got him strapped into this elaborate wooden structure to keep his wings up and immobilized.”

I grimaced at the thought of Cassian lying in my old bed at the townhouse, sedated and restrained by an intricate device.

“They’re not sure if they will be able to save them. There’s a strong chance he will live but potentially without—“ Rhys stopped himself from continuing.

What was the point of living if an Illyrian male lost his wings?

My gaze drifted over to the empty water glass as I put another peppermint in my mouth. The surface glistened under the moonlight and I lifted it, turning it over in my hands. The sleeve of my sleep shirt drifted down to my elbow and the blue vein on my forearm surfaced.

“My blood,” I said quietly out loud.

“My blood," I repeated mentally in my head to Rhys. “Remember when I healed you with my blood? Remember how Cassian joked that I should bottle it and sell it for its healing properties?”

My heart hammered frantically in my head as I felt Rhys shift through my plan.

“Feyre,” he breathed. “Are you sure?”

“Send a bottle over right now,” I barked at him. “And a knife.”

Instantly, the water glass disappeared and was replaced by a small apothecary bottle with a stopper. A small Illyrian blade landed on the table with a gentle clink.

I was purposefully trying not to use magic here so no one could smell the pear scent of my darkness. But I couldn’t risk anyone scenting my blood so I threw a quick shield around me effortlessly.

I had only been High Lady for three days but it seemed like my magic came to me instinctually now.

Rhys watched on nervously as I drew the blade across my palm, catching the ruby red droplets in the glass.

“I hope this works for him too,” I told Rhys as I squeezed my hand into a fist, coaxing more blood out. “The Suriel never technically said anything about this healing other people beyond you, my mate. But the healing magic of Dawn should extend to others.”

“I’m sure it will work,” Rhys said with a deeply content sigh. “It healed me almost instantly, remember?”

My palm began healing quickly as I capped the now full-bottle and placed it back on the table. Rhys summoned all of the evidence away immediately.

“Go, give it to him now,” I demanded. “Signal when it’s done.”

“I will, thank you, darling,” Rhys breathed deeply. “You’re absolutely brilliant. I love you.”

“I love you more. Now, go. Tell Cassian he’s not allowed to die. That’s my first official order as High Lady.”

Rhys laughed and sent a wave of affection down the bond so powerful, it almost felt like he was here caressing my hair.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rhys whispered and I felt him drop back behind his shields.

I stood from my seat and paced the length of the small veranda, anxiously awaiting news.

As much as Cassian needed the healing properties in my blood, I needed this. A plan. Something to do. Something that I could contribute to that made me feel useful, that gave me motivation to keep going.

Tugging at my fingers almost painfully, I held my breath and waited.

The ecstatic tug of joy from Rhys several minutes later made my knees tremble so forcefully, I collapsed back down onto the lounge chair. The sobs came quickly, choking all of the air out of my throat.

Cassian would live. My brother, my friend, my confidant. He was safe. I healed him, all the way from the Spring Court, with just a few drops of my blood.

“He says his High Lady need to come back and whoop his ass back into shape,” Rhys told me down the bond. I could hear the laughter and the tears in his frantic voice, could sense the wild movements of Madja and the other healers moving around the room.

I laughed out loud again, letting the hot tears of relief stream down my cheeks.

“Can’t wait,” was I could respond.

I let my tense muscles unfurl under the duvet, settling back under the night sky as a dreamless sleep finally claimed me.
_______________________

The early morning sun was already hot and bright on my face when I woke several hours later. I had an arm flung over my eyes, blocking out the rays as I became consciously aware of the knocking on my bedroom door.

I groaned as I pulled my stiff body off the lounge chair, which was arguably not comfortable enough to sleep in. But I was less groggy and frantic that the panicked state my nightmare had left me in.

Entering my chambers again, I tossed the blanket back onto the bed and went to open the door.

Lucien greeted me on the other side, quirking one side of his mouth up in a coy smile.

“Morning,” he said. “Did you sleep alright?”

I gave a non-committal shrug and opened the door wider for him in invitation.

“Fine,” I said simply. “What time is it?”

“Early,” Lucien offered. “Tamlin already left for the day.”

I pretended to pout.

“Why? Where did he go?”

“To the coast, to meet with his commanders as more Hybern fleets start to arrive.”

Unconsciously, I flinched.

“You didn’t go with him?” I asked casually, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed.

“No,” Lucien said stiffly. “I volunteered to stay behind and keep you company.”

“That’s kind of you,” I told him. “What shall we do today? Go riding? That sounds lovely.”

“No,” he repeated, stepping closer to me. “We’re going to talk about what the fuck really happened in Hybern and why the fuck you have a new tattoo.”

My heart skipped a beat as I watched his golden mechanical eye whizz down to my right hand.

Rapidly, I cycled through a million options of what to do right now. Lucien was a High Lord’s son, so he was strong, fast, and skilled in combat. We were both unarmed, as far as I could tell.

Damn it, I should have told Rhys to leave the Illyrian weapon behind. I should have hidden it in my chambers, in case of an emergency like this.

There was no part of me that wanted to fight my friend, even as the sting of betrayal seeing him in Hybern flooded back in my mind. It was too early to flee. It would raise too many suspicions, cause even more eyes to look towards the Night Court at a time when Hybern ships were sailing toward Prythian.

I could deny whatever accusation he was about to hurl my way.

I could explain away whatever he thought he knew.

Only a few baited breaths had passed but I decided to focus on the one thing I knew for sure — Lucien looked like shit. He had dark circles under his eyes, he was nervous and fidgety. A line of red stubble was growing on his jawline.

He looked like a male who had been forcibly separated from his mate.

Much how I imagined Rhys looked during his first few days back in the Night Court after I was Made.

As much as I hated using my sister as leverage, Elain’s mere existence could be a matter of life and death for me right now.

I threw another shield around the room, one strong enough that even he could sense it. No eyes or ears could catch wind of this conversation.

“What can that thing see anyway?” I eventually asked him.

My tone was no longer friendly or generous. It was cold and dry. The voice of a queen.

“A tattoo, one you’re trying to magically hide,” he said stonily. “Identical to the other one, even though the king removed it.”

“And?”

Lucien stared as me in a daze, his eye taking in everything about my appearance.

“And I want to know what it means,” he choked. “I want to know what exactly you’re doing here.”

“I’m here because I love Tamlin and I was rescued.” The words sounded fake, emotionless. There was no point trying to keep up the facade any longer, not when he could see through my glamour.

“Don’t lie to me, Feyre,” Lucien snapped, nostrils flaring. “You asked me in Adriata to have your back, to support you on this. And that’s what I’ve been doing this whole time. Trying to stop Tamlin from going to the king, trying to stop him from slaughtering my friends.”

His voice croaked as my mind went to the sentries again.

“I begged him not to make that fucking deal but he didn’t listen to me,” Lucien continued, tugging his fingers roughly through his dark red hair. “He’s convinced you were under mind control. He cannot fathom a possibility that you could raise a dagger to him on your own.”

“He threatened my mate,” I said simply.

Lucien’s eyes snapped back up to mine in wonder.

“Your mate?” His voice was soft and childlike. “Really?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Rhysand is your mate?”

I nodded and basically watched Lucien’s face move through the stages of grief. To him, Rhysand was death incarnate. An evil king who ruled over the Court of Nightmares, despite what I’d implied in the Summer Court about my safety. Amarantha's whore.

“There’s a lot I could tell you about my time in the Night Court,” I said coldly. “A lot that you don’t know. A lot that would change every opinion you’ve ever had of him. But I don’t know if I can trust you with that information, not when I have so much at stake.”

The safety of my mate, my family — now all together, both blood family and found family — and the state of my people. I took a sacred vow to the defend the Night Court and I was already being put to the test.

“I also have a lot at stake,” Lucien swallowed thickly. “The Spring Court has been my home for centuries. I swore fealty to Tamlin, but he has crossed over into insanity. And now —“

“Now my sister is your mate and she is in the Night Court,” I said.

Lucien ran a thick hand over his face and sighed deeply. Had he slept at all since we returned from Hybern?

“Yes,” he breathed. “My mate—“

He seemed to choke on the words and his hand drifted absentmindedly to his chest, where he rubbed softly. The gentleness of his expression made my heart ache for him.

“You are separated from your mate,” I explained, reaching my own hand up to my heart. “I understand that ache. It is unbearable.”

Lucien’s breath stuttered and he shook his head in disbelief once more.

“I think we both want the same things,” I told him slowly, rising to my feet gently like I was approaching a fawn in the woods.

As tender as I felt without Rhys, I could still communicate with him. I knew he was safe, I knew where he was. Our golden mating bond, though cloaked and buried deep within my chest, was sealed, unbreakable and true. But Lucien had had his mate ripped away from him as quickly as he had found her.

For all he knew, she was locked up in the Hewn City.

“What’s that?” Lucien sniffed.

“We want to see our mates. And we want Hybern stopped,” I told him. “But I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help you accomplish those goals if you have sworn fealty to Tamlin, if you are serving the man to forcefully took me from my mate. How am I supposed to trust you?”

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Lucien offered and I bristled. He had a point.

I thought carefully for a moment, gazing down at my bare hands that looked so empty without my markings now.

“There’s something I could show you,” Lucien said after a few moments. “Something that would maybe prove how serious I am about working with you honestly. About getting to Elain and stopping Hybern.”

I watched him warily.

“What is it?”

“Come with me,” he said, turning to walk towards my door.

“Not unless we make a bargain,” I said, my voice cold as ice. Lucien stopped in his tracks, his leather boots snapping still on the tile floor. He did not look at me.

“We make a bargain, right now,” I continued, moving closer to him. “We agree that everything we say to each other, show each other, is completely confidential. We are a team, you and me.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t turn around.

“Technically,” I added in a soft voice. “You’re my brother.”

Lucien’s shoulders sagged and I heard his breathing tremble.

“And you’re my friend. And I want us to keep having each others' backs,” I told him. “A bargain would offer us a level of protection and security.”

“Would there be a tattoo?” He asked warily, turning to look at me with a nervous smile on his face.

“Oh yeah, something really awful that I’d write across your forehead,” I teased in a quiet voice. “Maybe I would make it look like a mask, just for old times’ sake.”

Lucien scoffed but I saw his muscles relax at my playfully demeanor.

“Please don’t,” he said with a groan. “I’m stressed enough as it is.”

“Do you agree to the terms?” I asked. “A pact of honesty and discretion between us. Nothing leaked to Tamlin or anyone else about what we’re planning to do. Obviously, I need to inform Rhys about certain things pertaining to the Spring Court, so he’s not included in these conditions. But what we say between the two of us regarding Tamlin and Hybern and Ianthe, for that matter, remains between us.”

After a few minutes of eyeing my right hand nervously, Lucien nodded. I felt a flicker of automatic magic on the inside of my left heel and I raised my bare foot to show him.

A small blue-black outline of a crescent moon, no larger than a grape, had been stamped on my foot.

“Oh, that’s cute,” I chirped happily. “I’m pleased with that.”

“A moon? Really?” Lucien scoffed, looking down at his boots. I wondered if his magical eye could see that inking through the thick leather too.

“In my defense, I didn’t really have any control over it to begin with,” I explained with a shrug. “I’m still learning how all of this magic works.”

“So you’ve been training your gifts then?” Lucien asked, his posture relaxing even more now that we were safely within the perimeters of our bargain.

I had my friend with me. I felt safe for the first time in days, like I could actually take a deep breath and focus on what I came here to do.

“Yes, all of them,” I told him, remembering how he had witnessed me fire and my talons. He had fought for me all those months ago, urging Tamlin to train me so my magic wouldn’t eat me up. He was on my side.

“How many do you have?”

“All of them.”

“What does that mean?”

“I possess the gifts of all seven courts, all seven High Lords,” I explained.

Lucien’s face paled.

“Fire just like you. Water. Wind. Ice. Healing. Shapeshifting from Tamlin,” I started ticking them off on my hands. “I’ve gotten pretty good at shields too from Day Court.”

“Yes, I remember you shattering them at the castle,” Lucien said. “And Night?”

“Rhys’s darkness, daemati abilities and my own specialty brand of darkness that I inherited when I was crowned High Lady.”

Lucien gasped and keeled over, clutching his knees with his hands as he spluttered about.

“High — what — when — how — High Lady?”

“Again, part of the long story I promised you I would tell you,” I said.

“You’re High Lady of the Night Court?” Lucien whispered.

I dropped the glamour on my wrist to properly show off my tattoo.

“I am,” I said seriously.

“I have a million questions,” Lucien stammered.

“And you can ask them after you show me what it is you wanted to show me,” I told him. “I told you something. Now you tell me something so we’re even.”

Lucien looked slightly green as he continued snapping his gaze between my tattoo and the top of my head, like he could envision a crown of stardust sitting atop my frizzy bedhead.

“Get changed, it’s in another wing of the manor,” he said simply, still rattled by my announcement.

I darted towards my wardrobe and dipped into my bathing room to change into a simple tunic and pair of pants. I yearned for the comfort of my Illyrian leathers that I had gotten used to training in everyday, but this attire was A) close to what I used to wear when I first came to Spring, before Ianthe arrived and started shoving me into dresses and B) easy enough for me to fight or run in, if I needed to.

Lucien lead the way through the familiar halls of the manor. I realized with a start that I didn’t recognize that many faces of the passersby. There were significantly less people here than before, almost similar to the days when I first arrived as a human and Tamlin had glamoured all of the courtiers.

Alis and her nephews were gone, safely evacuated to Summer. Dozens of sentries were killed in Tamlin’s rampage.

We turned down the corridor of the High Lord’s official residence.

“Lucien,” I breathed quietly as he stopped outside of Tamlin’s bedroom.

I had never been inside.

“We shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, but no one was around. The hallway was deserted.

“He’s not here but we’ll be quick,” Lucien said quickly as he turned the doorknob. “I’ll magic away our scents. But…It’s something you should know.”

Before I could object anymore, my friend walked through the doors to the High Lord’s private chambers.

All in all, it wasn’t too different from my room. Gaudy and ornate furniture, a massive four-poster bed with dark green hangings. A desk in the corner was crowded with paperwork, similar to our desk at home in Velaris.

Above the cold fireplace, one of my paintings of the rose garden — which I had done when I was still human — hung on the mantel.

I turned to Lucien to question about why he brought me here when I saw them.

Two sets of beautiful female Illyrian wings, mounted on the wall across from the window overlooking the beautiful grounds. Two sets of magnificent wings, one pair slightly smaller than the other. Both thin and delicate, like they had been hanging there and gathering dust for centuries.

I fell to my knees.

Chapter 2: Twisted Forks

Summary:

Feyre confronts Ianthe about what happened in Hybern, then she makes an interesting proposal to the High Lord of Spring.

Lucien caught my elbow and winnowed us out of Tamlin’s bedroom before the sob ripped through my throat. We landed in a grassy meadow in the woods, with the manor gates visible off in the distance. We were not too far away from the spot I first met Rhys on Calanmai.

I threw another privacy shield around us. Alone and away from prying eyes, my flames flicked off my palms as anger overtook me. I saw red.

Their wings. The wings of the Lady and Princess of the Night Court. Rhys’s mother and sister.

“Tamlin wanted to burn them,” Lucien said so quietly, I barely even heard him. “He was disturbed that they were in there. He didn’t even move into that room, which is where his mother died, for decades after. But it is the High Lord’s chambers and it was necessary eventually.”

My knees gave out under me again and I fell down into the grass, curling my body tightly around myself so my magic wouldn’t overtake me. The newfound damper on my magic, which Rhys had taught me to flick on and off like a button after my night in the temple, was threatening to break loose.

I practiced the breathing techniques Amren had showed me while Lucien continued, eyeing me wearily from where he stood on the other side of the clearing.

Keeping a safe distance.

“His father placed some kind of spell on them, to keep them there,” Lucien explained. “We think he used Day Court magic that he knew from Helion’s uncle. We have tried to remove them but they’re stuck there.”

I thought of Rhys, my beautiful mate. The pain he still felt, after all these centuries, at the loss of his family. Tamlin’s betrayal had done this. His friend had done this. And now, hundreds of years later, the bitterness and resentment still ran deep.

And I inherited it.

My mate hurt because of what Tamlin did and that resonated deep within me, to my bones and my very soul. Those women, they are my family. Their bodies — pieces of their corpses — were on a literal gruesome display in his bedroom.

In his fucking bedroom.

“Tam reached out to some Day Court scholars a few months ago. He was hoping they could either figure out how to break your bargain with Rhys, or at the very least, release the spell on the wings so he could offer them in exchange for your safe return.”

The thought made me gag.

I was quiet for a long time, stifling my rage deep within me so I wouldn’t alert Rhys that something was wrong. He couldn’t know, not yet. He had heard a rumor that the wings were in the manor, specifically in the study. I wonder if he looked for them through the eyes of servants the few times he had returned to Spring since that dreadful night when Tamlin’s family was murdered in revenge. The night when those two young males became High Lords.

“So you know,” Lucien said. “I wasn’t sure if he told you. I know Tamlin didn’t.”

“Why did you show me?”

“A peace offering,” he responded. “I know how loyal Night Courtiers are rumored to be. If Rhys really is your mate — and that wasn’t some bullshit trick Rhys was playing on you — then they are your family. And you have a right to know. Especially if you are the High Lady. They — “

He choked on his words for a moment, before simply adding, "They belong to you.”

I wiped the tears away from my face and looked up at my friend.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice still thick with emotion. I sent a wave of love down the bond for Rhys. He immediately sent one back, almost out of curiosity.

How badly I wished I could hug him right now.

“I could probably break it,” I told Lucien. “The spell. With the magic I got from Day Court. I was able to break those wards around Hybern.”

“Speaking of which,” Lucien said, sensing I had calmed down enough that it was now safe to come closer. He plopped down into the grass beside me. “I would like to hear the whole story, because I have a feeling it is juicy. Tell me everything.”

I chuckled as he made himself comfortable.

“I never pegged you for much of a gossip.”

“I’ve been dying to know what happened ever since we saw you in Adriata,” he said with an embarrassed smile.

So I told him. I explained how Mor had rescued me from becoming consumed by my magic the day Tamlin locked me in the manor. I skipped over Velaris, just out of an abundance of precaution, but told Lucien all about how Rhys’s Inner Circle brought me back to life. How I began to train magically and physically, because keeping busy was the best remedy for my never-ending depression after Under the Mountain.

He listened thoughtfully as I explained that we had gone to Summer Court to find something that could stop Hybern, the Book of Breathings, when Tamlin had stormed in.

“I didn’t know about the mating bond at the time,” I told him. “But it acted instinctually when Tamlin threatened him. That's why I stepped between them."

“I could not believe my eyes when you held that knife to him,” Lucien admitted. “I knew you were clever with a weapon, even as a human. But the precision and the speed you had — I knew you had been training.”

He seemed to ponder my words for a moment before the realization hit him.

“Wait, you didn’t know about the mating bond?”

I shook my head.

“Rhys didn’t want to startle me,” I breathed. “After everything I had been through, the version of himself that he concocted for the world to see — “

I wasn’t sure how to explain everything my mate had done for me, the lengths at which he tore himself apart just to protect everyone he loves.

“I was engaged, for Mother’s sake,” I continued. “I was going to marry Tamlin. And he was going to let me, if it would make me happy.”

I could see Lucien wrestling with himself in his thoughts. The monster that Rhys portrayed for the world, the villain who stole away the bride of Spring on her wedding day.

“He could hear me panicking through his daemati powers and the mating bond. He could hear me desperately wanting a way out as I was walking down the aisle,” I whispered, plucking a strand of grass and shredding it between my fingers. “I wasn’t ready. It was too soon. Ianthe had fucking covered the aisle in bright red roses, against my only request, and all I could see was the blood of the faeries I had killed.”

The whirl of Lucien’s mechanical eye landed on me.

“I was about two seconds from turning around and running away when he winnowed in,” I said. “It wasn’t his intention to come. He did because I needed him too.”

I went on, explaining how worried Rhys was for my health and safety during those next few months. How even after I remained in the Night Court permanently, he didn’t want to force anything on me.

“He wanted to tell me in his own way. I was falling in love with him the entire time we were together in the Night Court. He was going to tell me one day but we were attacked, me and him,” I said, my voice growing thick. “By Hybern soldiers, in Rhysand’s territory.”

Lucien stiffened. I couldn’t explain that we were flying, as my mate’s wings were a closely regarded secret that was not mine to tell.

“He was captured and I basically lost my mind.”

Lucien hummed understandingly and I felt a flicker of remorse for him. He had found his mate under unbearable conditions, only to be ripped away from her immediately.

“After I had killed them all and rescued him…That’s when I felt the bond flick into place on my end.”

Lucien’s breath caught in his chest at the casual yet menacing tone my voice took when I spoke of murder, so different from the crack I still felt from my third trial.

“When did it snap for Rhys?”

“Under the Mountain, after we were freed.”

“Shit,” Lucien sighed, pulling his long hair away from his face and knotting it into a bun that hung low at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah,” I sighed simply in response.

“Tamlin never stood a chance then?”

“None.”

Lucien whistled, low and slow.

After a few moments deep in thought, he turned to face me more.

“So, your majesty,” he said with a grin. "I’m technically supposed to bow to you now then?”

I laughed and tossed the shreds of grass I had made at his face.

“Yes, actually. How dare you,” I chirped back sarcastically.

“I’m going to need you to go in depth on that one,” Lucien said, stretching his long legs out and settling in further. “Because you declaring yourself High Lady actually sounds insane, like I need to lock you up because your sanity has finally cracked.”

“I can hardly believe it either,” I croaked.

I could still feel the weight of the crown on my head, the stone floor beneath my knees. Desperately, I wanted to flick off my damper and let myself become immersed in the powerful darkness now desperate to ripple off me.

Slowly, I explained the magic. How Rhys felt the disturbance in his lands, how it called to me so easily.

“I went through the same coronation ceremony that he did, that every High Lord of the Night Court has done for millennium,” I said wistfully, imagining the sound of Andromeda’s voice leading me through the vows. “My magic came to me at the end, just like it transfers between High Lords at the time of death.”

Lucien’s tan skin paled drastically. He was hanging on my every word.

“Why you? Why now? That has never happened before in all of Prythian’s history. Hell, that’s never happened before in the history of Faekind.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I don’t know why me. I don’t know how. It just is. The magic was undeniable. Rhys is my mate. I am his equal, in every way. That is the Cauldron’s doing. It was not my decision, nor Rhys's. It was the magic itself that decided."

His mouth opened and closed several times, like a gaping fish out of water.

“This magic is new, so it is essentially untraceable for the time being, unlike if I were to use traces of Rhysand’s magic, or the magic from the other High Lords,” I explained. “But I can’t use too much of it. Little traces here and there, I don’t think Tamlin will notice. But unleashing the actual power I now have, as a High Lady …”

“Would be an act of war,” Lucien finished soberly and I nodded.

“I swear, Lucien, I did not mean for this to happen. I had no intention of every coming back to this horrid place, with that horrid beast,” I said, tilting my head in the direction of the manor. “It was a spur of the moment decision, to act like the king had broken our mating bond. I made that offer in a split second, knowing it would grant Rhys time to get my family out safely when I broke the wards. It was an act of diversion, not one of malicious intent.”

I turned to face him fully and grasped his shoulders with my hands, urging him to look me in the eye.

“I mean no harm to the Spring Court or its people,” I swore to him. “I’m just trying to bide my time until I can safely go home. The more information I can gather on Hybern in the meantime, the better.”

My friend watched me for a long moment. We were beholden to the confines of our bargain, yes. But he could still tell I was being truthful.

Rhys had once told me that my emotions are displayed all over my face. One only needed to know where to look.

Tamlin never could read me properly. But Lucien could, magical eye or not.

“I know the answer to this question already, because I know you,” he said nervously. “But I had to ask it anyways, for my peace of mind.”

I nodded at him to continue.

“She’s safe?”

The question was so quiet, so timid, I felt my chest ache for him. Human Feyre probably would have bristled at the backwards insinuation that her sister was in danger, that she would let anything happen to Elain. But now, I understood. Now, the mating bond buried deep within me eased my nerves.

“Of course,” I respond gently, resting my hand on his tense forearm.

“I know how protective you are over your family, over the people you love. Look at all you did for Tamlin,” Lucien explained. “I just had to ask.”

“I understand,” I reassured him. “She’s safe. She’s probably in the safest place she could possible be on the planet. Rhys would defend my family until his dying breath.”

And I would do the same, I thought viciously, remembering the wings. I will protect his family too.

“I saw —“ Lucien’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat several times. “She was wearing an engagement ring.”

I wasn’t sure what answer was going to hurt more so I simply nodded, guessing that the least amount of details would probably be best right now. His mating bond was clearly running him weak.

Lucien’s breath puffed out of his chest in defeat.

“I just want to see her once,” he said sadly. “To see if she is worth fighting for.”
________________________

Tamlin found me in my art studio the next morning, nursing a cup of peppermint and licorice team that reminded me of Velaris.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to interrupt,” he said shyly, keeping his distance.

“Oh, don’t worry, you weren’t,” I said, pretending to fret over a canvas I had begun layering with hues of green. “I have no idea what I want to do with it yet, so I could probably use a distraction."

That was a lie. I was going to paint the bonfires in the woods at Calanmai. To anyone here in the manor, it would be a celebration of a Spring Court ritual. But it was also the night I had met my mate, unbeknownst to Tamlin.

“She’s here,” Tamlin said simply as I wiped the paint from my hands.

My movements slowed and I could feel him watching me with a shaky breath.

“I’m surprised she had the guts to show,” I said tightly. I perhaps tugged the knot of my apron out a little too forcefully and I willed myself to control my movements. Under his fierce gaze, I felt like a rabbit in the woods being stared down by a bear.

“She wants to apologize,” Tamlin supplied. “I think it is very noble of you for meeting with her.”

I came to stand at his side and gave his elbow a comforting squeeze. His green eyes lifted happily at the action.

“Then let’s hear what she has to say,” I gestured toward the doorway, hoping to get out of this room alone with him as soon as possible.

The first thing that popped into my head when I saw the High Priestess was not the friend who had stood by my side during all of those mindless Spring Court celebrations, the one who whispered names in my ear so I could greet each courtier and well-wisher personally as the future Lady of Spring.

No, I barely recognized the female who was once my closest friend. My closest companion, before I met Mor.

All I could imagine was her naked, spread eagle on my mate’s bed in the Court of Nightmares centuries ago. When Rhys literally threw her out onto her ass.

The image made me suppress a giggle and tugged on the bond, opening up the passageway between our minds so my husband could listen in. I felt his magic appear when he arrived, wrapping around me like a warm hug as he wordlessly eavesdropped through my eyes.

“Feyre,” she breathed as I sat down across the formal dining table from her. “How good it is to see you, safe and home once more. You look simply radiant today.”

“Kiss ass,” Rhys grumbled in my mind. "You look radiant every single moment of your life, but especially when you're at your real home."

“I wish to begin by saying how truly sorry I am,” Ianthe continued. “I acted out of a desire to…to grant what I believed you perhaps yearned for but did not dare voice. A chance to live your life in immortality with your sisters, without ever having to say goodbye to them. This option would grant you that peace, while also keeping our allies in Hybern ratified with our allegiance.”

My rage burned hot in my chest and Rhys sent a comforting stroke down the bond.

“My sisters were kidnapped in the middle of the night from the safety of their home,” I said coldly. “Fae soldiers stormed their bedrooms as they slept. Nesta and Elain were bound, gagged and blindfolded before they were dragged kicking and screaming into the King of Hybern’s castle.”

Lucien let out an involuntary groan of pain. Tamlin hung his head low in shame. Ianthe tried to avoid my gaze, but I stared her down.

“It is no secret how much I struggled after I was Made,” I continued, fiddling with the handle of my fork. “A big portion of that was the loss of my humanity, being stripped of my livelihood against my will. Losing autonomy over my own body, becoming the very thing I had been taught to hate my entire life.”

I sighed deeply and the sound trembled in the silent room. Tamlin’s gaze was practically burning holes in my skull but I powered through.

“I am grateful for my immortality now,” I continued, lifting my eyes to Tamlin to make it seem like I was talking about him when I really was saying the words to my mate. “But to think that I would want my sisters to endure that same fate — in such a horrifying and gruesome way — is completely inaccurate, Ianthe.”

Her eyes went wide with guilt.

“I made a grave mistake,” she continued. “I will always regret any pain I caused, but let us continue this good word together. Let us find a way to ensure our lands and people survive.”

“A mistake?” I seethed in disbelief. “My sisters were tortured because of you!”

“You need to attack me," Rhys said quietly into my mind. “Go after me, right now.”

I bristled at his words.

“It will look suspicious if you don’t express any concern for them right now, in this given moment. You need to vocalize how worried you supposedly are for them,” he continued.

He could sense my hesitation, even as tears gathered in Ianthe’s eyes. How could I speak ill of my mate?

“I know you don’t mean it, darling,” Rhys said teasingly. “I know what it's like when you're really ripping into me for something I've done. This isn't it. It’s time to put on a show, like we do in the Court of Nightmares.”

I didn’t care that the rest of the table was watching as I bent the fork I was holding in my fist.

“My sisters were tortured because of you and now that monster has them.” My voice cracked but for an entirely different reason than Tamlin or Ianthe could suspect.

I let my twisted fork clatter loudly to my plate.

“Gods, they must be terrified. They have no idea where they are or who they are with,” I continued. “Cauldron only knows what he is doing to them. What horrors that sick bastard must be inflicting on them at this very moment. He is probably punishing them because Tamlin rescued me and finally saved me from his grasp.”

“Good, keep going,” Rhys urged silently.

“I…I can’t even begin to describe what he put me through,” I breathed quietly, a mask of horror plastered on my face. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

Internally, Rhys chuckled and I could tell he was using all of his energy to keep from making a dirty joke about all he did to me.

“Your ‘mistake’ has brought nothing but unspeakable horrors to me and my family, Ianthe,” I finally spat.

“We will find them — “ Ianthe began desperately but I cut her off.

“You will go no where near my sisters ever again,” I ordered, the voice of a High Lady. “You have caused enough damage.”

I slammed both of my elbows onto the table so hard, all of our glasses rattled.

I wasn’t exactly acting when I sighed deeply and put my head in my hands. Rhys and I talked every night so I knew my sisters were settling in as best as they could in Velaris, but they barely knew my Inner Circle or Rhys or anything about Prythian. I remembered how scared I was as a human, those first few days in Spring.

“We will find them, my love,” Tamlin vowed seriously. “I promise you.”

It seems like Lucien, who had been silently glaring at Ianthe this whole time, finally decided to start acting again.

“Do you have any idea where they could be, Feyre?” Lucien asked.

“No,” I breathed. “I…I wasn’t permitted to go anywhere. I was kept in a room in the palace I stayed at during my bargain weeks. The one above the Hewn City.”

A lie peppered into some truth. I had told them all about the Moonstone Palace when I returned from my first week in the Night Court.

“We heard reports,” Tamlin began softly, treading carefully. “That you had been sighted in the Court of Nightmares.”

Finally, something to work with. Rhysand’s interest piqued.

“Yes,” I admitted quietly, thinking about my steamy night writhing on Rhysand’s hardened length. I pushed away the memory so the scent of my arousal didn't fill the room. “How did you know that?”

“I have spy. Someone embedded in the Night Court who has been feeding me information ever since we returned from Under the Mountain,” Tamlin explained.

“Who is it? Would I have met them? Can they help us find my sisters?”

I let my rushed questions roll off my tongue, frantic and energized for information.

Tamlin walked right into it.

“Frazen,” he supplied. “A nephew of the Court of Nightmares steward.”

Rhysand’s rage filled my mind and he quietly disappeared back behind his mental shields, no doubt immediately going to notify Azriel and Mor.

My first bit of surveillance secured.

“That name doesn’t sound familiar,” I sighed sadly.

“What did you do when you were there?” Tamlin asked and I stiffened at the accusatory tone of his question.

I let my eyes fill with tears once again.

Ever the dotting gentlemale, Lucien pulled out a silk handkerchief and passed it to me.

“It’s alright, Feyre,” he said, cutting a warning glare at Tamlin over my head. “Take your time. Just tell us what you can remember. Any tidbit of information can help us find Nesta and Elain.”

I made a show of wiping my eyes and blowing my snot-filled nose while Ianthe watched with nervous jitters, no doubt remembering her last embarrassing escapade through my court.

There was no point of lying or trying to make up a story when they had intelligence about my visit. They already knew I had been draped across Rhysand’s lap like his whore, a distraction for Azriel to steal the orb from Keir.

“He made me …” I began, letting my voice tremble.

I wish Rhys was still here.

“He made me to act like he made me act Under the Mountain,” I sniffled.

The skintight dresses, the faerie wine, the lust-filled dances between secret mates in that underground hellhole. No doubt Tamlin was also remembering his view from where he had sat besides Amarantha’s throne, a useless slab of nothing.

Lucien sighed deeply, like I had confirmed an awful suspicion.

“Is there any place else they could be?” I croaked, ready to steer the subject away to avoid lingering too long.

“Velaris?” Ianthe supplied with a curious glance at me.

It took every muscle in my body not to snarl at her when the name of my city left her lips.

Lucien too stiffened beside me.

“The King has the coordinates, of course,” Ianthe continued, taking a sip from her water glass. “From when they launched an attack there last week.”

Her blue eyes rose to me.

“We heard you had…The King said that you were detected fighting against his legion.”

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Rhysand brought me there when he was alerted about the attack and dumped me on some random side street,” I mumbled, pretending to shudder at the memory. “The Attor…It spotted me while it was attacking the civilians. It—“

Again, I gasped deeply and pressed the cloth to my mouth in faux horror.

"It came after me,” I cried, letting tears fall from my eyes.

Slowly, I shook my head like I was lost deep in the memory.

“It said I was responsible for the death of its mistress, for Amarantha,” I said, croaking on her name. That part of genuine, it was still difficult for me to say.

Tamlin groaned deeply. His fingers gripped the dark wood of the table so tightly, I felt it begin to warp under his touch.

I felt my mate return when his black talon danced along my mental barriers and I let him back in. His reassuring presence gave me the boost I needed to continue.

“The High Lord…He made me do things. With his mind. He could use his magic through me,” I lied.

Rhys gave me a motivational tug and it encouraged me to keep doing in this direction.

“I had started defending myself after the Attor went after me. But then —he— used his magic to make me fight.”

I wasn’t sure how much they knew of my battle to defend the Rainbow, whether they knew about my water wolves.

All of the Hybern soldiers who had witnessed it themselves were dead.

Lucien made a show of reaching over to rub my back as I cried into the handkerchief.

“We know the coordinates, yes,” Tamlin said softly. “But it would be next to impossible to get into without the King, especially after the attack. Jurian said the shields around the city were the most formidable any of them had ever witnessed. Unlike anything the King had ever seen.”

Rhys felt a glimmer of pride and I sent him an encouraging one in return.

“Amren will be pleased with herself to hear that,” I told him.

“I’m working on embedding more people into the trade and shipping routes that deal with the Night Court, hoping to detect someone with access to Velaris,” Tamlin told me. “We will find them.”

“Good luck,” Rhys sneered at him through my mind.

I looked around at the startling array of food laid out on the table for breakfast. The platters were piled high with expensive looking pastries, bowls of shiny grapes and elaborate egg dishes. All paid for by the Tithe.

How I longed for a cup of coffee and a croissant from my favorite bakery in Velaris, or the porridge with brown sugar that Nuala makes just right.

“I’m not very hungry,” I mumbled, pushing my seat away from the table.

As I headed towards the door, Tamlin caught my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Love, you should eat something,” he cooed gently, reaching up to brush a lock of my hair behind my face.

Pre-Mountain Feyre. I needed to have the bite of my human self. I could see the familiar worry in his eyes at me forgoing food. He needed to be able to trust me with information like this. I couldn’t shy away like I did all those months before.

“I’ll eat later,” I reassured him, patting his hand in a loving manner, before cutting my gaze coldly to Ianthe.

“I just can’t stand to look at her traitorous face any longer.”
_______________________

Like a mosquito that wouldn’t just go away, Tamlin met me hours later in the library.

I had spent my afternoon pouring over books on the Day Court, hoping to find information about the sticking charm that were allegedly used on the Illyrian wings.

Later. I would tell Rhys about them later, after I had removed them from the wall. Tonight, I would ask him casually to teach me about pocket realms and how to make one.

I snapped the book entitled, “Day Court Charms and Enchantments of the Prythianic Age,” closed and slid it innocently off to the side as the High Lord walked through the rows of bookshelves to my nook under a window.

Tamlin was carrying a plate of lemon bars and I didn’t have to fake my smile. The lemon bars here were pretty good, except they paled in comparison to Alis’s ginger cookies.

The very thought of my mating food made me ache.

“Oh, thank you,” I told him sincerely, taking one off the plate and biting into it, hoping the powered sugar wouldn’t splash all over my tunic.

“You’re welcome,” he said happily, dropping down to sit in the chair across from me.

It seemed like there were endless months where I prayed for this — a few minutes alone with him. When we first got back from the Mountain, he was so busy trying to bring peace and stability to his lands, we barely saw each other. All I wanted some days was 15 minutes to just relax together. After breakfast, though, he typically disappeared into meetings and appearances all day until it was time for sneak into my bed chambers.

“You’re …” He looked around at the sea of books. “You’re reading?”

“Yes,” I said, giving him an embarrassed smile. “I taught myself. I had a lot of time to practice during my…”

I pretended to search for an innocent word.

“Confinement.”

Tamlin’s face dropped at what I was alluding to, but he reached over and grab my hand, bringing my knuckles to his mouth to kiss.

“You’re remarkable,” he said simply and I feigned a blush.

Playfully, I took one of my fingers covered in powdered sugar and brushed it against his nose.

Tamlin grinned. Even as a mated female, I couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness. Tamlin had a penchant for moodiness as long as I had known him, but his smile used to take my breath away. It was impossible to deny. I had been head over heels in love with him at one point, after all.

While I finished my lemon bar, we chatted amicably about the manor and the servants. News of babies and proposals among the Spring Court elite whose names I was supposed to remember but couldn’t.

Eventually, Tamlin grew serious again.

“I’m sorry if you weren’t ready to see Ianthe yet,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“You didn’t,” I said. “Truthfully, Tam, I don’t think any amount of time will quell the anger I have towards her.”

He has always loved it when I call him Tam.

“I understand that,” he nodded. “I just need you to know that I agree with you, 100 percent. What Ianthe did was wrong. I never would have allowed it, had she told me what she was planning.”

His golden blonde hair glinted in the sunlight streaming in from the window. His gaze was sharp and focused. I believed him.

“Thank you. For trying to stop it,” I mumbled, casting my eyes down as I relived the sounds of my sisters screaming.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to,” he breathed. I could see he was disappointed in himself.

The fool couldn’t see how out of depth he was, thinking he could outwit the idiotic bargain he made with the King to get me back.

“Is she going to be punished?” I asked.

“Punished?”

“For going behind your back to make that deal,” I explained. “You are her High Lord and she pulled the rug out from under your feet. I could tell how surprised you were.”

“I was,” he said, reaching out to take my hand again. “I swear, Feyre, I had no idea that they would go after your sisters.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Tamlin balked at the simplicity of my question, my steady and simply curious tone.

“She harmed my family, Tamlin,” I peppered him. “As your fiancée, that makes them your family too. I know they’re humans but she hurt them. Is she just going to get away with that?”

His nostrils flared as he contemplated the sharpness of my tone.

He knew I was right.

“She hurt my family. The sisters of the High Lord’s bride are now Gods know where inside enemy territory. Abused and Made and probably terrified, because of what she did,” I continued, not even having to fake the anguish. “She was my friend and she betrayed me."

“She still is your friend,” Tamlin insisted, squeezing my fingers. “She made a mistake. And she will have to live with that guilt for the rest of her life but trust me, Feyre, her intentions were good.”

"She secretly aligned herself with Hybern,” I reminded him, lowering my voice as I gazed around to the library to assure we were alone.

Conspiratorially, I got up and slid my chair closer to him so the armrests pressed together. He smiled at me as I huddled against his side, without really touching him.

I wanted to vomit.

“I’m nervous, Tam,” I whispered gently. “Hybern. This is Hybern we’re talking about.”

“I know,” he nodded gravely and I could see the true anxiousness in his features. “Believe me. I hated doing it. I didn’t want to. But I was going out of my mind with worry about you. It seemed like the only way, especially after Adriata.”

I pretended to wince and lifted my hand to tilt his chin up, so I could look him in the eyes.

“That wasn’t me,” I said softly, hoping he would get the lie I was trying to feed him.

It was absolutely me who raised a knife to his chest. He just didn’t need to know that.

“I know, sweetheart,” Tamlin said immediately, brushing his hand down the back of my head. The gesture felt too intimate so I decided to sigh dramatically and sink back in my chair, away from his touch.

“What is going to happen now?” I asked. “The people of this court were brutalized by Amarantha. I’m not sure how well they will endure living beside Hybern. They have suffered enough.”

His jaw tightened.

“Hybern has promised that our people shall remain untouched and undisturbed.”

My people were in the North, in the court I now ruled. I swore to protect those people. I wondered idly if Tamlin ever took his own vows.

“It was part of our bargain,” he continued and bile rose in my throat.

The bargain he made when he sold out all of Prythian to get me back. To get back the female he felt entitled to.

“Our people will be safe when Hybern arrives. Though I’ve sent out word that families should relocate to the eastern part of the territory for the time being.”

Good. That was news. Something I could work with.

I nodded in understanding and relief, letting my gaze drift back over the books.

Clearly desperate for a change in topic, Tamlin seized on the opportunity.

“You’ll lose your eyesight if you try to read all of these,” he teased, flicking through some open pages.

“I’ve gotten quite good at it, thank you very much,” I responded playfully, tugging the book away from his grasp so he couldn’t read the title — “Sun Salutations: A Geographical Explanation of Day Court Customs.”

I looked out of the window, taking in the towering hydrangea bush that filled the view.

“I want to learn more about Spring,” I told Tamlin. “The history, the different kinds of Fae, of magic. I want to see more of it. I know I wasn’t at a good place when we first came home. But this time, I’m so relieved to be back, I don’t want to miss a single second.”

Lie, lie, lie.

If I go the rest of my life without smelling roses, I will be happy.

“I would love that, Feyre,” Tamlin said seriously, his eyes clouding over in grateful tears that he didn’t let fall.

He has never cried in front of me. Those moments when he sobbed over my dead body, I had only seen it happen through Rhysand’s eyes, through our mating bond. Tamlin had never opened up to me in that way.

“I sheltered you too much before, didn’t I?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know,” I whispered honestly.

He didn’t know what to do. He was out of his element, clearly floundering himself. Amarantha had broken both of us beyond repair. Only my mate was able to piece me back together.

“I’m still struggling, Tam, with all of it,” I sighed, gesturing to my Fae ears.

I didn’t want him to get the impression that things would begin rapidly moving in our relationship again.

His eyes filled with guilt once more.

“I just need time,” I explained. “I need space, to work it all out. But I also need to keep busy. I need things to do. Otherwise, my mind wanders to all of those dark places.”

“What would you like to do?” Tamlin offered happily and I was impressed by how much he was trying. He didn’t rattle off an inane list of boring options like “tending to the garden” or “taking a stroll through the grounds.”

I thought for a moment.

“I have an idea,” I told him, innocently picking up one of the books and waving it around like a prop.

“You once told me that the worst part of being High Lord is all of the paperwork,” I reminded him and he snorted a laugh. “Let me help you.”

“You want to help me with paperwork?” he asked incredulously.

“Surprisingly, yes,” I admitted with a giggle. “I’m still trying to get better at it, so I can read faster. I would be here at the manor, so you wouldn’t have to worry because you would know I am safe. I get to practice my reading and you have less paperwork to go through. It’s a win/win.”

“Wouldn’t that be boring for you?”

“Honestly, I don’t think so,” I said with a shy shrug. “Isn’t this what a consort is supposed to do anyways? Help you manage your court and your correspondence? Let me help you — especially after all you did to save me.”

I let my hand rest atop his to still it as he absentmindedly flipped through another book.

“Let me be your secretary,” I said playfully and he laughed.

Jackpot.

Notes:

Since I'm the captain of this ship now, I am making Feyre actually intelligent.

Like, hello, she's High Lady. I love SJM, but I could never understood Feyre's actions during ACOWAR. She was childish and petty. She made a terrible spy and offered literally no valuable information to Rhys the entire time. As far as we know, they only communicated briefly before she disappeared and freaked everyone out. She toppled Tamlin's court out of revenge, setting up the entire country to fail and Summer Court to be attacked.

NOT ON MY WATCH.

My Feyre is going to be bright, brave and bold. She will be in much more contact with Rhys, funneling him everything she can find out about Hybern. And now that she has Lucien by her side, she will be twice as effective.

What are you guessing will happen?

I am going to aim to upload a new chapter about once a week, not daily like I wrote "Shattered Opal." Please be patient with me as ACOWAR is a ginormous book haha.

Leave me comments and kudos below if you're enjoying the new chapter. I promise I read every single one!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of "Shattered Opal" and "Formidable Gems" - ACOTAR Rewrites