#I liked Nesta in the third book but now Im back on hating on Nesta | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vidalinav · 3 years

Text

Stu(died)

Summary: Nesta starts tutoring Cassian in o-chem, while Cassian mostly stares at Nesta the entire time. He has a school-boy crush.

Nessian Modern AU-university setting.

Cassian has never met anyone more perfect than Nesta Archeron. He swears she's come straight out of a book. Fitting, he thinks, since every time he meets her, they’re at the library.

In fact, that’s the only place she’ll meet him at.

He knows of two other places she frequents, two other places that are closer to their respective classes and many other places he suggests for... his own motivations. Nesta only wants to see him in a library. Something about the absorption of knowledge in that tiny brain of his, which frankly sounds offensive when she says it the first time. And the second time. And the third.

I’m your tutor, she painstakingly reminds him. We’re not friends.

Cassian wants to beg to differ. Tries on more than one occasion. He’s known her since freshman year, they have to be friends by now.

But... she’s not wrong about being his tutor.

His problem, Cassian admits, is that he doesn’t like to read. He doesn’t really like to study either, but with Nesta Archeron he finds himself jotting down notes. Not on any subject pertaining to his classes... but in memorizing ever expression she makes, every roll of her eyes as she tells him to pay attention.

Pay attention, he shall!

More often than not she’s donning a grey fitted shirt that says University Printing in orange tiny print. It’s from her second job. Tutoring him is her third. Her least favorite, she says.

Liar, he always wants to say. I’m much better to look at than toner.

But Cassian’s not so sure about that. So far, she only looks at him with disdain and he can rarely get a conversation out of her that doesn’t have to do with covalent bonds or... something or other. He forgets. Cassian only remembers her voice, her hair, her eyes... which defeats the purpose of tutoring and is probably not good for his grades. But alas, Cassian doesn’t find it in himself to care too much.

He remembers just fine.

Sometimes, if they meet on the weekends, she’s too busy to take off her black apron. She works at a coffee shop on the outskirts of campus, and she comes to the library smelling like coffee and Cassian’s sure he’ll focus this time. All adrenaline and caffeine, but then she talks and he’s... listening, but really he only listens to her tone. Such haughty words she huffs, her eyes rolling as if she can’t believe he isn’t understanding after all this precious time.

Are you even listening, Cassian?

He likes when she says his name. It rolls off her tongue and she sneers and he likes that too.

But most days, like today, Nesta Archeron wraps herself in sweaters. All manners of cardigans. And the best thing about her is the way her nose is stuck in a book. Cassian longs to trace her cheeks, pulling the few wisps of hair that falls, tucking it behind her ear. He imagines her blushing as he does it, staring at those well-used pages.

All he ever gets from her is a glare.

Like he’s just stolen her from a world filled with muscles and nervous systems, or whatever people study in human physiology. Her stare often makes him wonder if she’s imagining how his body moves, how he breathes, if she can pull him part and hold his intestines in her hands. He feels like a wriggling rat when she looks at him. A little frog he can’t cut in high school biology without running to the bathroom nauseated.

Cassian loves that look the best, though, so he waves at the girl who glares in her seat. The exact seat she always sits in for these sessions. If he grins more goofily than he cares to admit, well... he’s no less happy to see her.

“What are we learning today, Teach?”

Nesta rolls her eyes as he lays his bag across the table and he shuffles in search of his notebook.

That much noise in a library? He can imagine her saying. Preposterous.

“That’s not my name,” she grumbles out, instead.

“What are you going to teach me then, Obi-wan?”

“Is that why you’re failing o-chem?” She remarks, her nose scrunching in that very sweet, judgmental way of hers, “Watching too much Star Wars instead of opening up a textbook?”

Indeed, she looks at the book he pulls from his bag. It is new, and he hasn’t opened it. Every time he tries, he finds better things to do. Another video on Youtube, or one of his friends suggesting a trip to lunch or dinner... or breakfast. He tries to find numerous excuses on why he can’t open that book. He’s going to study from the slides, Cassian says, from his notes. But whenever he opens his notebook, all he finds is scribbles.

Cassian sighs. He hates this class.

But he swallows down his disdain, “I’ll tell you the truth if you tell me what your favorite movie is?”

Nesta shakes her head, her lips pursing as if she might tell him off in a minute or two. Cassian looks at his watch as if he might time it exactly. A ticking bomb. First the pursed lips, then the stern gaze, then the red face and she’ll blow.

“No,” she announces, “I’m here to tutor you, not entertain.”

“Such a shame since I brought the clown suit today, thought you’d look good in the red nose.”

Nesta blinks up at the words and Cassian holds back his grin.

“You’re weird,” she huffs, taking his book out of his hands and opening it up to the first chapter.

“I brought you something today. To sweeten our time together.”

Her brows scrunch at that, but he pulls the container out of his bag, crinkling and noise be damned. Cassian lays out the cake and places the fork next to the textbook.

“You’re bribing me with cake?”

“Chocolate cake,” he explains, “and not just any cake. This is from the dining hall near South Campus. Best cake in the world.”

“I know the dining hall,” Nesta scoffs.

“Then you’ll know how good the cake tastes.” Cassian pulls the container back towards him, pulling apart the packing for the fork. “But if you don’t want it, I guess I’ll just eat it myself.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” she says and he can already see her resolve wavering.

It’s always like this. Cassian bribing Nesta with sweets until she’s gliding her fingers down the text book, one sentence at a time. Quizzing him with flashcards until he can only see double lines and circles in his mind... and that tiny smile she makes when she takes just one bite.

Nesta taps her pencil on the page, distracting him from his thoughts. “This doesn’t mean I’ll take it easy on you this semester. You barely passed biology last semester.”

Cassian scoffs, raising his chin. “That was sophomore me. I’m serious now.”

But then Nesta’s reading off the page, drawing diagrams in his notebook, and he’s only staring at her lips.

Cassian sighs.

This is going to be a long semester.

Tagged: @my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @thewhelk, @daisy-in-danger, @highqueenevankhell, @lovelynesta, @sirendeepity, @champanheandluxxury, @ladynestaarcheron, @moodymelanist, @teagoddess99, @spoilersteph, @angelic-voice-1997, @bo0kmaster69, @drielecarla, @generalnesta, @cozycomfyliving08 @arinbelle

Poor boy, he’s going to fail his classes.

Anyway, this is another fic Im sure I’m not going to finish but had an idea for so I ran with it for one scene and probably one scene only.

Bye!

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #university au #vidalinav writes #plot twist Cassian doesn’t even need to take these classes

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thespianbooks · 3 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 20//

Masterlist

tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Posting a little earlier because last week I posted a little later than I meant to 😅

XXX

"Eris is High Lord of the Autumn Court?" Mor asked carefully, her warm eyes widened in subtle horror.

In the weeks that followed the news of the civil unrest taking place in Autumn, all the courts of Prythian had been on a collective edge. As our spymaster indicated in his reports, Eris indeed sent letters to every court—asking for aid in the fight against his father, and almost every one had begrudgingly sent a small contingency of their armies; Kallias being the only one to outright refuse. After bearing witness firsthand to Beron's insolence at the summit, they all were hesitant to trust that Eris would be any better—especially Kallias, whose heavily pregnant mate had been targeted by the older male. They were surprised, however, to see the legion of Illyrians that Cassian sent; realizing later that we were retaliating directly against Beron for not only his assault against me at the summit, but for his attack on Velaris as well. They also knew of the tenuous alliance Rhys and I had with Eris for his help during the war, and one-by-one they offered their support for the male in a fortnight.

Azriel nodded in response to Mor, taking a subtle step closer as she loosed a shaky breath. After meeting with his brothers, Rhys had called for the rest of us to gather in the library in order to disclose the information they received earlier this morning—that Eris had beaten his father and was crowned as the new High Lord of Autumn, while his despicable father rotted in their prison, for now.

"What now?" I asked as Mor remained speechless, her eyes still darting from side to side as she processed the news.

The last decade of peace hadn't lessened the hatred she bore towards the Autumn male, and I understood how it must've felt to learn that the male who caused her unbearable pain—had left her for dead, was now elevated to a high position of power.

"Now that bastard keeps a leash on Keir, until we and the other courts can pull back our forces and recuperate before tackling our next issue." Rhysand answered, keeping a watchful eye on his cousin.

"How long will that take?" Amren asked from her seat next to Mor, subtly moving closer and offering the blonde her glass of wine.

"Two or three weeks, give or take." Cassian responded as Mor took that glass and gulped down the remainder of its contents.

"How exactly will he do that?" Elain asked timidly, she hadn't been very involved in the meetings where we developed our plan of action—the war with Hybern still too fresh in her memory for her to actively participate as she had back then. She was finally in a good place, nearly recovered mentally, and talks of going to war again only gave her painful reminders of what she had lost then.

I placed a hand over hers gently. "Rhys has been writing back and forth with Eris over the last two weeks. Once he started gaining an advantage over his father, Eris received a letter from Keir offering to create an alliance," I explained.

"You mean renew an alliance," Mor said bitterly as she stood and crossed over to the set of windows, hands on her hips.

I frowned, sharing a look with Rhysand. "But Eris is our ally in this coup. I have already instructed him to keep Keir sidetracked with false promises of a treaty while we work together with the other courts and replenish our armies," he reassured.

"You really think we can trust him?" Mor asked, turning back to face us. "He's been biding his time until he could win his father's throne, using us as leverage, how do we know he'll keep his word now that he has it?"

"He is ruthless, cousin, there's no doubt about that. He also knows that he would be at a severe disadvantage if he paired with Keir in the coup. His court just underwent a civil war, it is in shambles and he now has to navigate how to deal with his father's supporters and piece his court back together. Partnering with Keir would be disastrous and result in his court falling apart completely," Rhys explained calmly.

"If for some batshit crazy reason he does decide to side with Keir, we outnumber them now." Cassian added. "With the other courts on our side, they can't win."

Mor still looked unconvinced as she turned back to the window without another word. I saw Azriel watching her, a flicker of yearning in those hazel eyes, but he looked away as Elain spoke up again.

"Is there any news of Vassa…?" She asked quietly.

"She was recovered and returned to her home in the Mortal Lands, by Lucien." He answered her just as softly.

A pall of silence fell over us—Mor's rage continued to simmer as she stared out the window; while my sister and the shadowsinger exchanged a prolonged look before she finally looked down at her lap. Whether or not she acknowledged the fact that it was her mate that rescued the mortal queen, or whether or not she cared, I could only guess.

Rhys cleared his throat. "In the meantime, we keep waiting while Eris keeps Keir distracted. During that time, the other courts will be steadily sending their forces until those who fought in Autumn are recovered and can accompany the rest. If all goes according to plan, we have approximately two weeks until we're hosting the other courts and High Lords," he continued.

"Where are we going to host five High Lords, their entourages, and armies? We can't use the palace above the Court of Nightmares, Keir will know." I asked, bewildered.

"We'll host them here, in Velaris," Rhys answered with a rouge smirk.

"And their armies will camp out in the Northern Forests of the Illyrian Steppes," Cassian finished, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a crooked grin of his own. "We'll give them a little taste of what it's like in those mountains."

"What if Kallon gets reports of those gathered armies? He'll alert Keir," I challenged.

Rhys placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "They'll be stationed outside of Windhaven camp. Kallon is too busy rallying his rebels to bother checking in on his rival camp. We'll be setting up wards to shield them once they've become large enough; the other High Lords and I will take turns keeping them up."

I squeezed his hand back, leaning back against the cushion of my chair and running a free hand over my belly. Madja continued to assure Rhys and I that our son was growing at the expected rate and remained perfectly healthy. My recovery continued to improve, and the healer had alleviated some of the conditions for my confinement. I was now allowed out of bed for short walks around the estate; I could also paint and tend to some of my duties as High Lady, like writing letters and sorting through reports, but needed to maintain a light and easy schedule—nothing involving anything too strenuous. Since I was on the cusp of entering the last stage of pregnancy, only a few short months away from giving birth, she advised that I remain in the estate until my time came—when my period of nesting began, and Rhys would whisk me away to the Cabin in preparation for the birth of our son.

"Will there be fighting?" Nesta asked.

She stood beside Cassian; hands neatly folded in front of her as she turned a raised chin to the male. Though I couldn't see it, I knew the memories that flashed behind her fierce grey-blue eyes—of Cassian on the battlefield during the war; of the injuries he sustained.

"It's doubtful," Rhys replied for the commander. "We outnumber his Darkbringers and rogue Illyrians six-to-one. Once he and Kallon get word of the troops gathered in the Steppes, they'll come to meet us with their own. If they're smart, they'll realize sooner rather than later how ill-fated their cause has become and surrender."

Mor scoffed from her place at the window. "Like hell they will. You know that bastard won't go down without a fight."

"Then there will be a slaughter. Either way, they lose." Rhys said easily. "They'll be reminded of why previous coup attempts have been thwarted, and the Illyrians will be put in their place once again. As for Keir," he shared a meaningful look with his cousin as citrine and amethyst clashed. I pictured the paints I would use, emphasizing just the shape and fierceness of that shared look.

"So...we have nothing to worry about?" Elain asked hesitantly.

I took her hand again, "We're safe Elain. With our allies and this plan, the coup will fail. This confrontation is nothing like how it was with Hybern."

She nodded, her tense shoulders easing a bit. Amren crossed one leg over the other as a crooked grin lined her lips. "At least this time I won't be needing to sacrifice my life for you lot."

"We could always add you to the front lines. They don't know you don't have any powers; we could just use you to intimidate them to death," Cassian quipped.

"She's far too small for that," Azriel added.

Cassian roared in laughter as Amren glared at the spymaster. I half-heartedly laughed, noting the edge that lingered between my mate and his cousin; until Mor turned away and walked out of the library.

Is she okay? I asked through the bond.

As okay as she can be. She hates that Eris is High Lord, but I just informed her that I will be turning her wretched father over to her after this coup is over

Did that help?

Not as much as I would have hoped

Let me go talk to her. It's been a while since we've talked alone, maybe I can help her sort through her feelings.

Rhys only nodded in response before crossing over to stand in front of me and helped ease me to my feet. Despite my remarkable recovery, my growing belly still made my movements slower and slower. I was also beginning to notice that my balance was growing increasingly skewed but blamed it on the bed rest for now. The others hardly noticed as he escorted me to the door; their continued conversations and my departure a subtle indication that our meeting was over.

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked once we were in the hallway, wrapping an arm around my waist as we walked.

"I'm fine. It's been nice to walk around again, even if I'm stuck indoors for now," I said.

A small frown came to his face and I quickly realized how my words sounded. The last time I had been confined inside an estate…

"It's not the same," I quickly amended. "I'm doing it for our little Bash," I said while rubbing my stomach for emphasis. "For both of our health. You're not locking me away and forbidding me from entering the city."

He took my hand in his free one, bringing it to his lips. "Never," he said. "Maybe in another couple of weeks Madga will deem it safe for us to resume our walks out along the Sidra. We'll get to enjoy the weather while it's still warm."

I smiled. "After this coup is over, and those responsible are taken care of, we'll get to enjoy it. We'll get to enjoy this," I said as I looked down at my middle.

Rhys's eyes softened as his gaze moved to my stomach, and I felt our son stretch in my belly. We stopped short of Mor's room and he pressed a kiss to my brow, his hands holding either side of my swollen abdomen. "Yes, we will."

I breathed in his scent and sighed lightly before pulling him in for a quick kiss. "You go take care of business. I'll talk to Mor and spend the day with her."

He nodded before taking a step back, "I'll be in my office if you need me."

"I'll be fine," I reminded him.

He smirked and kissed my belly goodbye before winnowing away. I took in another inhale before I stepped around the corner and approached Mor's door. Before I could knock, however, the door swung open with the blonde on the other side of it. She ushered me inside wordlessly and I followed suit, walking into her suite.

"You didn't need to come check on me," she said as she closed the door behind me.

"I figured you needed someone to talk to after hearing the news," I said as I worked to lower myself on the plush settee in the center of her room.

She sighed and plopped herself onto the seat beside me, helping me down and stared at her feet. "I knew it was bound to happen someday, especially after the deal Rhys made with him, but…" she trailed off.

"But it's different actually seeing it become a reality," I affirmed and touched her shoulder gently.

"I know, and you're completely entitled to your feelings. After everything that's happened, on top of this coup orchestrated by Keir," I shook my head and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry Mor."

She continued to stare at the ground until her dark-honeyed eyes finally met mine. "I'm well over five-hundred centuries old, and yet any knowledge of the two of them working together—even under a guise for our sake just…" she shook her head, truly unable to voice the rage boiling underneath her skin, her elegant fingers curling into fists.

I touched one of those fists, levelling my gaze with hers. "Mor, I promise you, if Eris so much as looks at us the wrong way, we'll take care of him. The last thing we do is trust him, and I know Rhys wouldn't hesitate to rip him to shreds if he tries anything like his father did." I promised.

The corner of her mouth twitched upward slightly, and she sighed. "I know the alliance is necessary. I'm just not happy about it," she lamented.

"Neither am I," I assured, and she dipped her head in approval before uncurling her hands and bringing one to touch my stomach gently.

"How is he?" she asked.

Ever since revealing to my sisters that I was expecting a boy, the news hadn't remained a secret for long. Elain had been so delighted and shared the news with Mor and Amren during dinner that same night; Cassian then boasting that he had known for some time, which launched into a debate with the entire inner circle. I then sheepishly promised Rhysand that I wouldn't reveal our son's name until after his birth.

"He's good, moving a lot right now," I answered and smiled at feeling a kick. "Feel that?"

Mor's widened grin was answer enough as she continued to stroke my belly, encouraging my son to kick more and laughed as he responded to her movements and words.

"How does it feel for you?" She asked.

I shrugged. "It's hard to describe, the more he grows the different it feels. Viviane once told me that once I reach the end stages, I'll start to feel feet, fists, and elbows in there."

Mor cringed. "Does it hurt at all?"

I shook my head. "I think he's still too small. His movements are noticeable but not painful."

She nodded and studied my belly for a silent minute, caressing it lightly. "I can't wait for all of this to be over so we can turn all the attention on you, little one. Auntie Mor already has so many presents for you," she cooed.

I blinked, "Presents?"

She grinned mischievously, "Wanna see?"

I nodded with a laugh, but as she got up and crossed over to her enormous closet, a knock came at her door. Raising a brow, she walked over and opened it; a sentry waiting outside of it before she allowed him in.

"Pardon me, milady, but Lucien Vanserra is here to see you," the sentry informed me, albeit a bit hesitant.

I balked at him. "Here on the grounds?" I asked to confirm.

Lucien was about the only male welcomed in and out of Velaris; due to his connection with Elain, and his desire to be closer from time-to-time after the war, he had his own apartment in the city. However, since constructing the estate, he only visited on a few occasions.

The sentry nodded, "Yes. He arrived moments ago, insisting on an audience with you. Lord Rhysand greeted him, but he still maintains in meeting with you alone."

I paused to think. Knowing my mate, he was leaving the decision to me. "Is he alright?" I asked cautiously. "He isn't hurt, is he?"

The sentry shook his head. "He seems well, but unyielding."

"Maybe it has something to do with his swine of a brother," Mor offered. "I'll go with you. If he's angry, the last thing we want is for him to lash out at you in your condition."

"Lucien wouldn't hurt me Mor. If anything, he's probably hurting too. I have a feeling something else has happened," I said before motioning her to help me stand.

I grunted a bit with effort as she helped me get to my feet, a little wearier than I had previously been. Mor frowned, "We can send for him after dinner, once you've gotten some food and rest."

"I'll meet him in the sitting room attached to my suite. I can rest there and talk with him, and I know you all won't be far," I insisted and linked my arm with hers.

"Tell Lucien I will meet him in my sitting room in five minutes," I said to the sentry, who bowed in response and left the room.

"Are you sure about this Feyre? If he upsets you and puts too much strain on you and the baby…" Mor began.

"It's all right Mor," I assured her as she escorted me out of her room. "I think it's Lucien's turn to vent to a friend about the new High Lord of Autumn."

Mor cringed, recalling the cruel revelation Eris had unleashed on his youngest brother at the summit months ago. Still, as she led me back to the sitting room adjoined to my suite, she waited with me for Lucien's arrival. Moments later, my disheveled friend strode in, his russet eye wide while the mechanical one whirring as he took us in. He didn't so much as look at Mor as he cautiously approached me.

"Did you know?" He asked me by way of greeting. "About Helion and my mother? About-" he began but cut himself off as he finally realized Mor was standing beside the chaise lounge I perched on.

I turned a look at her and she understood my request. "I'll be down the hall," she said before leaving us alone.

"Did you know about their affair? That Helion is my-" he cut himself off again, unable to say the words as he paced the room.

I only offered a small nod, watching him empathetically. "Yes," I said softly.

"When?" He asked, still pacing back and forth across the carpet. "When did you figure it out? Or who told you? Was it my father? I mean, was it-"

"I figured it out after I first met Helion; before the war with Hybern started and we all gathered for the first time at Thesan's palace. He told me the story of what happened to your mother, her sisters, and how he rescued her during the first war." I answered, interrupting his rambling questions.

He stopped pacing and faced me. "Did Rhysand know?"

I shook my head. "Not until I figured it out myself. I made the connection; Rhys didn't realize it until I did."

His arms grew slack at his sides. "So, it's not some well-known secret that all of Prythian knows about and just hid from me?"

"No Lucien, it-" I began but then he interrupted.

"So why didn't you tell me, Feyre?" He asked, both of his eyes wide and bewildered. "You've known all this time and you didn't think to tell me? I thought we were friends!"

I frowned as he snapped at me, my hormones surging and causing tears to well in my eyes. It must have been evident, because he sighed and took a mild step towards me before turning away and running both hands through his bright auburn hair with an exasperated sigh. I quickly put my emotions in check, not wanting my irrational mood swing to interrupt Lucien's moment.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"No, Lucien, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Honestly, I didn't think it was my place, and after what happened at the summit, I thought it was the last thing you wanted to hear." I explained.

He sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the ground. "My father...I mean, Beron, told me. When he attacked the Mortal Lands and took Vassa. He...claimed I was 'no son of his' and said I was nothing more than a Day Court bastard. I was shocked, and then he started the attack. I tried to fight him off, to protect Vassa, but then…" his voice faded as his eye turned hazy, the other whirring out of focus as he recalled whatever details that occurred that day.

I slowly offered my hand, still seated, and it took a minute before he registered my movement and took it. I motioned for him to sit beside me and he did, his shoulders slumped over slightly as an invisible weight pressed on them.

"When Eris was crowned, my fa...Beron, imprisoned; my mother summoned me back to the palace. She broke down and explained everything, told me of her relationship with Helion and that he was my biological father. She never told him," he went on, voice barely above a whisper.

"She loved him, Feyre, and her husband kept her there. Imprisoned to serve as Lady of the Autumn Court, even while she carried another male's child," he pressed a palm onto his good eye, massaging the stress from it.

I placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. "How is she?"

He sighed. "Relieved. Eris is granting her a separation from Beron before he...finds a way to deal with him, but when she told me about Helion, she seemed...broken." He met my gaze again,

"You were almost her. All those years ago with Tamlin, when I didn't do anything to stop it. I almost let what happened to my mother happen to you," he said, a subtle horror laced in his voice.

"What happened to your mother wasn't your fault, Lucien." I said, moving my hand from his shoulder to his hand.

"I knew. A part of me knew she wasn't happy with my father," he cringed. "Beron. Yet I didn't try to take her away. I didn't do anything, and neither did Helion."

I sighed and moved a little closer to him. "Lucien, there was nothing you could have done. Beron had complete control over her. Even if you could, she probably wouldn't have left for fear of him and what he might do."

"But that's the point, I could have," he jumped back to his feet, pacing again. "I could have done something for her, for you, and I didn't. I couldn't protect her, or you, and I couldn't protect Vassa! I couldn't even protect your sister, my mate, from what Hybern did to her and Nesta. What kind of male am I that I can't protect the ones I care for, the ones I love?"

I frowned, "Lucien-"

"No, I...he took Vassa, Feyre. He managed to find that sorcerer that controls her and forced her into her firebird form. The way she screamed; it was...I couldn't bear it. Then learning what he did to my mother, and remembering what happened to you...to Elain, to even Jesminda, and how I allowed it all to happen. I...what…" he looked around frantically, his chest heaving a bit as he paced.

I did my best to rise as quickly and cautiously as I could before I approached him and threw my arms around him in an embrace. His arms were pinned at his sides as I held him, his body going rigid at first—until slowly he relaxed, his arms going limp before slowly wrapping his arms around me in return. Despite the complicated past with Tamlin, the one instance where he did have a say, he was my friend and had more than made up for it since. Beron had given him a life of turbulence; him and his brothers making Lucien's life hell until he found reprieve in the Spring Court. Then, once his closest friend had begun turning into a tyrant reminiscent of his father, those feelings of being trapped returned—unable to help me to the extent he wanted. After escaping that, after the war, he once again found solace with his human friends...until Beron's latest attack.

Lucien had felt so out of control in his own life, and every time little moments of freedom were offered—whether by finding a home in the Spring Court, then being welcomed to Velaris and the Mortal Realm, it seemed to crumble before him. Now with this latest truth revealed to him, it was no wonder that he was beginning to crumble next.

I wouldn't let that happen.

"Your mother is safe. I am safe. Elain is safe, and Vassa is safe," I said. "We are all safe now Lucien. Yes, we each endured some version of hell, but we survived. Just like you are doing now," I pulled back at arm's length to meet his gaze.

"You saved Vassa. As for me and Elain, who knows what would have happened if you hadn't done your part during the war; if you hadn't guided the Mortals, and Drakon and Miyram's army down the right path. As for your mother, you did what you could. Unfortunately, there was nothing you could do while she remained subservient under Beron, but now she is free of him. There is so much to look forward to Lucien," I took his hands again, squeezing them. "There will be good days and bad—don't let the hard days win."

Lucien blinked at me; his russet eye growing soft while the golden one whirred quietly. He continued to stare at me before he embraced me again, pulling me in a little too tightly and I cringed at the pressure on my stomach. He gasped and stepped back.

"Are you okay?" he asked

I nodded with a weary laugh, holding my stomach. "I'm fine, you just squished him a little."

He looked at my stomach, as if he just noticed it and helped me back to my seat carefully. "I almost forgot how far along you were. I haven't seen you since the summit."

"It's weird huh?" I motioned to my enlarged belly. "Sometimes I'm still a little surprised when I see myself in the mirror."

"Is he okay? I heard what you did...after what happened in Velaris," he asked with a frown.

"We're okay. We had a little scare, but my healer took care of us right away. I was on bedrest for a while, and technically still recovering, but I'm better now." I answered, resting my arms over my stomach.

He shook his head. "Rhysand must've lost his mind. I nearly did when Vassa was taken, and she isn't," he stopped himself with another shake of his head—as if trying to erase the memory of what happened to the mortal Queen.

I raised my brow at the tone in his voice, his worry for the fierce mortal woman. I paused as he loosed a long breath, finally cooled from his panic. "Do you want me to call Elain? I know she was worried about Vassa too, maybe you can assure her that she's alright?"

Lucien shook his head. "No, it's alright, I should get back to Vassa," he said, but paused when he met my questioning stare. "And Jurian; the mortal lands."

I laughed. "But…" he started. "Will you tell her I was here?"

"Yes. I'll let her know you're taking care of Vassa."

He dipped his head in a subtle nod and sighed again. "Thank you Feyre," he said softly.

"Anytime Lucien, just remember what I said okay?"

He offered a stiff smile before leaning down to give me a parting hug before escorting himself out. Rhys appeared in the doorway a second later.

"Well," he started. "That was intense."

I sighed, slumping back against the lounge and running my hands over my stomach. "He was upset. Beron told him about Helion and his mother."

Rhys released his own deep exhale and crossed over to the lounge, scooping me up easily and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, resting my head against his shoulder. He walked us into our adjoining bedroom, laying me across the bed carefully and spreading out beside me. I rubbed my stomach lightly, watching it before Rhys placed a hand at the apex of my belly.

"He'll recover. It'll take time, but he will come to terms with the news," he said quietly as he ran his hand over the expanse of my stomach.

"Do you think Helion knows?" I asked.

"He probably suspects after the comment Eris made at the summit," he responded, voice still low. "Though I'm not sure what he'll do about it."

"What would you have done, if it were us? If I had actually married Tamlin, and in my time spent here to fulfill the bargain, you and I fell in love regardless? If we had conceived our son and I was stuck in the Spring Court, forced to name him Tamlin's…" I flinched at just the mere thought of it, of how easily it could have been me.

Rhys took my chin gently, tilting my head back to meet his violet eyes, sparkling intensely. "I would have torn the world apart for you, Feyre," he reminded me.

I smiled half-heartedly before he pulled me closer. "We don't know exactly how hard Helion tried to get her back, perhaps now they'll get the end they deserved," he said.

"Maybe," I mused, playing with the collar of his black tunic. "Did Eris...say anything about what he plans to do with Beron?"

"He's keeping him imprisoned until further notice. Said he might turn him over to us once we have Keir and Kallon in our custody," he said as his fingertips traced my side lightly.

I shivered at his touch, a part of me resenting Madja for deeming any sexual activity still too strenuous during my recovery. I hummed in response, "He'd actually let us execute his father?"

Rhys shrugged. "Beron will die regardless, along with Keir and Kallon."

"Mmm, what a fitting end for the three of them." I murmured, my eyes beginning to feel heavy as my mate's warmth continued to envelop me.

He noticed the fatigue in my voice and pressed a kiss to my brow. "All this talk of war and its lasting effects is wearing you down my love," he teased.

I rolled my eyes, closing them as I laid my head on his shoulder. "It wouldn't be if I weren't so busy growing a powerful high fae," I muttered.

I felt his dark chuckle rattle in his chest. "Sleep Feyre," he whispered as a hand ran down my back gently.

Sebastian must've wanted the same, because despite his constant movements and kicks just a while earlier, he was now calm—perhaps slipping into his own nap. I felt myself fading, too tired to respond with a witty remark and only stirred slightly when I felt Rhys move from my side and press another kiss to my brow.

I dreamt of Sebastian running through a pile of bright red and orange leaves, laughing and giggling as they crunched under his feet, Lucien standing at a distance with a content smile on his face—Vassa at his side.

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cleopatraas · 7 years

Note

if Chiara was alive what would things be like?

I LIKE THIS

Disclaimer: ACOMAF is a huge book and I barely remember a lot of it, just some big scenes, so it’s probably not in order and it’s a bit choppy.

Chiara becomes known across Prythian as the High Lord Killer. When Tamlin and his brothers came to kill her and her mother, she did not die, though her mother did. The High Lord of the Spring Court killed her mother first and Chiara only saw red

Chiara screamed a scream so loud it shattered mountains. Magic burst free from her entire body, magic she had forced herself to lock away, to shove deep down. And it poured out of her, killing the High Lord where he stood.

Tamlin never forgave his mate for killing his father

Later, Rhys, Chiara, and their father go to the Spring Court to enact revenge for their mother/mate. Rhys and Chiara each get a sibling, and Chiara takes her precious time, where as Rhys just melts the Heir’s brain.

Their father still kills the Lady of the Spring

Tamlin still kills their father

Chiara never forgave her mate for killing her father

Chiara was High Lady of the Night Court, Night Incarnate, Death’s Hand, and she was more than feared. A little girl had killed a High Lord, a little girl sat on Prythian’s strongest court’s throne.

A little girl melted brains, snapped necks, let her blades slide through bodies, and seemingly felt no remorse

Rhys became her trusted advisor

Cassian became her General Commander

Azriel became her Shadowsinger, and she vowed never to use him the way her father used him

Mor became her Second, which Keir hated just like he hated he had to bow to a High Lady, but Chiara took no prisoners, as they say

The Spring Court and the Night Court were (im)mortal enemies, but no one knew why except for a chosen few

Chiara saved Amren from the Prison

bonus: Chiara does indeed ask Amren to bed her. If you thought she was straight, boy, you’re wrong

They became the Court of Dreamers, the six of them. The High Lady, Her Second and Third, her Commander, her Shadowsinger, and her brother. (Rhys doesn’t have his powers, since Chiara has them all as High Lady, but he’s the best Illyrian warrior there is)

Then Amarantha came

Chiara went willingly, knowing she had to protect her family

But Amarantha wanted both siblings, even if Rhys isn’t all powerful. She wanted something to hold over Chiara

Amarantha used Chiara to terrorize Prythian into submission. Rhys is still Amarantha’s Whore, but Chiara is Amarantha’s High Lord Killer

The curse put on Tamlin and the Spring Court is even worse, if you think about it, because his mate is right there but he still has to fall for a human

Feyre comes in

Now whether you want Chiara to fall in love with Feyre or Rhys to fall in love with Feyre, that’s all up to you. It could go either way. But Chiara replaces Rhys in the Calamnai scene and in the manor scene with Tamlin and Lucien

Under the Mountain Rhys still helps Feyre through her Trials, and Chiara covers for them

Chiara walks in on Tamlin and Feyre, instead of Rhys. Whether she kisses Feyre instead of Rhys, is entirely up to you. But I doubt Chiara would kiss her brother’s mate, then again, to keep her alive. Who knows

Chiara and Rhys watch in horror as Feyre dies. Chiara has to watch as her mate mourns for another. Chiara steps forward and forces the other High Lords to bring Feyre back. “Unless you’re telling me you’re defying the High Lord Killer” No one defies her.

Chiara, Rhys, and Tamlin kill Amarantha, and Chiara gets the killing blow. The High Lord Killer and her brother leave Under the Mountain, but everything has changed

Tamlin, indeed, fell in love with Feyre. He fell in love because he truly believed that Feyre was his second chance. Not for a mate, but a second chance at happiness

Feyre asks for someone to save her

Chiara and Rhys show up at their wedding. “And here I thought I would at least get an invitation to your wedding, Tamlin” Chiara gives her mate a kind, cool smile.

The monthly visits start

“Tamlin said there were no High Ladies” Feyre is obviously confused by this blatant lie, since Chiara is standing in front of her and has been standing in front of her for a long time now

“Some males still can’t accept females are better. Even their own mates. Such a tragedy, though it can never be avoided”

“Mates? Your his-”

“It’s a long story”

Feyre meets the Inner Circle

Cassian and Azriel are in love, Mor and Amren are in love, but the dynamic between all six of them is far better than mere feelings between their hearts

Chiara and Rhys have a nice sibling talk about Feyre along the way

“You deserve to be happy, brother, and she is that happiness. Do not let me stop you”

“I’m the older one here, I should be comforting you”

“Alas that’s not how it is”

Disclaimer: This is where it gets choppy and messy, because I’m certain the scenes aren’t in order. Just how I remember this.

The Inn Scene and the Throne Scene still happen between Feysand, unless you ship Chiara and Feyre, then it happens between them. It’s up to you

Hybern’s forces shoot Chiara out of the sky, instead of Rhys. Rhys and Feyre look for her, while Azriel and Cassian look for the shooters

Feyre gets the Suriel along with Rhys

“Ta ta ta your mate’s sister is danger, no no no, I’ve always liked Chiara, my High Lady, did you know she came to me so long ago, ta ta ta, save her, save her like that brute was never able to. A heart of stone, a spirit of gold, yet courage of nothing”

“My what now’s sister”

Cricket noises

They save Chiara of course, followed by Feyre yelling at Rhys (or Chiara, I mean, again, up to you) because he/she didn’t tell her about the mating bond. And with Chiara, yes, Fae can have two mates, so it’s entirely possible

There are a lot of specific of ACOMAF that I don’t remember, so let’s fast forward to a scene we all remember

Tarquin, MY BOY, and the Summer Court, MY PEOPLES

I could totally see Chiara and Tarquin or Chiara and Cresseida so please, if anyone ships it, by all means, ship it

I’d also be down for her and Varian

But Tarquin, you have to admit, my young boy, is fascinated with Chiara.

She’s High Lady. She’s the High Lord Slayer. And she’s in his court, showing an interest in him? He totally has a little boy crush on her

I totally forget the specifics but you know how Amren and Feyre get the book and almost drown and laugh about it later?

Chiara is somehow in that scene too.

“You almost drowned and you’re laughing?”

“Lighten up, brother, these things don’t happen every day”

Tarquin sends them red rubies, my precious son. Chiara is slightly disappointed that she’s lost Tarquin’s allegiance, trust, faith, and so on

FEEL FREE TO SHIP THIS

skipping a lot

The Archeron Household

Boy oh boy

I would love Chiara to be in this scene

Nesta and Elain automatically think Rhys is High Lord

But Chiara just smiles, picking at her nails, “Wrong. I’m not just High Lady. I’m known as the High Lord Killer, as well, so take your pick, I suppose”

I guess you could start shipping Chiara and Nesta at some point.

Chiara defends Feyre, because she is her family now, she defends Feyre against Nesta and Elain as if Feyre was her own sister

The scene with the Queens still happens with Rhys and Feyre

skipping forward (again)

Defending the Rainbow.

Chiara kills the Attor so eventually she’ll be known as the Attor Slayer as well. She allows Feyre to fight, because this is her home now, she is a part of her court, and if she’s going to stay, she’s going to fight for their people

And Feyre does just that. She fights alongside Chiara, Chiara carrying her through the sky, allowing her to slay the flying beasts.

The best sistermance you can dream of

Now let’s fast forward again to the King of Hybern scene

I really don’t want to do the Cauldron scene, because Chiara would have never let Feyre put the Book together, that was a stupid move

Moving on

Azriel’s been shot, poison running through his veins, all hope seems to be lost

Cassian’s wings have been shredded

Chiara is standing in front of Azriel, ready to lay down her life for her older brothers. She has her arm out, putting it between the King and Cassian

Rhys is trying to protect Feyre, Cassian is by Azriel’s side (not Mor, I told you guys Cassian and Azriel are in love)

And Chiara stares down at the King, snarling “I’d love to add King Annihilator to my list. Maybe Dethroner of Kings sounds better?”

Chiara TAKES NO PRISONERS OKAY

Then Tamlin and his betrayal comes in

But he’s done it for a different reason

Chiara stares at him in complete horror, still putting her body between the King, and now him, and her family. “Why, Tamlin? I understand that our actions have destroyed our bond, but why destroy Prythian?”

“Your dream was to make Prythian a better place and this is how I plan to do it”

“You fool!”

“Lover’s quarrel?” The King, that sassy devil

Nesta and Elain are still drowned in the Cauldron

Low key I want them to die, but they don’t, my present to you

Chiara almost laughs at Nesta raising her middle finger to the King

“She’s my mate” Lucien and his big mouth about Elain

We all know what else happens

Feyre goes back to the Spring Court

Azriel is still dying

Cassian’s wings are still shredded

I’m glad I could reopen these wounds for you

Now the next scene could go two ways

If you ship Chiara and Feyre: Chiara isn’t concerned with Feyre being back in the Spring Court, she trusts her, she would put her life in Feyre’s hand, she knows Feyre is responsible. “My High Lady” Because they totally would get married and do the ceremony just like Feysand did in the cover of the night you can bet on that

If you ship Rhys and Feyre: Same as the book. But Chiara is officially willing to kill Tamlin, her mate, to get Feyre back. She’s willing to kill him, for the betrayals upon betrayals, for tearing apart lives. Chiara is no longer his redemption

This is super angsty and it would be so much better if I could remember more scenes from ACOMAF off the top of my head

Bonus - ACOWAR

CHIARA, A HEALED CASSIAN, A HEALED AZRIEL, MOR, AMREN, AND RHYSAND TRAVELLING TO THE COURTS TO UNITE THEM AND DEFEAT HYBERN

MY LONGEST YEAH BOY EVER

That’s it. That’s all I could think of. I hope this wasn’t disappointing, anon.

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thespianbooks · 3 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 22//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Just in time for ACOSF’s release tomorrow! Enjoy chapter 22!

XXX

The entire estate was abuzz with activity in preparation for the encounter with Keir and his legion of rebels. As predicted, once Rhys and the other High Lords had lifted the wards from our armed forces, Kallon alerted the steward and frantically gathered the Illyrian numbers he rallied for his rebellion. We had all been surprised when Azriel's reports indicated that those numbers had dropped—not significantly, but enough to know that we now had an advantage over the Illyrians. Those who abandoned Kallon's Illyrian rebels appeared at neither camp, leaving Cassian to assume they were remaining indifferent to either side. Regardless, they would be dealt with after this ordeal.

Through this nightmare, my heart not only ached for my mate—for the pain he endured knowing it was his mother's people who sought to betray him, but for Cassian as well. He commanded those armies, fought at their side through two wars, trained in their camps and, in spite of their ire, sought their approval. Their losses were his as well, and he took the brunt of the blame onto himself, along with their distaste. From the beginning, I saw the pain that swirled behind those hazel eyes; knowing despite everything he did, how hard he tried, they saw him as nothing more than a bastard-born Illyrian and aspired to bring him and his brothers down.

In the two days it took for Keir and his Darkbringers to arrive at Ironcrest, amidst the frenzy that ensued at the estate while every High Lord present worked and met with us in order to prepare, I tried time and time again to find a moment alone with Cassian. I wasn't sure what I would say, how I would comfort him, but I at least wanted to offer him some kind of support. He had spent the last several months, the duration of my pregnancy, trying to set me at ease; promising an end to the coup and the rebel Illyrians, all the while his own inner turmoil caused him a great deal of pain that was long-stemmed. It was my turn now to offer him some peace in the hours leading up to a confrontation he previously hoped would never occur.

By the time I managed to find the general, I had thought he was alone in the library—only seeing his winged shadow outside the double doors, until I heard Nesta's voice mingling with his in a tense and hushed conversation. I had been too far away from the doors to hear their discussion, but based on how impassioned my sister's low voice sounded, I knew better than to interrupt. Ever since opening up to me about her loss and her time with Cassian in the mountains, Nesta again began to warm towards me. She still held onto that powerful veneer, but I was glad to see that she no longer used it to push me away. Instead, she surprised my mate and I by showing up in Rhys's office with Cassian just moments before our morning meeting. With Keir and Kallon officially together at the Ironcrest camp, this would be our last assembly before all the High Lords and our forces left.

"I'll be going to this encounter," Nesta said after we concluded the session. "Since my sister is unable to travel in her condition, I will be going in her stead; as a representative of the High Lady of the Night Court."

I stared at her in disbelief, shocked that she not only acknowledged my position, but that she was volunteering to face a potentially violent conflict—for me. Despite the healthier state of mind she was in a decade later, I knew the events that took place with Hybern were still raw for her; as they still were for me. Yet here she was now, offering to represent my position in our court. I glanced at Cassian, but judging by his arrogant smirk, he already knew of her plans. I briefly exchanged a look with Rhys, a small smile on his face, but his eyes conveyed a very simple response: it was up to me.

I paused as I turned to look at my sister. Her chin set and hands clasped formerly across her abdomen as her grey-blue eyes stared intensely at mine. "Are you sure?" I asked, unable to help but be a little hesitant.

She simply nodded, unyielding. "It isn't right. For me to sit idle, when I am capable. After what happened last time-" she paused, thinking back to the attack on Velaris—when we had been housed safely in the Cabin with Elain. "You have your health, your youngling, to worry about. As your eldest sister, I can do more. I can represent you and your position in this court."

My eyes burned as I dipped my head in approval. "Thank you, Nesta."

"Well this will be a welcome addition," Helion mused. "Given how the Illyrians quake in her presence."

"Perhaps some may drop their weapons at the very sight of her," Thesan added.

"That may be wishful thinking," Tarquin said, though he too acknowledged the unnerving demeanor my sister possessed.

We all did, and knew that her attendance would no doubt send a clear message in this coup. Her powers were still unknown to us, whether she knew of them or not—she never said, but the lethal aura about her remained as strongly as it had the day she'd been made.

"If no one else has anything to add, then I say it's time," Rhys said with a look at the other High Lords, their entourages, and then at me.

My eyes still burned as I met his, my heart pounding in my chest and I wondered if he could hear it—feel it, down the bond. When no one else spoke up, he cleared his throat. "I will take Feyre up to the Cabin and meet you all at the designated camp just outside of Ironcrest," he said.

"I'll meet you there with Viviane and Eira once they are ready, it shouldn't be long, and your shadowsinger has shared the coordinates of where I should winnow," Kallias added.

Azriel nodded at the High Lord of Winter before addressing us. "I will bring Elain at the same time the High Lord and Lady of Winter arrive," he said quietly.

"Thank you Azriel," I said, quickly swiping at a stray tear.

The emotion laced in my words was indication enough for everyone to leave and attend to any last minute preparations. They were gone in a matter of seconds, but I hardly noticed; unable to look away from Rhys's violet eyes. With the room cleared, he stepped closer, holding my face gently as he brushed away the tears that began to fall in earnest.

"I know I can't go, but," I sniffed. "I don't know how I'll be able to part with you, knowing the danger you face. I...I…"

Rhys pressed his brow against mine as I wept and held me closer. For days my hormones had left me anxious for the moment my mate would leave with the others and put an end to Keir and his betrayal; so, I allowed myself to give into those emotions and the tears that accompanied them. These precious seconds in my mate's arms were just what I needed in order to feel at ease—to let him go while I stayed behind with our unborn child. Once my crying subsided, I lifted my eyes to his again and pulled back just enough to now hold his face in my hands and stare into his sparkling violet eyes.

"Don't let him get a rise out of you. You are a warrior, and warriors know when to pick their fights," I began, reiterating the very words he said to me during the war with Hybern. "Their crimes won't go unpunished. You are the High Lord of the Night Court, night triumphant. You go there, put an end to this treachery, and come back to me—to us, alive." I said fiercely, my voice quavering as our breaths mingled.

Rhysand's answering grin was slow as he nodded his head. "I swear it, High Lady," he said before pulling me into a deep kiss.

XXX

Even with my mate's promise, I couldn't help pacing about the living area of the Cabin once he, Kallias, and Azriel left. Elain and Viviane eyed me warily as I moved, Eira peacefully sleeping in a small cradle Viviane had brought along and placed just beside the leather sofa.

"Feyre, why don't you come rest?" Viviane urged as she stood, crossing over to where I had stopped pacing and began rubbing a sore spot on my lower back.

I shook my head. "I can't sit still," I said as my only reply.

It was true. The uncertainty of the events unfolding at this very moment left me restless. Until I knew Rhysand, our allies, and my friends and family were safe, I would remain on edge.

Viviane touched my shoulder gently. "You do know that walking around so vigorously can stimulate the body into going into early labor? If you keep pacing around here like this, you might very well give birth before the others return," she gave me a wry smile when I hesitated. "We don't want that now do we?"

I sighed in defeat and allowed her to help me back to the sofa, helping me lower myself onto the seat slowly.

Elain popped up just as I sat with a grunt, "I'll make us some tea!" However, just as she said that, a freshly brewed pot appeared on the table before us—along with three tea cups. She laughed nervously, remembering the magic that existed here, before going to pour us each a cup.

"I know it's hard not to worry, believe me," Viviane said as she sat beside me. "But think of it this way: this issue will finally be resolved."

I sighed in irritation. "That's all anyone has been telling me for days, what I've been telling myself," I snapped back, but immediately regretted it.

For her part, Viviane smiled in understanding-all too familiar with the quick shifts in mood that pregnancy caused.

"I just hate feeling like some kind of damsel in distress," I admitted.

"You are anything but, Feyre," Elain said as she handed me a cup.

She's right, my love

I nearly startled at the sound of Rhys's voice through the bond. Is it over? I asked in return.

His dark chuckle made me shiver. Unfortunately, we haven't started yet. We're on the front lines, waiting for Keir and Kallon to arrive

I gulped and knew this time he could feel my heart racing. I thought you might want to see things firsthand, rather than have me fill you in later

Through the bond, I felt his offering hand, dark talons beckoning me as I took it. His black adamant shields yielded to me, and a second later I was looking through my mate's eyes. From his peripheral vision, I could see Nesta standing immediately to his left while Mor and Amren stood at either side of them—Azriel and Cassian flanking them. Based on all our meetings, I knew the other High Lords, excluding Eris, were lined up just behind them. In spite of the crisp air in the Illyrian mountains, I could feel the sun on my mates' skin, could see it reflecting off his Illyrian leathers. Unlike my galloping heart, Rhys's was steady and calm; even as his sharp eyes picked up movement in the distance.

Slowly, arrogantly, Keir walked with Kallon and the commander of his Darkbringer army on either side of him. His hands were neatly folded behind his back, as they often were whenever we saw him at the Hewn City, his chin lifted proudly. Kallon at least had the sense to look a little intimidated at the sight of the three most powerful Illyrians in history on the opposite side of the battlefield; that intimidation probably coming not only from his lack of experience, but from his unexpected lack of numbers with the Illyrians. As he approached, I could see their soldiers following at a distance, but as the trio got closer, the troops stopped.

I could feel Rhys's muscles tense, wings flaring slightly at the steward's outright arrogance as he approached with a smug grin. I noticed Mor's own muscles go rigid, Amren and Nesta remained the picture of menacing ease, their cool facade's masking any rage they might've been feeling. Finally, with only a few dozen paces between them, Keir stopped in his tracks—meeting my mate face-to-face.

"Rhysand," the older male said by way of greeting.

I heard Mor growl from beside Rhys. "My lord," she corrected.

Keir didn't acknowledge her, his dark gaze penetrating as they stayed on mine—on Rhysand's.

"You forget yourself, Keir," he replied coolly, ever the embodiment of casual grace, even in the face of such blatant disrespect and deceit. "Since when do you address your High Lord by first name, and so casually too?"

The male seemed to ignore Rhys's words altogether, simply casting a glance over my mate's shoulder at the other High Lords aligned behind him—their forces also staged at an interval behind them.

"I see you've rallied this bunch. How you all actually managed to become friends after Hybern is truly a surprise to me," Keir scoffed, his disdain echoing for the word 'friends' in particular.

"Especially with that one," he motioned to Tamlin standing beside Tarquin at the far-right of the line.

I could feel Rhys's patience wavering, his dark powers seeping into his shadows and making them stir lightly. I ran my delicate fingertips along his shields to calm him, sending him another reminder: You are Night Triumphant. He is nothing.

"You openly plot against me, my mate, my crown, by rallying your army and joining with rebellious Illyrians in order to...what? Overthrow me? Kill me and take my throne as your own?" Rhys asked, his rage still in check for now.

"I've only come to take back what has rightfully belonged to my bloodline for centuries, before that ancestor of yours came along and claimed the seat of the High Lord for himself," Keir replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was one thing for your father to rule as High Lord, but to allow a half-breed disgrace to sully the throne? I have been complacent for far too long, especially now with that mate of yours carrying an abomination of such obscure proportions."

I felt Rhys hold back a growl, every ounce in his body wanting to retaliate for the threat against his mate, against me and our unborn child. Instead, he appeared outwardly unfazed. "You mean to demean my position by pointing out that I am half Illyrian, and yet here you are, allied with them," he said casually, his mask remaining the picture of ease.

"The Illyrians don't want a half-breed High Lord anymore than Keir and his lot do," Kallon spoke up. His voice was strong, but young, attesting to the inexperienced warrior that he was.

"You can come back once you've been around and bled for a few centuries, boy," Cassian retorted, all seven siphons flickering. "In the meantime, you're too wet behind the ears to speak on behalf of the Illyrians."

Keir shot Kallon a warning glance that silenced him. Turning back to Rhys, Keir straightened his shoulders, but before he could answer with some clever reply, Rhys cut him off with a laugh. A dark, whole-bodied guffaw that I had never heard come from him before. It was unscrupulous and dripped with condescension. I didn't have to see the rest of our party to feel the mood shift.

"Am I meant to be intimidated? You have your army of Darkbringers, who are assuredly substantial in numbers and skill, but yet ally yourself with the self-appointed leader of mutinous Illyrians, while said leader has only lived a couple of decades and has never seen the true course of battle," Rhys shook his head with another dark chuckle. "Perhaps the centuries haven't fared so well for you after all, it seems old age has made you lose all sense of reality"

The older male narrowed his gaze, darkened eyes igniting with contempt. "You think me a fool, Rhysand? That I wouldn't find a suitable ally outside these winged brutes?" Kallon's stare was seditious, but Keir ignored him and finally met Mor's gaze. "Perhaps, daughter, you would be glad to see another familiar face?"

Mor only raised an unamused brow at him, the sound of approaching footsteps coming from behind the group. Through my mate's eyes I saw Keir's widen as Eris stepped in line beside Tamlin; with the other High Lord's of Prythian he scoffed at only minutes before.

"Sorry about my pretty lies, Keir, but it was just too easy tricking another old male out of his sense of entitlement," Eris remarked, and though I couldn't see him, I could hear the hubris in his voice as he addressed the steward.

The male fumed at Eris's words, refusing to meet Rhysand's gaze as my mate took a step forward. "Surrender now, Keir. It's time to wake up and realize just how futile your efforts have been," Rhys said, the commanding voice of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian returning.

Of course, Keir continued to seethe as he returned a detestable look at Mor before finally facing Rhys again. He took a couple of steps forward, nostrils flaring as he spat, "You think I will yield so easily? I will correct the mistake I made centuries ago with you and murder that monstrosity your mate will bear in its cradle."

As soon as that last word came out of his mouth, everything seemed to move slowly. Blinding, white-hot rage exploded within my mate, but before he could even react, it was Mor that winnowed from his side in a split second to her father. She winnowed in behind him, an Illyrian dagger in hand, and stabbed him straight through the throat—blood splattering on her face as Keir's eyes widened again. He seemed to try and speak before Mor twisted the blade, pushing it further into his flesh. A wet, strangled sound came out of Keir's mouth as it filled with blood, Mor then kicked the back of his legs and sent him to his knees. I saw her mutter something into his ear, but couldn't hear the exact words before his body dropped to the ground in front of her.

As blood pooled from his throat, Mor stood over his body and didn't look up when Kallon shot to the skies, yelling orders to their Illyrian forces; the Darkbringer commander turning and shouting similar orders before drawing a blade aimed at Mor, who in her adrenaline-filled rage quickly pulled out her own and stabbed him through the gut. The last thing I heard was Cassian's own shouts before Rhys pushed me from his mind, sending me back to the Cabin without warning.

I gasped as though I had been holding my breath throughout the entire ordeal, grasping at my chest and stomach simultaneously as I heaved for breaths. Viviane and Elain were already at my side, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying to me as my mind raced from what I had just witnessed. Of the blood that seeped into the grass, of the gurgling sounds Keir made as he lay dying, the sounds of blades being drawn, and orders being yelled. I squeezed my eyes shut as the images kept flashing through my vision, breathing becoming nearly unattainable as I tried to desperately fight them away; reprising memories of my mate lying dead on the ground after the last war beginning to flash along with the others.

No no no no no no no

I couldn't lose him; I couldn't lose any of them.

Rhysand.Rhysand.Rhysand!

Suddenly, I felt a gentle glimmer at my core, followed by the movement of my son stretching inside of me. That glimmer seemed to warm me from the inside out as my panic slowly ebbed away, Viviane and Elain's voices finally coming through.

"Feyre? Can you hear me?" It was Viviane, and I realized then that her hands held my shoulders gently.

I opened my eyes gradually and met with her piercing and concerned blue eyes. My breaths finally regulated as she guided me back into a normal breathing cycle, knowing that I could at last hear her words. I realized then that I was clutching my belly and looked down at it as I felt my son move again. I loosed another slow breath and caressed it instead, closing my eyes as tears slipped down my cheeks.

"Oh Feyre," Elain whispered as she sat beside me, wrapping her arms around me carefully.

I leaned into her embrace, silently crying as I began to relax—this abating moment contrasting with the one I had with Rhys. Viviane rubbed my shoulder gently, and they both waited patiently for me to calm.

"I was there," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I saw what happened, through Rhysand's eyes."

Viviane frowned, "Are they all right?" She asked.

I paused. "I saw Keir die. Mor stabbed him in the throat, and then they were all shouting. Just as the fighting was about to begin, he sent me back." I said, meeting her worried gaze apologetically.

I felt Elain go rigid as I explained how Keir had been killed, no doubt recalling the gruesome details of how she had done the same with the King of Hybern. I pulled back from her arms slowly, sitting upright with a weary sigh before I went into a full detailed account of everything I had seen—that had been said and done. By the end of it, Viviane's concern seemed to marginalize.

"They'll be all right," she said. "Keir and Kallon were vastly outnumbered, so the fighting won't last for much longer. They'll have no choice but to surrender."

I nodded, though a kernel of doubt still lingered. I looked down at my stomach again, rubbing the expanse of it as my son continued to stretch and kick at his leisure. The glimmering reminder that was him had brought me back to reality, from the edge of my panic. I closed my eyes as I felt him move, feeling another flutter in response as I continued to stroke my belly.

Thank you, baby.

XXX

Hours passed and there was still no word from the others. I tried reaching down the bond on a few occasions, only to be met with my mate's impenetrable black adamant. As time went on, Eira was a welcome distraction. She awoke from her nap in good spirits, cooing and smiling at Viviane and Elain as they fussed over her. I watched from my seat with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes as I idly brushed my fingers along my stomach, thoughts still on my mate and the others as I wondered what held them for so long.

There was no doubt our numbers outweighed theirs; so, while we had hoped fighting wouldn't ensue, now that it had, it should've been settled quickly—a slaughter. I did my best to focus on Eira, picturing what my own future with Sebastian would be in a few short months, but every few minutes or so my thoughts returned to Rhysand and the others. I thought of Mor and how aptly she took out her father and his commander, what possible ramifications would come from her impulses, though I couldn't blame her for it. I wondered if Nesta and Amren had been able to keep a safe distance once the fighting began; if Azriel or Cassian would be hurt while taking down their own kind, though I knew the latter would feel more of a burden than the former.

Finally, a knock came at the door before it opened, Rhys striding inside with Azriel and Kallias following closely behind.

"Oh, thank the Cauldron!" Viviane exclaimed, gathering Eira to her breast as she quickly stood.

Kallias had his daughter and mate wrapped in his arms only seconds later, but I was too distracted with my own overwhelming relief as I saw my mate. I choked on a sob as those star-flecked violet eyes met mine, and as I struggled to push myself upright, Rhysand quickly pulled me into an embrace as he dropped to his knees before me. I slid forward, meeting his knees with mine as I landed on the ground, kissing his face and brushing back the loose strands of his hair as he did the same.

Tell me you're alright. I pleaded

I am, Feyre. Everything's alright

Though the three of them were dirty and bloodied, their faces showing the exhaustion of battle, they were here in one piece. They were alive and safe.

Rhysand's hands held my stomach gently as our brows touched, his eyes lined with silver as he stroked it gently, solace washing over him as well.

Is he...?

He's fine, we both are.

His shoulders went slack as one hand held my hip firmly. "The others…?" I asked aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fine," he said as he pressed a kiss to my brow and pulled away from me.

He helped me back onto the sofa as we faced the others. Kallias had an arm slid behind Viviane's back, and from the corner of my eye I saw Elain quickly pull her hands away from Azriel's when Rhys rose to his feet. There were still tears welled in her eyes, and I saw the shadowsinger curl his scarred fists closed once Elain's delicate ones left his touch.

"The bastards managed to hold their own for a while, but with hardly any leadership in the wake of Keir's death, we had them overrun after an hour or so," Rhys explained to us.

"Kallon's novice knowledge as a warrior showed. He stood no chance against Cassian's direction and tactics," Azriel added.

"Is he dead too?" I asked.

"Not yet. Cassian got a hold of him and knocked him unconscious. Probably would've killed him, if Rhysand hadn't insisted they take him prisoner," Kallias answered.

A quick nod at Azriel, "We have plans for him and the other camp lords that went against us." Rhys said.

"But Keir is dead? Mor killed him?" Viviane asked.

"Yes, him and about a dozen other Darkbringers. Outside of that, there weren't many casualties," Kallias replied.

"We spent the rest of the time rounding up the rest of their army as they surrendered, stationing prisoner camps that Cassian, Azriel and Devlon will oversee as we plan our next steps," Rhys went on. "As for the Darkbringers, Mor and Amren are taking them back to the Hewn City."

I gulped as I recalled Mor's rage and thought of how she would handle the army of traitors her father raised. I sighed shakily and motioned for Rhys as my relief was replaced by a wave of nausea. Taking note of my illness, he helped me to my feet without another word and I quickly crossed over to the nearest bathing room—making it to the toilet just in time as I vomited. I could barely hear the sound of the voices talking in the other room over the sound of my retching, but only a minute later Rhys entered the bathing room with me, holding my hair and rubbing my back until the nausea passed.

Resting my back against the hard planes of his chest, I closed my eyes as he flushed away the mess and summoned a cool washcloth to place on my forehead. He then lifted me in his arms easily, carrying me down the hallway and towards the small bedroom.

"They left?" I asked after I noticed how quiet it was.

Rhys nodded as he sat me on the bed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Feel better?" he asked.

I sighed heavily with a slight nod, removing the damp cloth from my head. "Yes...I think everything just hit me," I said tiredly, truly feeling the weight of it all lifting.

Is Mor okay?

"She's been waiting for that moment for centuries. Today she finally had enough," Rhys replied aloud—exhaustion as clear in his voice as it was in his eyes.

I nodded in acknowledgment and squeezed his hand, taking note of the blood that still coated his fingers. "It's over…" I whispered.

Rhys squeezed my hand back, the bed giving way as he sat beside me. "Yes, it is."

"There's still so much to do," I said, mind beginning to race.

"There is," he confirmed, a strong hand returning to the apex of my belly. "But we still have time before he comes."

My eyes stung as my sense of relief returned and I let out a wet laugh as he stroked my stomach. "He'll be safe," I said with a quiet sob.

His eyes stayed on my stomach, those beautiful eyes going distant. "He would have never been in danger if I wasn't the male that I am. If you hadn't accepted our bond, or married me, then-"

"I wouldn't be here right now if you weren't the male you are, Rhysand. He wouldn't exist without you, and I...I wouldn't either," I interrupted as I took his face in my hands again, forcing him to meet my fierce gaze.

Those violet eyes shattered at my words and a second later his arms were wrapped around me once again, pulling me onto his lap as I enveloped my arms around him in return and held him just as closely. I shook with a sob as I buried my face in his hair as his lips brushed against my neck and breathed in my scent. With this burden lifted from both of our shoulders, we no longer had to pretend to enjoy whatever short-lived peace we had been afforded during this ordeal. We now had a peace that had the potential to last for a great deal longer; a peace that our son would be born into and thrive.

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thespianbooks · 4 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 9//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

A week was all Azriel needed to gather the information we hoped wasn’t true. However, after the first few days, the spymaster realized he would have to gather intel on those closest to Keir without arousing suspicion. When low-level sentries turned up without any knowledge, Azriel moved onto interrogating the stewards' personal army of Darkbringers. Together, he, Cassian and Rhys were able to interrogate the captain of Keir’s army—Rhys wiping his memory clean after every session. He hated to do it, but after gathering details of Keir’s plan and his alliance with Kallon, he knew it was necessary.

There was indeed a coup rising against the Court of Dreams.

We filled Mor and Amren in immediately after Azriel broke the news to us, but decided it was best to leave my sisters unaware—for now. Nesta was finally in a good, albeit still cold, place after the war that took place a decade ago and Elain was also finally returning to her normal self; who she used to be before being forcefully made. My sisters were healing, and the last thing I wanted was to reopen their old wounds by revealing that their lives were once again at risk. Nesta, as observant as ever, knew something was amiss but thankfully didn’t press for any information. For now, and until we had a set plan, we could leave them in the dark.

I did my best to hide my worries in front of them, instead allowing Elain to fuss over me and the baby while Rhys and his brothers gathered intel. With all the anxiety of the coup keeping me on edge, I hardly noticed that my previous symptoms weren’t affecting me as they had before. Granted, I was still so fatigued that I slept in until noon and my nausea still plagued me from time to time; at least I was finally starting to feel some relief, which reassured everyone—especially Elain. Now that I was feeling better, she began begging to help plan the nursery. Years ago, before the completion of the construction on the estate, she asked what we should do for the room attached to mine and Rhys’s suite. I originally wanted that room to be our nursery, but at the time I decided to make it into a sitting room. Knowing that an empty nursery sat just beyond the double-doors in my suite was too painful at the time. So, in the meantime, I wanted to make some kind of use for it; despite Rhys and I hardly ever even using it anyway.

After telling Elain where I wanted the nursery, she focused all of her energy into creating the perfect space for the baby. While the Illyrians focused on gathering the information from the Court of Nightmares, I did my best to shift my attention back onto my pregnancy. At first, I went with Rhys to Hewn City to be present for the interrogations with the captain of the Darkbringers, but we hadn’t taken into account the effect winnowing would have on me during my condition. With my powers being so drained, I couldn’t do it myself, so Rhys had winnowed us in. Upon arrival, I had nearly fainted in my mates’ arms. Alarmed, he winnowed us back to Velaris, causing me to actually faint. Once I regained consciousness, a guilt-ridden Madja was there and informed us of that unfortunate side-effect she forgot to mention at our previous appointments. In her defense, said side-effect didn’t usually develop until later in pregnancy, but thanks to my tendency towards extreme fatigue, it developed sooner. There was no explanation as to why winnowing was so taxing on a pregnant female, but Madja theorized that whatever magic it originated from was the culprit.

We decided then that he would go with Cassian to Azriel’s interrogations of the Captain, and once they had the information we needed, we would schedule our official visit to Hewn City. Fortunately, Madja explained that as long as I gave myself at least an hour rest between winnowing—including some recovery time after the initial trip, that it would be safe. A part of me was grateful that I didn’t have to be there for the interrogations, because after every session Rhys returned physically and mentally drained. Even as he recounted every detail to me, I couldn’t imagine the burden and the guilt weighing on his shoulders. The Night Court was his home for centuries; he made many painful sacrifices for the sake of his people. While he did his best to separate himself from the Hewn City, they were still his people; still his court and his ancestors' court. As High Lady for over a decade, it hurt deeply to imagine the threat of a civil war, especially for the innocents here in Velaris. As High Lord for as long as Rhysand was, I knew the pain was worse for him.

“You don’t have to do this every night you know,” Rhys drawled quietly from his place in the tub, summoning me back from my thoughts.

He was leaning on the edge with his chin resting over his crossed arms while I gently scrubbed at his delicately powerful wings. I smiled at his comment, continuing to clean the dirt and debris off his wings. After the first few days of seeing how drained my mate was, I took it upon myself to spoil him with a hot bath—together, to unwind while I cleaned him.

“You won’t let me do anything else since I got pregnant, the least I can do is take care of you,” I replied, dabbing at the other wing with a soft washcloth.

“That’s precisely why. You’re pregnant, and it should be me cleaning you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me.

I rolled my eyes, “I’m not the one doing all the heavy lifting.”

“I beg to differ,” he said as he glanced at my belly, still a small swollen mound.

I tried not to smile. “Your son isn’t that heavy, yet. I’m growing a baby, but you’re,” I paused, not wanting to bring up the ugly business of the day during the time I dedicated just for us. “Doing everything else…”

He was quiet until I finished cleaning his wing and turned to face me before cupping my face in his. “You’re working just as hard as I am Feyre, on top of being pregnant,” he said.

I gripped his wrist lightly, “I know that, but just like you’re taking care of me, I want to take care of you too. This time is for me just as much as it is for you.”

His smile was crooked as he responded, “Fair enough.”

I returned his smile and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. We stayed silent for the duration for our bath, not wanting to disturb our peace, but as soon as we were back in our bedroom, I couldn’t resist bringing up our upcoming plans for our visit to the Court of Nightmares.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” I asked as I pulled out a light nightgown from my dresser.

Rhys sighed, “After lunch. Cassian and Az want to go over the reports and statements from Keir’s general. We’re trying to piece together a timeline, and Azriel will go alone to finalize details with him while we’re at court.”

I nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed after slipping on my nightgown. Now that we had most of the information we needed, tomorrow we would travel to the Hewn City and announce my pregnancy. This would be our way of reminding Keir who he served and would continue to serve. We’d solidify our reign by furthering Rhys’s lineage.

I watched as he dried himself off and changed into his own night clothes, a simple pair of black shorts, and smiled as I imagined what our son might look like at his father’s age. Would the image the Bone Carver gave me continue to evolve to resemble Rhys? Would he have some semblance of me as well? Regardless, I dreamed of him growing to look and act like his father. But the thought of my son one day being High Lord, of having to put on the same cruel façade as the rest of us, made my heart clench and Rhys noticed it in my face. He perched on the space in front of me and gingerly placed both hands on my ever-swelling stomach.

“We’ll teach him well. After all, you had a pretty good teacher, if I do say so myself,” he said with a smug grin.

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe he’ll inherit my humility, because you’re hopeless.”

Rhys threw his head back with a bark of laughter before taking hold of my face to capture my lips in a deep kiss. He held me there for a few seconds, resting his forehead against mine.

“We won’t expose him to the Court of Nightmares until he’s ready and comfortable with it. I won’t put any pressure on him, I promise,” Rhys reassured.

“I know you won’t,” I sighed. “I just...can’t picture that yet. I think.”

“Well we haven’t officially met him,” Rhys said with a smirk. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

I nodded and looked down at my stomach. “For now, I guess you have no choice but to be part of the act, but daddy will make it up to you,” I said with a smile and looked back up at Rhys, who had visibly stiffened at the new word I referred to him as.

He mouthed the word silently as I grinned and brought his hands back to my stomach, “That’s what he’s going to call you, you know.”

He nodded, matching my grin with a wicked one and wiggled his eyebrow, “I wouldn’t be opposed to you calling me that once in a while either.”

I laughed as I shoved him away, his laughter matching my own as he tackled me onto the bed.

Rhys and I stood alone at the gates outside the throne room in the Hewn City; Mor, Cassian, and Azriel already inside waiting for us at the base of the dais. They had gathered all the citizens of the city inside, on the order that their Lord and Lady were making a notable appearance today. I stared at the dark, cruel, scaled beasts carved on either pillar and ran my hands over the gentle swell of my belly. While getting ready this morning, Rhys pulled out a delicately midnight blue, floor-length, long sleeved gown fashioned of tiny sparkling crystals made to resemble lace. I nearly sobbed when my mate revealed that it was a maternity gown his mother made for me.

The impossibly soft fabric hugged my every curve, the patterned lace forming a deep ‘V’ shape over my breasts and opened in the back, allowing my tattoos to be on display. The sleeves capped at my wrists, the lace blending perfectly with the tattoos on both arms. More importantly, the gown hung over the prominence of my stomach; accentuating it enough to send our message without words. The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court were expecting.

A dangerous announcement to make so early in my pregnancy, but a necessary one thanks to the current looming threat. While we initially feared it would enable Keir to push his and Kallon’s plans into motion sooner than we hoped, now we had our timeline and knew what to expect.

“Ready to be wicked?” Rhys purred as he rested a hand on the small of my back, jolting me from my thoughts.

Glancing again at the beautifully dark and brutal carved beasts on the gates, I nodded with a smirk and turned to him. “Let’s go.”

Both straightening to our full height, Rhys moved his hand to hold mine up as he escorted me into the throne room as the gates groaned open to reveal us to our court. The gathering crowd grew eerily quiet as Rhys and I ascended across the dark marble floor. Then the gasps came as they slowly, one by one, took notice of my stomach.

Though my shoulders were already squared, I tilted my chin up a little higher as the new weight of their observations fell over me. Over the decade I had gotten used to their stares, their murmurings, every time Rhys and I visited. This time was different. A pregnant female was rare and seeing as it had been centuries since a child was born into the ruling family of the Night Court, their gaze almost felt...scandalous. My façade remained as solid as ever as Rhys escorted me to our twin thrones, the crowd ceasing any whispers of my condition as we turned to face them. I sat first, but Rhys remained standing as his eyes met with Keir’s. The male stiffened the second he saw my belly and by the murderous look on Mor’s face, standing at the foot of the dais with the two Illyrians flanking her sides, he must have revealed his immediate disgust.

I could feel Rhys’s front cracking a bit, his dark powers slowly filling the room with shadows as he stared down the steward—who, thankfully, wasn’t sneering this time as he stared back.

“Bow,” was all Rhys said, struggling with the effort to reign in his overprotective instincts from misting Keir on the spot.

While the crowd moved immediately at his order, Keir did so reluctantly, Mor’s mother at his side and following his lead. I sent a gentle wave of my power down the bond in an effort to calm my mate. Don’t let him get to you.

He didn’t respond, instead tightening up his veneer, shadows dissipating, and sat in his throne before waving an idle hand to the court. “Rise,” he commanded.

The crowd moved together as one, and he waved a hand nonchalantly in dismissal; allowing them to return to their business. Keir dismissed his wife and remained across from us before clearing his throat. “I see congratulations are in order,” he commented, his sneer returning as his eyes shifted from our faces to my stomach.

I couldn’t help the protective hand I placed over it, wanting desperately to shield my child, but I instead moved my hand to the top—just below my bust line, emphasizing it more.

“Indeed, though you don’t actually mean it, do you?” Mor drawled, her voice and face fiercely calm.

Keir ignored his daughter and returned his gaze to Rhys, apparently choosing to outright ignore my presence as well, “I take it this means your lineage will pass onto the child?”

“Did you not expect my mate and I to produce any offspring? That I would simply pass my crown onto someone who wasn’t of my blood?” Rhys replied, keeping his stare dark.

Keir shifted on his feet, “I was always under the impression that a powerful High Lord such as yourself would choose not to procreate, why create any direct competition to your rule? Just take a look at the Autumn Court; so many sons all vying for the same throne by any means necessary, including murder.”

His words dripped with disdain, his insinuations mocking. “And yet you chose to try and secure an alliance with the court you warn us of now. From the look of it, you rather idolize the idea of a son overthrowing his father, or vice versa.” I replied, my tone as icy as my mask.

Keir’s shoulders stiffened at my words, his formidable gaze meeting mine. Through the bond, I could feel Rhys’s dark shadows creeping in the corners of the room. Mor and Cassian watched us, their stares deadly and ready to intervene. Azriel was already gone to attend to his mission while we remained.

The steward tilted his head forward in a slight bow, finally acknowledging me. “I would never presume such a thing, milady. As always, I am at your service,” he said, his voice tight.

It took all of my strength not to scoff at his words or snap his neck. Instead, I slowly stood from my throne, leaving my hand on the curved apex of my belly. “My son will inherit this very throne. And if neither I nor my mate grow weary of your existence by then, you will serve him as well.”

“I’m sure your son will rule just as sufficiently, my lady.” He bit back.

The aura in the room shifted as Rhys’s dark shadows were overpowered by my own. I blasted out dark talons of my power and sank them into Keir’s mind, painfully seizing him in place as I took a slow step onto the foot of the dais just a few feet away from Mor and Cassian, who now held their breaths as they watched me. Rhys remained in his throne, his own dark power emanating with mine as I felt a silent nod of approval down the bond.

My heart pounded in my chest from the effort of my display of power, and I felt my knees shake a bit as I continued staring at Keir with an icy smile. “My son will be more than sufficient; I promise you that. As you said, he's the son of a very powerful High Lord. I should also remind you of the power of your High Lady. With the combined powers of all the High Lords in Prythian, including your High Lord, just imagine what his powers would be like? Won’t that be a magnificent sight to behold?”

I tightened my grip on him, and he did his best not to cringe in pain as he managed to hiss, “Yes, milady.”

My power slipped from him immediately as I was unable to hold on, my forehead gleaming with sweat, and it took me a few silent deep breaths before I smiled cruelly. “That’s good to hear.”

Rhys was at my side in a second as my knees trembled again. The exertion it took to intimidate Keir was draining, much more than I had anticipated. I was grateful for my floor length gown hiding my trembling legs as Rhys perched his hand on the small of my back.

Are you okay?

Yes, I just need to sit down. I reassured.

We’re leaving now, don’t worry

Keir was catching his own breath as he stared us down. As much as I didn’t want to reveal any weakness, neither did he. After a minute, he straightened again and tilted his head towards Rhys in a bow. “Is that all you needed milord? Your visit was last minute, and I was in the midst of gathering your reports.”

Azriel had showed up only seconds prior to Keir speaking, giving a silent nod to me and Rhys, indicating he gathered the last of the intel we needed. Rhys waved an idle hand at Keir, “The High Lady and I wanted to share our news and be on our way. Go. Continue to serve me as you have,” he said as he began escorting me back towards the gated doors, Mor, Cassian, and Azriel trailing behind us.

We stopped before stepping into the frame, looking back over his shoulder at Keir--who remained at his same spot before our thrones. “Unless, of course, we grow tired of your existence,” he drawled before we continued out the doors.

The minute we were out of view of him, and the rest of the court patrons, he scooped me up into his arms and flew us into the palace above the mountains, the others right behind us. Amren was waiting in the open hall, seated on a settee, but popped up immediately when she took in my pale features.

“What happened?” She asked, but Rhys ignored her, sitting me gingerly on the settee and kneeling before me to check over my condition.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him and the others as they gathered around me, the jasmine scented breeze already doing wonders to soothe my tired body as I breathed deeply. “That took a lot more effort than it used to, that’s all.”

Mor sighed in relief before grinning smugly, “You did a damn fine job though, the look on his face was priceless.” she boasted.

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, “I have to admit, you even intimidated me a little bit.”

I smiled tiredly as Rhys stood, facing them. “It intimidated him for now. Maybe that’ll be enough to stumble his plans with Kallon for a while. That alliance explains why he’s been more and more arrogant these past years, but our news of the baby today threw a wrench in their plans. A temporary one at least.”

“Did you get everything you needed?” I asked Azriel.

Everyone turned to the shadowsinger, who nodded. “I went over our timeline with the general, he confirmed the details, but revealed one more possible player.”

We all paused, and Rhys frowned, “Another alliance?”

Azriel nodded, causing Cassian and Mor to curse. Amren crossed her arms, “Let me guess. Beron?”

He nodded again, and Rhys cursed as I sighed. “He really wants that damn alliance with Beron, doesn’t he?” I asked.

“Did the general know what Beron’s role in all this is?” Rhys asked.

Azriel shook his head, “He only knew that they’ve been exchanging letters. No one seems to know what the letters say, or any other context, but it's rumored that it has to do with the coup.”

“We need to keep interrogating the general,” Cassian said. “He’ll find out eventually, and we need him to keep relaying information.”

Rhys nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep my grip on his mind, making sure he forgets but also start leading him to inquire about the letters.”

“I can get one of my spies to keep tabs on Keir,” Azriel insisted, but Rhys shook his head.

“This is a better way in. We can’t let Keir know we’re onto him. We already have your spies trailing Kallon and monitoring the camps in the mountains. Kallon thinks it’s part of our normal rotation. If Keir notices the same presence, he’ll connect the dots.” He explained.

Azriel and Cassian nodded in agreement. “So, what do we do now?” I asked, and one by one everyone took notice of my hand idly caressing my stomach.

Now that the Court of Nightmares knew of my pregnancy, word would spread quickly over the entire Night Court, including the Illyrians. Those behind this rising coup would find a way to regroup and create some new plan of action, that was guaranteed. The news of a potential new alliance with another court meant that their numbers were even greater now. My eyes met with Rhys’s as we both realized at the same time what our next move was.

“We need to call on our friends for an early summit meeting.”

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