Mor had already commandeered a table at the riverfront cafรฉ, an arm slung across the back of a wrought-iron chair, the other elegantly draped over her crossed knees. Cassian halted a few feet from the maze of tables along the walkway, smiling to himself at the sight of her: head tipped toward the sun, unbound hair gleaming and rippling around her like liquid gold, her full lips curled upward, basking in the light.
She never stopped appreciating the sunshine. Even five hundred years after leaving that veritable prison sheโd called home and the monsters who claimed her as kin, his friendโhis sister, honestlyโstill savored every moment in the sun. As if the first seventeen years of her life, spent in the darkness of the Hewn City, still lurked around her like Azโs shadows.
Cassian cleared his throat as he approached the table, offering pleasant smiles to the other patrons and people along the walkway who either gawked or waved at him, and by the time he sat, Mor was already smirking, her brown eyes lit with amusement.
โDonโt start,โ he warned, settling his wings around the chairโs back and motioning to the owner of the cafรฉ, who knew him well enough to understand that meant he wanted waterโno tea or sweets, both of which Mor had before her.
Mor grinned, so beautiful it took his breath away. โCanโt I enjoy the sight of my friend being fawned over by the public?โ
He rolled his eyes, and murmured his thanks to the owner as a pitcher of water and a glass appeared before him.
Mor said when the owner had gone to tend to other tables, โI seem to remember a time when you enjoyed that sort of thing, too.โ
โI was a young, arrogant idiot.โ He cringed to recall how heโd strutted around after successful battles or missions, believing he deserved the praise of strangers. For too damn long, heโd indulged in that bullshit. It had taken walking these same streets after Rhys had been imprisoned by Amarantha
โafter Rhys sacrificed so much to shield this city, and seeing the disappointment and fear in so many facesโto make Cassian realize what a fool heโd been.
Mor cleared her throat, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. She didnโt possess Rhysโs skill set, but having survived in the Court of Nightmares, sheโd learned to read the subtlest of expressions. A mere blink, sheโd once told him, might mean the difference between life and death in that miserable court. โSheโs settled, then?โ
Cassian knew who she meant. โTaking a nap.โ Mor snorted.
โDonโt.โ His attention drifting to the glittering Sidra mere feet away. โPlease donโt.โ
Mor sipped her tea, the portrait of elegant innocence. โWeโd be better off throwing Nesta into the Court of Nightmares. Sheโd thrive there.โ
Cassian clenched his jaw, both at the insult and the truth. โThatโs exactly the sort of existence weโre trying to steer her away from.โ
Mor assessed him with a bob of her thick lashes. โIt pains you seeing her like this.โ
โAll of it pains me.โ He and Mor had always had this kind of relationship: truth at all costs, however harsh. Ever since that first and only time theyโd slept together, when heโd learned too late that sheโd hidden from him the terrible repercussions. When heโd seen her broken body and known that even if sheโd lied to him, heโd still played a part.
Cassian blew out a breath, shaking away the blood-soaked memory still staining his mind five centuries later. โIt pains me that Nesta has become โฆ this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each otherโs throats. It
pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too. It pains me that โฆโ He drummed his fingers on the table, then sipped from his water. โI really donโt want to talk about it.โ
โAll right.โ The breeze ruffled the gauzy fabric of Morโs twilight-blue dress.
He again let himself admire her perfect face. Beyond the disastrous consequences for Mor after their night together, the fallout with Rhys afterward had been awful, and Azriel had been so furious in his own quiet way that Cassian had quelled any further desire for Mor. Had let lust turn into affection, and all romantic feelings turn into familial bonds. But he could still admire her sheer beautyโas heโd admire any work of art. Even though he knew well that what lay inside Mor was far more lovely and perfect than her exterior.
He wondered if she knew that.
Drinking again, he said, โTell me what happened in Vallahan.โ The ancient, mountainous Fae territory across the northern sea had been stirring since before the war with Hybern, and had been both enemy and ally to Prythian in different historical eras. What role Vallahanโs hot-tempered king and proud people would play in this new world of theirs was yet to be decided, though much of its fate seemed to depend upon Morโs now-frequent presence at their court as Rhysโs emissary.
Indeed, Morโs eyes shuttered. โThey donโt want to sign the new treaty.โ โFuck.โ Rhys, Feyre, and Amren had spent months working on that
treaty, with input from their allies in other courts and territories. Helion, High Lord of the Day Court and Rhysโs closest ally, had been the most involved. Helion Spell-Cleaver was unrivaled in sheer, swaggering arroganceโheโd probably made up the moniker himself. But the male had one thousand libraries at his disposal, and had put them all to good use for the treaty.
โIโve spent weeks in that blasted court,โ Mor said, poking at the flaky pastry beside her teacup, โfreezing my ass off, trying to kissย theirย cold asses, and their king and queen refused the treaty. I came home on the earlier side today because I knew any more last-minute pushing from me
would be unwelcome. My time there was supposed to be a friendly visit, after all.โ
โWhy wonโt they sign it?โ
โBecause those stupid human queens are stirringโtheir army still isnโt disbanded. The Queen of Vallahan even asked me what the point of a peace treaty would be when another war, this time against the humans, might redraw the territory lines far below the wall. I donโt think Vallahan is interested in peace. Or allying with us.โ
โSo Vallahan wants another war in order to add to their territory?โ Theyโd already seized more than their fair share after the War five hundred years ago.
โTheyโre bored,โ Mor said, frowning with distaste. โAnd the humans, despite those queens, are far weaker than we are. Pushing into human lands is low-hanging fruit. Montesere and Rask are likely thinking the same thing.โ
Cassian groaned skyward. That had been the fear during the recent war: that those three territories across the sea might ally with Hybern. Had they, there would have been no chance at all of survival. Now, even with Hybernโs king dead, its people remained angry. An army might be raised again in Hybern. And if it united with Vallahan, if Montesere and Rask joined with the goal of claiming more territory from the humans โฆ โYou already told Rhys this.โ
It wasnโt a question, but Mor nodded. โThatโs why heโs asking you to look into whatโs going on with the human queens. Iโm taking a few days off before I head back to Vallahanโbut Rhys needs to know where the human queens stand in all of this.โ
โSo youโre supposed to convince Vallahan not to start another war, and Iโm supposed to convince the human queens not to do so, either?โ
โYou wonโt get near the human queens,โ Mor said frankly. โBut from what I observed in Vallahan, I know theyโre up to something. Planning something. We just canโt figure out what, or why the humans would be stupid enough to start a war they cannot win.โ
โTheyโd need something in their arsenal that could grant them the advantage.โ
โThatโs what you have to find out.โ
Cassian tapped his booted foot on the stones of the walkway. โNo pressure.โ
Mor drained her tea. โPlaying courtier isnโt all nice clothes and fancy parties.โ
He scowled. Long moments passed in amiable silence, though Cassian half-heard the wind whispering over the Sidra, the merry chatter of the people around them, the clink of silverware against plates. Content to let him think, Mor returned to her sunning.
Cassian straightened. โThereโs one person who knows those queens inside and out. Who can offer some insight.โ
Mor opened an eye, then slowly sat forward, hair falling around her like a rippling golden river. โOh?โ
โVassa.โ Cassian hadnโt dealt much with the ousted human queenโthe only good one out of the surviving group, who had been betrayed by her fellow queens when theyโd sold her to a sorcerer-lord whoโd cursed her to be a firebird by day, woman by night. Sheโd been lucky: theyโd given the other rebellious queen in their midst to the Attor. Who had then impaled her on a lamppost a few bridges away from where Cassian and Mor now sat.
Mor nodded. โShe might be able to help.โ
He leaned his arms on the table. โLucien is living with Vassa. And Jurian. Heโs supposed to be our emissary to the human lands. Let him deal with it.โ
Mor took another bite from her pastry. โLucien canโt be entirely trusted anymore.โ
Cassian started. โWhat?โ
โEven with Elain here, heโs become close with Jurian and Vassa. Heโs voluntarily living with them these days, and not just as an emissary. As their friend.โ
Cassian went over all heโd heard and observed from his encounters with Lucien since the war, trying to contemplate it like Rhys and Mor would. โHeโs spent months helping them sort out the politics of who rules Prythianโs slice of the human lands,โ Cassian said slowly. โSo Lucien canโt be unbiased in reporting to us on Vassa.โ
Mor nodded gravely. โLucien might mean well, but any reports would be skewedโeven if he isnโt aware of itโin their favor. We need someone outside of their little bubble to collect information and report.โ She finished off her pastry. โWhich would be you.โ
Fine. That made sense. โWhy havenโt we already contacted Vassa about this?โ
Mor waved a hand, though her shadowed eyes belied her casual gesture. โBecause weโre just now piecing it all together. But you should definitely speak with her, when you can. As soon as you can, actually.โ
Cassian nodded. He didnโt dislike Vassa, though meeting her would also entail talking with Lucien and Jurian. The former heโd learned to live with, but the latter โฆ It didnโt matter that it turned out that Jurian had been fighting on their side. That the human general whoโd been Amaranthaโs tortured prisoner for five centuries had played Hybern after being rebirthed by the Cauldron, and had helped Cassian and his family win the war. Cassian still didnโt like the man.
He rose, leaning to ruffle Morโs shining hair. โI miss you these days.โ Sheโd been away frequently lately, and each time she returned, a shadow he couldnโt place dimmed her eyes. โYou know weโd warn you if Keir ever came here.โ Her asshole of a father still hadnโt called in his favor with Rhys: to visit Velaris.
โEris bought me time.โ Her words were laced with acid.
Cassian had tried not to believe it, but he knew Eris had done it as a gesture of good faith. Heโd invited Rhysand into his mind to see exactly why heโd convinced Keir to indefinitely delay his visit to Velaris. Only Eris had that sort of sway with the power-hungry Keir, and whatever Eris had offered Keir in exchange for not coming here was still a mystery. At least to Cassian. Rhys probably knew. From Morโs pale face, he wondered if she knew, too. Eris must have sacrificed something big to spare Mor from her fatherโs visit, which would have likely been timed for a moment that would maximize tormenting her.
โIt doesnโt matter to me.โ Mor waved off the conversation with a flip of her hand. He could tell something else was eating at her. But sheโd let him in when she was ready.
Cassian walked around the table and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. โGet some rest.โ He shot skyward before she could answer.
Nesta woke to pure darkness.
Darkness that she had not witnessed in years now. Since that ramshackle cottage that had become a prison and a hell.
Jolting upright, hands clutching at her chest, she gasped for air. Had it been some fever dream on a winterโs night? She was still in that cottage, still starving and poor and desperateโ
No. The air in the room was toasty, and she was the lone person in the bed, not clinging to her sisters for warmth, always squabbling over who got the coveted middle place in the bed on the coldest nights, or the edges on the hottest summer ones.
And though sheโd become as bony as sheโd been during those long winters โฆ this body was new, too. Fae. Powerful. Or it had once been.
Scrubbing at her face, Nesta slid from the bed. The floors were warmed.
Not the icy wooden planks in the cottage.
Padding to the window, she drew back the drapes and peered out at the darkened city below. Golden lights shone along the streets, dancing on the twining band of the Sidra. Beyond that, only starlight silvered the lowlands before the cold and empty sea.
A scan of the sky revealed nothing regarding how far off dawn might be, and a long moment of listening suggested the household remained asleep. All three of them who occupied it.
How long had she slept? Theyโd arrived by eleven in the morning, and sheโd fallen asleep soon after that. Sheโd consumed absolutely nothing all day. Her stomach grumbled.
But she ignored it, leaning her brow against the cool glass of the window. She let the starlight gently brush her head, her face, her neck. Imagined it running its shimmering fingers down her cheek, as her mother had done for her and her alone.
My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen โฆ You shall wed for conquest.
Her mother would thrash in her grave to know that, years later, her Nesta had come dangerously close to marrying a weak-willed woodcutterโs son who had sat idly by while his father beat his mother. Who had put his hands on her when she called things off between them. Who had then attempted to take what she hadnโt offered.
Nesta had tried to forget Tomas. She often found herself wishing the Cauldron had ripped those memories away just as it had her humanity, but his face sometimes sullied her dreams. Her waking thoughts. Sometimes, she could still feel his rough hands pawing at her, bruising her. Sometimes, the coppery tang of his blood still coated her tongue.
Pulling back from the window, Nesta studied those distant stars again.
Half-wondered if they might speak.
My Nesta, her mother had always called her, even on her deathbed, so wasted and pale from typhus.ย My little queen.
Nesta had once delighted in the title. Had done her best to fulfill its promise, indulging in a dazzling life that had melted away as soon as the debtors swept in and all her so-called friends had revealed themselves to be nothing more than envious cowards wearing smiling masks. Not one of them had offered to help save the Archeron family from poverty.
They had thrown them all, mere children and a crumbling man, to the wolves.
So Nesta had become a wolf. Armed herself with invisible teeth and claws, and learned to strike faster, deeper, more lethally. Had relished it. But when the time came to put away the wolf, sheโd found it had devoured her, too.
The stars flickered above the city, as if blinking their agreement. Nesta curled her hands into fists and climbed back into bed.
Cauldron damn him, maybe he shouldnโt have agreed to bring her here.
Cassian lay awake in his behemoth of a bedโlarge enough for three Illyrian warriors to sleep side by side, wings and all. Little in the room itself had changed in the past five hundred years. Mor occasionally groused about
wanting to redecorate the House of Wind, but he liked this room how it was.
Heโd awoken at the sound of a door shutting and been instantly alert, heart hammering as he pulled free the knife he kept on the nightstand. Two more were hidden under his mattress, another set above the doorway, and two swords lay beneath the bed and in a dresser drawer, respectively. That was just his collection. The Mother knew what Az had stored in his own room.
He supposed that between him, Az, Mor, and Rhys, in the five centuries theyโd used the House of Wind, they had filled it with enough weapons to arm a small legion. Theyโd hidden and stashed and forgotten about so many of them that there was always a good chance of sitting on a couch and being poked in the ass by something. And a good chance that most of the weapons were now little more than rust in their sheaths.
But the ones in this bedroom, those he kept oiled and clean. Ready.
The knife gleamed in the starlight, his Siphons fluttering with red light as his power scanned the hall beyond the door.
But no threat emerged, no enemy breaching the new wards. Hybernโs soldiers had broken through more than a year ago, nearly getting their hands on Feyre and Nesta in the library. He hadnโt forgotten itโthat terror on Nestaโs face as sheโd raced for him, arms outstretched.
But the sound in the hall โฆ Azriel, heโd realized a heartbeat later.
That heโd heard the door at all told him Az wanted him aware of his return. Hadnโt wanted to talk, but had wanted Cassian to know that he was around.
Which had left Cassian here, staring at the ceiling, his Siphons slumbering once more and knife again sheathed and set on the nightstand. From the starsโ position, he knew it was past threeโdawn was still far off. He should get some sleep. Tomorrow would be hard enough.
As if his silent plea had gone out into the world, a smooth male voice purred into his mind.ย Why are you up so late?
Cassian scanned the sky beyond the wall of windows, as if heโd see Rhys flying there.ย I have the same question for you.
Rhys chuckled.ย I told you: I had some apologizing to do with my mate.
A long, wicked pause.ย Weโre taking a break.
Cassian laughed.ย Let the poor female sleep.
She was the one who initiated this round.ย Pure male satisfaction edged every word.ย You still didnโt answer my question.
Why are you snooping on me at this hour?
I wanted to make sure all was well. Itโs not my fault you were already
up.
Cassian let out a soft groan.ย Itโs fine. Nesta went to sleep right after we
got here and stayed in bed. Iโm assuming sheโs still asleep.
You got there before eleven. I know.
Itโs three fifteen in the morning. I know.
The silence was pointed enough that Cassian added,ย Donโt butt in. I wouldnโt dream of it.
Cassian didnโt particularly want to have this conversation, not at three in the morning and certainly not twice in one day.ย Iโll check in tomorrow night with an update on the first lesson.
Rhysโs pause was again too pointed to ignore. But his brother said,ย Mor will bring you up to Windhaven. Good night, Cass.
The dark presence in his mind faded, leaving him hollow and chilled. Tomorrow would be a battlefield unlike any other heโd walked onto.
Cassian wondered how much of him would be left intact by the end of
it.