Chapter no 51

A Court of Silver Flames

โ€œSo you mean to tell me,โ€ Emerie muttered from the side of her mouth as they stood in the training ring two days later, โ€œthat you got into a fight with your family, disappeared for a week with Cassian, and came back able to use anย actualย sword, but Iโ€™m supposed to believe you when you sayย nothing happened?โ€

Gwyn snickered, her attention fixed on tying a length of white silk ribbon to a wood beam jutting from the side of the pit. Neither the ribbon nor the beam had been there a week ago, and Nesta had no idea how theyโ€™d even anchored the wood into the stone, but there it was.

The crisp morning wind ruffled Nestaโ€™s hair. โ€œThatโ€™s exactly what Iโ€™m telling you.โ€

โ€œTell me you at least had a weekโ€™s worth of sex,โ€ Emerie muttered.

Nesta choked on a laugh as Cassian stiffened across the ringโ€”but he didnโ€™t turn. โ€œThere might have been some.โ€ After that night beside the lake, she and Cassian had lingered there for two entire days, either training with his sword or fucking like animals on the shore, in the water, bent over a boulder as she moaned his name so loudly it echoed off the peaks around them. Heโ€™d taken her over and over, and sheโ€™d clawed at him and torn his skin every time, as if she could climb into him and fuse their souls.

Theyโ€™d returned last night, and sheโ€™d been too tired to venture to his room. She assumed heโ€™d been called to the river house, because he hadnโ€™t

been at dinner, nor had he sought her out.

She wasnโ€™t ready to see Feyre, though. For all sheโ€™d confessed to Cassian, that step โ€ฆ Sheโ€™d face it soon.

โ€œDone,โ€ Gwyn declared, the white ribbon fluttering in the wind where it hung from the beam. Behind them, a few of the priestesses working with Azriel had turned to see what the ribbon business was about. The shadowsinger crossed his arms, angling his head, but remained in his half of the ring.

Cassian, however, approached Gwynโ€™s handiwork and ran the white silk between two fingers. Nesta couldnโ€™t stop her blush.

Heโ€™d done that by the lake: after heโ€™d fucked her with his fingers, heโ€™d held her gaze while he rubbed them together, testing the slide of her wetness against his skin the same way he was touching that ribbon. From the way his hazel eyes darkened, she knew he was recalling the same.

But Cassian cleared his throat. โ€œExplain,โ€ he ordered Gwyn.

Gwyn squared her shoulders. โ€œThis is the Valkyrie test for whether your training is complete and youโ€™re ready for battle: cut the ribbon in half.โ€

Emerie snorted. โ€œWhat?โ€

But Cassian made a contemplative noise, gesturing to the other half of the ring. โ€œAz told me you also started preliminary work with the steel blades while we were gone.โ€ He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence. โ€œSo show me what you learned. Cut the ribbon in two.โ€

โ€œWe slice the ribbon in two,โ€ Emerie asked Gwyn warily, โ€œand our training is complete?โ€

Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer. She said, โ€œIโ€™m not entirely sure.โ€

Cassian released the ribbon. โ€œA warriorโ€™s training is never complete, but if youโ€™re able to slice this ribbon in twoโ€”with one cutโ€”then Iโ€™d say you can hold your own against most enemies. Even if youโ€™ve only been training for a little while.โ€ At their silence, he looked between them. โ€œWhoโ€™s first?โ€

Again, the three of them swapped glances. Nesta frowned. Whoever went first would get the brunt of the humiliation. Gwyn shook her head. No

way in hell.

Emerieโ€™s mouth popped open. โ€œWhy me?โ€ she demanded.

โ€œWhat?โ€ Cassian asked, and Nesta realized they hadnโ€™t been speaking. โ€œYouโ€™re oldest,โ€ Gwyn said, nudging Emerie toward the ribbon.

Emerie groused, but stepped up to the dangling ribbon, grudgingly taking the sword Cassian extended. Azriel murmured over a shoulder to the priestesses under his charge as they watched. They instantly began moving again. But Azrielโ€™s attention remained on the ribbon.

โ€œShould we bet?โ€ Gwyn asked Nesta.

โ€œShut up,โ€ Emerie hissed, though amusement lit her eyes. Nesta smirked. โ€œGo ahead, Emerie.โ€

Cursing under her breath, wings tucking in tight, Emerie lifted the blade in near-perfect form and sliced at the ribbon.

The white silk fluttered and bent around the blade. And absolutely did not slice in two.

โ€œLetโ€™s all admit we knew that would happen,โ€ Emerie said, teeth bared as she slashed the sword again. The ribbon danced harmlessly away.

Cassian clapped her shoulder. โ€œLooks like Iโ€™ll see you at training tomorrow.โ€

โ€œAsshole,โ€ Nesta muttered.

Cassian laughed and took the sword from Emerie, andโ€”in the same breathโ€”spun, swiping low and even.

The bottom half of the ribbon fluttered to the ground. A perfect slice. He grinned. โ€œAt least I can cut the ribbon.โ€

 

 

Nesta didnโ€™t forget that parting shot. Not as they finished training for the day, and certainly not when she dragged Cassian down the stairs, straight to his bedroom, need bellowing in her veins.

Cassian apparently felt the same, as heโ€™d scarcely spoken these last few minutes, his eyes blazing bright. They only made it as far as his desk against the wall before sheโ€™d grabbed himโ€”right as heโ€™d pushed her down onto the wooden surface and stripped off her pants.

Bent over the desk, her bottom half entirely exposed, Nesta ground her aching nipples into the wood surface, savoring the brutal crush. Her jacket, her shirt, her bootsโ€”all stayed on. In fact, her pants were only pushed down to her ankles, restricting her movement further. Leaving her utterly at his mercy.

And as his cock at last sank deep into her, the two of them groaned. He stood behind her, one hand braced on the desk, the other clenching her hip as he pulled out nearly to the tip, then pushed back in slowly. Nesta writhed. โ€œI could fuck you for days,โ€ he said against her sweaty neck. She moaned into a pile of papers. โ€œIโ€™m fucking soaked with you,โ€ he growled,

and the hand at her hip slid around to tease the apex of her thighs.

At the first taunting stroke, she breathed, โ€œCassian.โ€

He pounded into her at a steady, deep pace. The liquid slide of his cock into her sounded obscenely through his otherwise silent bedroom. His balls brushed against her, tickling her with each powerful thrust. โ€œHarder.โ€ She wanted him imprinted on her very bones. โ€œHarder.โ€

โ€œFuck,โ€ he exploded on a breath, and pulled back from where heโ€™d braced himself. โ€œHold on to the desk,โ€ he ordered, and Nesta stretched to grip the edges just as his hands landed on her hips. His thighs pushed into her own, spreading her furtherโ€”as wide as she could goโ€”and he gave no warning before his hands tightened and he unleashed himself.

Exquisite, punishing thrusts slammed so deep he hit her innermost wall, and her eyes rolled back into her head at the sheer bliss of it. He became savage, unrelenting. She might have been sobbing at the pleasure, the sheer size of him, so large there would never be any getting used to it. Every unrelenting push had her inching against the desk, the wood and papers teasing her breasts, and she nearly wept at that, too.

Cassianโ€™s fingers dug into her hips so hard Nesta knew sheโ€™d bruise, loved that sheโ€™d bruise. He shifted his stance, and his cock plunged even deeper, rubbing against that spot, and the sounds that came from her werenโ€™t human or Fae, but something far more primal.

โ€œFuck, yes,โ€ he snarled at her abandon. โ€œThatโ€™s it, Nesta.โ€ He accentuated each word with a savage thrust. โ€œDo I feel good to you?โ€

She whimpered her confirmation, then managed to say, โ€œI like it when you ride me hard. Every time I move and my body is sore โ€ฆโ€ She had to fight for words. For control. โ€œI think of you. Of your cock.โ€

โ€œGood. I want my cock to be the only thing you think about.โ€ His pace faltered as he licked up the column of her neck. She could hear the taunting smile in his words as he whispered, โ€œBecause your pretty little cunt is the only thing I think about.โ€

At the words, his foul language, her toes curled. But she wouldnโ€™t let him win this one, not when this had somehow become a competition for who could make the other come first, so she whispered, โ€œI love being so covered in your seed that it leaks out of me for ages afterward. I love feeling it slide down my thighs and knowing you left your mark in me.โ€

โ€œFuck,โ€ he blew out, his pounding wild now, so unchecked only her hold on the desk kept her feet on the ground. โ€œFuck!โ€

Cassian came with a roar, and at the first pulse of his cock spurting deep into her, she climaxed, screaming loud enough that he clamped a hand over her mouth. She bit down on his fingers, and he kept moving in her, spilling himself over and over. Until his seed was again running down her thighs, until he slid his fingers through a stream of it and brought it up to that spot at the apex of her sex. โ€œYou have no idea what you just started,โ€ he whispered in her ear, smearing his wetness there, rubbing into her sensitive flesh with idle circles.

Nesta didnโ€™t reply as his fingers flicked against her, and she came again.

 

 

Nesta did not venture down to the city to see Feyre. Or Amren.

But she kept going to the stairs. She hadnโ€™t been able to reach the bottom again. Part of her knew that if she wanted to, she might accomplish itโ€”just as she might open her mouth and ask Cassian to take her to the river house. But she didnโ€™t.

So she kept trying the stairs for another week straight, always getting about halfway down before turning back, her legs absolute jelly by the time she returned to the hallway.

It was fitting, given that her arms were jelly, too. Yes, she wielded the sword with her entire body, but her arms hurt most of all. And it didnโ€™t help that theyโ€™d started on shields now.

No one had managed to slice Gwynโ€™s ribbon in two.

They all tried at the start and end of every lesson, and all failed. Nesta had begun to resent the sight of a ribbon anywhereโ€”tying back Roslinโ€™s red hair, folded in the accessory drawer of her dressing table, even bound for place-keeping into the latest romance Emerie had loaned her. They all laughed at her. Taunted her.

So Nesta ran the steps, and practiced, and failed. She took Cassian to her bed every night and sometimes during the day, though they never slept in each otherโ€™s rooms. Not once. They fucked, they savaged each other, and then they parted.

No matter that there were some nights when she wanted him to stay. Wanted to roll off him and snuggle into his warmth and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. But he always left before she mustered the courage to ask.

Nesta was leafing through a tome of military history in the libraryโ€”that hadย oneย paragraph on Valkyrie ambush strategiesโ€”when Gwyn appeared. โ€œTell me you found their secret to cutting the ribbon.โ€

โ€œYou and that ribbon,โ€ Nesta muttered, shutting the tome. Of all of them, Gwyn had become the most relentless about succeeding.

Gwyn crossed her arms, pale robes rustling. She winced and rubbed her shoulder. โ€œDid you know shields weighed so much? I certainly didnโ€™t. No wonder the Valkyries learned to use them as weapons as deadly as their swords.โ€ She sighed. โ€œTheyโ€™d have been quite a sight in battle: cracking open enemy skulls with blows from their shields, throwing them to knock an opponent onto their backs before skewering them โ€ฆโ€ She rubbed her shoulder again. โ€œTheir arm muscles must have been as hard as steel.โ€

Nesta snorted. โ€œIndeed.โ€ She cocked her head. โ€œNow that youโ€™re here, I want to ask a favor.โ€

Gwyn arched a brow. โ€œAbout the Trove?โ€

โ€œNo.โ€ Nesta knew she had to scryโ€”soonโ€”for the Harp. Sheโ€™d lost a good week in the mountains, and if Queen Briallyn already had the Crown

โ€ฆ Time was not on their side. But she said, โ€œYou mentioned a while ago that you have evening servicesโ€”with music, right?โ€

Gwyn smiled. โ€œOh, yes. You want to join us? I promise, itโ€™s not all religious stuff. I mean, it is, but itโ€™s beautiful. And the cave we have the service in is beautiful, too. It was carved by the underground river that flows beneath the mountain, so the walls are smooth as glass. And itโ€™s acoustically perfectโ€”the shape and size of the space amplifies and clarifies each voice within.โ€

โ€œIt sounds heavenly,โ€ Nesta admitted.

โ€œIt is.โ€ Gwyn smiled again, eyes lighting with pride. โ€œSome of the songs youโ€™ll hear are so ancient they predate the written word. Some of them are so old we didnโ€™t even have them in Sangravah. Clotho found them in books shelved below Level Seven. Hanaโ€”sheโ€™ll be the one who plays the luteโ€”figured out how to read the music.โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll be there.โ€ Nesta shifted on her feet. โ€œI think I need something like that.โ€ At Gwynโ€™s quizzical look, Nesta said, โ€œI โ€ฆโ€ She fumbled for the smoothest way to say it. โ€œI โ€ฆโ€

Gwyn slid her hands into the robeโ€™s pockets, her face openโ€”waiting.

Nesta finally said, letting herself voice the words, โ€œAfter the war, I was in a bad place. I still am, I suppose, but for more than a year after the war

โ€ฆโ€ She couldnโ€™t look Gwyn in the eye. โ€œI did a lot of things I regret. Hurt people I regret harming. And I hurt myself. I drank day and night and I โ€ฆโ€ She didnโ€™t want to say the word to Gwynโ€”fuckedโ€”so she said, โ€œI took strangers to my bed. To punish myself, to drown myself.โ€ She shrugged a shoulder. โ€œItโ€™s a long story, and not one worth telling, but through it all, I picked taverns and pleasure halls to frequent because of the music. Iโ€™ve always loved music.โ€ She braced herself for the damning judgment. But only sorrow filled Gwynโ€™s face.

โ€œYouโ€™ve probably guessed that my residency in the House, my training, my work in the library is my sisterโ€™s attempt to help me.โ€ Her sister whom she had still not apologized to, whom she still didnโ€™t have the courage to face. โ€œAnd I โ€ฆ I think I might be glad Feyre did this for me. The drinking, the malesโ€”I donโ€™t miss any of it. But the music โ€ฆ that I miss.โ€ Nesta waved a hand, as if she could banish the vulnerability sheโ€™d offered up. But

she went on, โ€œAnd since Iโ€™m not particularly welcome in the city, I was hoping you meant it when you said I could come to one of your services. Just so I can hear some music again.โ€

Gwynโ€™s eyes shone, like the sunlight on a warm sea. Nestaโ€™s heart thundered, waiting for her reply. But Gwyn said, โ€œYour story is worth telling, you know.โ€

Nesta began to object, but Gwyn insisted, โ€œIt is. But yesโ€”if you want music, then come to the services. We will be glad to have you.ย Iย will be glad to have you.โ€

Until Gwyn learned how horrible sheโ€™d been.

โ€œNo,โ€ Gwyn said, apparently reading the thought on her face. She grabbed Nestaโ€™s hand. โ€œYou โ€ฆ I understand.โ€ Nesta heard Gwynโ€™s own heart begin thundering. โ€œI understand,โ€ Gwyn repeated, โ€œwhat it is to โ€ฆ fail the people who mean the most. To live in fear of people finding out. I dread you and Emerie learning my history. I know that once you do, youโ€™ll never look at me the same again.โ€ Gwyn squeezed Nestaโ€™s hand.

Her story would come later. Nesta let her see it in her face, that when Gwyn was ready, nothing she could reveal would make her walk away.

โ€œCome to the service this evening,โ€ Gwyn said. โ€œListen to the music.โ€ She squeezed her hand again. โ€œYouโ€™ll always be welcome to join me, Nesta.โ€

Nesta hadnโ€™t realized how badly sheโ€™d needed to hear it. She squeezed Gwynโ€™s hand back.

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