A Court of Illyrian Hearts

Chapter Nine

I was ready. The bag across my back had only my leathers and a few Night Court outfits Feyre had insisted I take inside. No sign of Heart Slayer. I guess Cassian was serious.

We were standing on the balcony, Rhys, Feyre and I. Cassian was talking to Azriel about something inside.

'I know you and Cass will succeed Baelyn,' Feyre says and hugs me, surprisingly. 'You are stronger than you think you are.'

I nod and pull away as Cassian approaches.

We both take one of Rhysand's hands and I close my eyes as darkness spreads around my vision, as he winnows us to the camp. When I open my eyes I see trees, aglow with moonlight, but clouds threatening from not far away. The familiar bite of the Illyrian air is a shocking reminder of what lay here; an entire camp rebelling against its master.

'Good luck.' Rhysand says and disappears with a wave.

The forest is quiet. Only the sound of Cassian and my breathing can be heard. After a moment of collecting ourselves and preparing to play our parts we trudge on. Neither of us says a word.

After an hour of walking through the deserted wood, we reach my cabin, on the outskirts of the camp, and as my eyes skitter across the wooden surface they land on Stormcloud's pen. I walk up to it and peer inside, 'Stormcloud?' I whisper into the darkness. An answering neigh sets my heart at ease. 'Hey girl,' I say as I stroke her head and kiss her snout. 'I'm sorry I was gone for so long.' All she does is nuzzle against me.

'We need to get a move on.' Cassian's voice sounds from behind me, interrupting our reunion. I straighten, moving away from the Peryton, and walk to the cabin door. I open it and am met with darkness.

This, this was my home, is my home; and yet, after all those years of making myself comfortable in it, now it only feels like a prison, a place to keep me when I was not being fed lies.

I turn to Cassian who raises his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes and step in.

Cassian stands as still as a statue, red siphons glowing, as I fumble around for a candle and a match; when I have acquired both and lit the candle I gasp.

My cabin was trashed.

Clothes lay on the ground in front of the open cupboard, all my food containers and jars were emptied and broken, my bed sheet and pillows were torn, feathers littering almost every surface.

Cassian is still silent as I sigh and rub at my temples. Great. Just great. On top of everything else I have to clean a wrecked cabin.

Insufferable Illyrian males.

Cassian pov

I watched as she started to clean up the wreckage of the cabin. I could tell she was angry and that my help would only irritate her more, so I left the cabin and walked around to Stormcloud's pen. 'Hey, shhh,' I say as I run my hand up and down her neck. 'You are quite beautiful girl.' She neighs in approval and nudges my hand with her large snout.

Crash.

A chorus of angry curses follows. She must have dropped something. A small part of me felt sorry for her; she was raised by Devlon just as I was and all he did was use her, turn her against the High Lord's General and order her to kill him; which, if things had gone badly, would inflict upon her the High Lord's wrath, and she would probably have ended up dead.

I was angry too.

Angry at Devlon, angry at the camp, angry at myself, and angry at Baelyn for not trusting me. Then again, she probably didn't trust men very much.