A Court of Storm and Legacy

Partners

Tate

Walking into the drawing room in the House of Wind is like walking into a silent battleground.

Standing on the side of the room closest to a large fireplace are the Valkyries. More specifically Gwyn, Emerie, and Blythe. And, as far away as possible, are the Illyrian generals, standing stoically near the large floor to ceiling windows.

My breath rattles as eyes turn towards me. The Illyrians regard me with as much warmth as an ice cube, forcing me into an involuntary staring contest with a silver haired general. His piercing eyes meet my own from across the room with a stare that surely has his trainees in camp scurrying away.

Though Illyrians age nearly as slowly as the high fae do, this male's age shows in his lightly crinkled skin and faded hair. The fact that there's any indication of his age at all, tells me he's near ancient, easily a thousand or more years old. Once again, irregular for Illyrians. Especially for those who have lived through as many wars as I'm sure he has.

The male's judgmental gaze lingers on me, searching for something. Eventually, his stare shifts to something behind me. I don't need to turn around to know that Nyx has positioned himself right behind my back, leaving all but an inch of space between the two of us. I fight the crawling blush on my face as I recall the last time we were in a similar position.

"Should've left it broken, serve as I reminder." the general grunts.

"Lord Severin." Nyx's familiar drawl arises from behind me. I fight the urge to snort at the title. Severin, seeming to catch the flicker of amusement that crosses my face, directs a sneer at me.

"A reminder of what?" Nyx questions. If I wasn't already set on disliking the male, I would shoot him a thankful look.

"What happens when you get distracted by a pretty face." At his words, both Nyx and I tense up. The utter arrogance in the lords voice sets my teeth grinding. These Illyrians will never change.

Which only brings me back to the original reason I didn't want to come into this room. This exhibition fight had been so important for so many reasons and I'd lost. I couldn't believe it. It was my first fight against someone outside of the Temple and I'd lost, completely proving Nesta's point of my sheltered-ness. It was embarrassing to say the least.

Not only was it a personal defeat, but it was a hit to all Valkyries. There was a reason the Illyrian generals had been invited to attend. The High Lord, in collaboration with the Valkyrie commanders, wanted to make a statement to all those who still doubted the Valkyrie's capabilities. Though the Valkyries numbers had grown exponentially, we had yet to see any real battle, since Koschei was just slightly before the official formation of our ranks.

Though the lack of war experience did not bother most, the misogynistic bastards in the north of the Night Court still had reservations. They were none too pleased with our creation in the first place, let alone that a large majority of our ranks held female Illyrians in high positions of power.

The fight with Nyx was Rhysand's idea of demonstrating that we could hold our own, even against Illyrian warriors. Clearly, the match hadn't done as good of a job as we had hoped. The gathered Illyrians either glared, or simply ignored the Valkyries, unwilling to treat them as equal peers.

"My father is calling us into the library."

It takes me a moment to realize that Nyx is addressing me. I look up at him in confusion, having not heard a single word from the High Lord. His pinched face is directed towards a hallway across the room. I take that as my directional queue and begin crossing the room, the clicking of our boots against the stone floor the only noise in the eerily silent chamber.