As I settle back onto my feet and tuck in my wings, the Dawn Court chamber remains silent. My declaration hangs heavy in the air, High Lady of the Spring Court. The breeze is thick with confusion and surprise.
I look behind me, at my High Lord, as he runs a hand through his hair and meets my eyes with a stone-cold gaze. He tilts his head slightly but says nothing.
I have just declared myself as his High Lady - his equal. And I have done so without asking permission, without being blessed by a High Priestess. Tamlin could kill me for such a claim. However, I know I would not be able to enter Rhysands mind without being powerful, without being something close to a High Lord.
I am seraphim. I am a High Lady. I am Persephone. I am the mate of Tamlin and so I shall be his High Lady.
"Excellent," comes the sarcastic voice of the Autumn High Lord, snapping the silence in half, "Now we have two High Ladies. Soon all of Prythian will be run by brooding, sensitive women,"
From across the chamber, Feyre looks at me. Our eyes meet but we say nothing. The other High Lords sit up straighter in their chairs as if waiting for one of us to pounce. Rhysand sits back beside her and she doesn't look away from me as her fingers intertwine with his. Another show of dominance, of power. I tear my gaze away from hers and sit back next to Tamlin.
Chatter fills the chamber once more as the High Lords begin another discussion. I ignore the talk and look beside me, up at Tamlin, willing him to look back at me. But he doesn't. He rolls back his shoulders and tilts his body away from me.
I look away.
The Day Court High Lord waves his hand and the stacks of papers Tamlin has compiled drifts over to him on a phantom wind. With a snap of his fingers, other stacks appear before every chair in the room. Including my own.
"Replicas," he says without looking up as he leafs through the documents. No one makes any move to touch the papers before us.
The High Lord clicks his tongue. "If all of this is true," he announces. Tamlin snarls at the haughty tone, "then I'd suggest two things: first, destroying Hybern's caches of faebane. We won't last long if they've made them into so many versatile weapons. It's worth the risk to destroy them."
The Winter Lord arches a brow. "How would you suggest we do that?"
"We'll handle it," The Summer Lord declares, "We owe them for Adriata."
The Dawn Lord says, "There is no need."
Everyone blinks in confusion. The High Lord of Dawn just folds his hands in his lap. "A master tinkerer of mine has been waiting for the past several hours. I would like for her to now join us."
Before anyone can reply, a High Fae female appears at the edge of the circle. She bows quickly and faces her High Lord.
The Dawn Lord gestures to the female standing tall before the assembled group. "Nuan is one of my most skilled craftspeople. You might know her as the person responsible for granting Lucien the ability to use his left eye after Amarantha removed it."
Nuan nods once in confirmation, her lips pressing into a thin line as she takes in Lucien's family - the Autumn Court. I wonder who this Lucien is.
"And what has this to do with the faebane?" The Day Court Lord demands to know.
Nuan turns, her dark hair slipping over a shoulder as she studies the High Lord. He bristles, unimpressed. "Because I found a solution for it."
Her High Lord waves a hand. "We heard rumours of faebane being used in this war—used in the attack on your city, Rhysand. We thought to look into the issue before it became a deadly weakness for all of us." He nods to Nuan. "Beyond her unparalleled tinkering, she is a skilled alchemist."
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A Court of Curse and Roses; acotar
FanfictionPersephone, heartbroken and overwhelmed with newfound power, mistakingly winnows herself into the heart of the broken Spring Court. Thrust into a flurry of High Lords, unrequited mates, and the oncoming war against Hybern, Persephone must decide who...