A Love From A Different World

Chapter 11

By the end of the party, Cassian was starting to feel the effect of the alcohol. Maybe he had drunk just a little too much, but Mother knew he needed it. Certainly after witnessing how disheveled the Inner Circle was. And it was all the human's fault too. All Cassian wanted to do was drink and find a nice piece of ass to have fun with afterwards, but even the loads of eye candy attending the gala couldn't hold his attention long enough. No, because instead of enjoying the females swarming the place, Cassian was too busy observing both his brothers being utter idiots. They weren't exactly fighting, but it was clear that neither wanted to give up the girl. The Illyrian was sure that none of them had ever let a girl get in between them- and a human one at that- but, here they were. Everything had gone to shit.

Mor was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing and drinking and flirting with more than one male. Amren was gone...Cassian didn't even want to think about what she might be doing. That left his two brothers, who were still doing what they had been doing for the last four hours. Azriel was dancing with Celaena, and quite happily. Watching his brother so at ease gave him mixed feelings. He was sure that he had never seen his brother with such an expression on his face...as if he was free. Cassian was both jealous and angry; jealous that Celaena had been the one to draw out such a smile, and angry that their family never were able to. Celaena was able to do something that his family hadn't after all these years. It said a lot about them. The warrior didn't like her mostly for that reason, and also in part because she was most likely a spy, just as Rhysand had said. Ah, Rhys, something else he didn't want to think about. There he was sitting like a king on his throne, with that stupid smirk on his face. Though he wasn't directly staring at the dancing pair, he was obviously watching them. Bringing Celaena out was a huge mistake, and one that Cassian was sorely regretting right about now. The whole purpose of her even being at the party was to sniff out which court she is working for. But that all amounted to nothing, seeing as the only person Celaena spoke to was Eris, High Lord Beron's son. But by the looks of it, Beron's eldest son was drunkenly, unsuccessfully trying to flirt with her. But by the empty expression on Eris' wife's face, perhaps it was business after all. That, or the two had the driest of marriages.

By the dull sensation in his frontal lobe, Cassian knew that he'd have a killer hangover in the morning. Or now, he supposed. By the looks of it, it was already morning. Having too much to think about, Cassian put down his drink, plopped down in a chair, and went to sleep.

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"Hey, wake up," Mor shook the sleeping drunk carelessly.

"Slap him," Amren suggested freshly returned from Mother knew where. But from the redness of her mouth and the happiness in her eyes, Amren just had breakfast.

Ignoring the Second's opinion, Mor reached over to the half-full pint of alcohol and unceremoniously emptied it completely on Cassian's head.

The Illyrian jumped up instantly, soaked to the bone and swearing like a fiend. He looked accusingly at the empty glass in Mor's hand before yelling. "What the fuck Mor?!"

"You wouldn't wake up," Shrugging her shoulders. "Get up, we have a meeting in the dining room."

Hand on his head, he squinted his eyes. The pounding headache made him want to shove his brain into a wall.

"Hurry up," The blond insisted, completely unempathetic.

"Well excuse me, I'm still recovering from my near pneumonia death."

Mor rolled her eyes and walked away, mumbling, "It wasn't even that cold."

"You Illyrians are such babies," The tiny woman gave him a snake-like smile as she followed the Third.

Joining the others, he groaned when he heard their voices. Taking a seat, he laid his head on the table. "Why is it so loud?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"From the number of drinks he had last night, I'd say that our dear Cassian is hungover."

The mumbling from him was confirmation of Rhys' statement. "Well, maybe you should have been actually doing your job instead of drinking."

"I was multitasking."

"Not very well, clearly,"

Cassian jumped up- and immediately regretted it as the hammering in his head intensified. Slumping back in his chair, he said; "Can we just start the meeting already?"

"Grumpy much?"

"Shut up,"

"Alright, alright, let's begin." Taking the lead, Rhys looked at his family from the head of the table. "So, last night-"

"Was a complete failure." Finished off Amren, "All we accomplished was waste time and money."

"Not necessary," Countered Azriel, he looked at Rhysand with a peculiar look. "Didn't you speak to a couple High Lords?"

"Yes, however, not all are in favor of a truce."

"Who?"

"Well, for one, Tamlin, he didn't even show." Rhys crossed his legs and brought his hands together on the table. "But then again, that was to be expected."

"So then who's on our side?"

"Winter Court most likely, Kallias was one of the most reluctant to follow Amarantha's rule. And the Day Court as well. Both hate Hybern and his increasing control. If it comes to war, we can count on Helion being on our side."

"What about the Summer Court? I thought they'd be on our side too."

"Tarquin is conflicted whether to join the alliance with us or not."

"Does Celaena have anything to do with it by any chance?" Cassian asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes. He's afraid that my...company might be a dangerous affiliation."

"How about the Dawn Court?"

"I didn't get to speak to him much, but I sense that he might be hesitant to join anyone."

"So we have two allies and two potential ones."

"Precisely."

"I don't want to rule out the two other courts, but it's unlikely that they'll side with us." Rhysand sighed. "Tamlin would never join us and the Autumn Court would most likely side with Hybern if it came to it."

"Aside from that, how's the Human Realm doing?" Rhys turned towards his spy expectantly.

"I checked out the wall this morning," The Shawosinger looked worried as he said the next sentence. "It's gone."