A Court of Truths and Revival

Truth and Lies

SEREN

"You are vile, Eris Vanserra."

The presumptive Autumn heir had the audacity to let his smirk grow wider. "And you, Seren, are anything but dead."

Seren considered crossing the invisible border to the Court he remained in, but his hounds were lined up with their teeth bared. They'd never been gentle or lethargic pups a child might beg their parents for and on Eris's command, they'd reduce her to splintered bones for Eris to pick his perfectly straight teeth with.

"What gave me away?" she asked, debating how far she'd have to winnow in one jump to remain safe from their jaws.

"Lucien is the one missing an eye and yet you think me blind?" Eris drawled. "Hunched shoulders, dull eyes, pale complexion, and a meek voice aren't enough to fool me, or have you forgotten just how keen my senses are?"

Seren crossed her arms, trying to hold her ground as she once had been able to. "You're as cocky as ever, and yet, I see no crown resting over your brow." The corners of Eris's mouth tightened, letting her know she'd hit a nerve so she pinched it further. "Did Beron grow a heart or did he finally sniff out your treachery?"

In the blink of an eye, Eris was over the border and had a tight hand cupping her face. Despite his leanness, he could snap her neck in an instant. "Your head remains unmistakably attached to your body. Another of Rhysand's lies to make the rest of us bleed sympathy for him?" His grip forced her neck to tilt as he examined her closer. "What happened, Ser?"

She pulled back, feeling the loss of warmth that constantly encircled him. Ser. She'd forgotten how he'd liked to call her that. Seren if they were waging war with politics and insults, but Ser if they were in a position to let all that fall away.

Beron and her father were not friends. Rivals after their opinion on human slaves landed them briefly on opposing sides until Beron fell in line to help win the first war with Hybern. Even after all that, they were the two oldest rulers by far and both avid gossipers so they got together several times a year to discuss politics, laws, children, and other nonsense over Beron's finest wine. On several of those visits, Seren joined as an object to be dangled in Beron's eyes—a daughter that could be given in marriage to any of Beron's sons and bind Autumn and Night. It was a ploy her father concocted, for he'd never give her over to Beron since her growing power would tip the scales of balance in favor of Autumn.

During those visits, Seren slunk through the winding halls of the Forest House under the Lady of Autumn's escort, but that female was more than happy to let her run free when eyes were off them. She met Eris after trying to chase down one of his hounds for a round of fetch and immediately saw through his act. Children with wicked fathers and grand eyes of overthrowing them could spot one another easily, though she'd been a child and Eris grown. He'd liked her sharp tongue though as she began to guess at some of his guarded secrets, he threatened to rip it out. She'd 'died' before either of them decided to betray one another.

"Were my wings ever in that manor?"

Always so up in arms over your damn wings, her father's voice seemed to say out of nowhere. Had you kept them hidden as I suggested, they'd still be on your back.

Eris rolled his eyes, giving no indication he'd heard the thought that haunted her. "Nobody likes their questions answered with another question, but since you've clearly been separated from society for some time, I'll play nice." Seren waited as he took another puff from the pipe she suspected to be made of bone. Animal she hoped. "I have it on good authority that two sets of Illyrian wings were pinned to the wall of a study," Eris continued as he watched her for any hint of reaction. She couldn't hide her flinch. "But Tamlin supposedly burned them ages ago."