A Court of Truths and Revival

Shaken

SEREN

Blissful silence greeted Seren when her heavy lids peeled back. Silence and the High Lady of the Night Court.

Feyre Cursebreaker's head leaned against the cool panes of a fogged window as raindrops streaked down. Her eyes were closed but since she stood on two feet, Seren didn't think her to be asleep.

Seren shifted up in the bed she'd been placed in, rustling the covers and bringing Feyre out of whatever contemplative state she'd been in.

Her grey-blue eyes were kind when she beheld Seren and her steps were sure as she came closer and kneeled down on the plush carpet beside the bed. "I'm Feyre," she softly said.

"I know," Seren blurted, wincing at how ineloquent that sounded.

Feyre's smile was soft and full of understanding. Her reputation proceeded her.

A million questions began to bubble in Seren's brain but she didn't know how she should address or act around the High Lady at her bedside that looked at her as if they already knew each other. "My brother..." Seren began to ask, unsure of how to phrase the question.

Feyre winced but smoothed her face quickly. "Rhys is brooding downstairs as he reconsiders some of his words and actions."

A laugh burst from Seren's lips, though there was very little to be amused about considering all that had happened. "You put him in timeout?" As a child, Seren had endured sticking her nose in many corners after irritating her father for one reason or another. Every once in a while, a stray shadow would perch on her nose as she did so.

Feyre scrunched her nose, but nodded and offered another small smile once she realized Seren truly thought it hilarious. "He was hovering over you and snapping at everyone trying to help. And I'd heard enough of his thoughts regarding my sisters."

All amusement faded, turning Seren cold. She wouldn't soon forget Nesta and her great sword nor would she find it easy to dismiss Elain.

Seren appreciated that Feyre hadn't immediately started demanding to know where her missing sister was, but that conversation was coming. Seren began to fidget, instantly feeling as if she would soon find herself under interrogation. She wanted to leave just as much as she wanted to stay.

She sat up with the intent to run, but Feyre reached out and put a warm hand over her own. "You're safe here, Seren. Nobody will be barging through that door unless you invite them in." Seren suspected she spoke both for her sake and for the sake of prying ears down below. Slowly, she nodded, shocked at the offer, but not fully trusting that she'd be allowed to share her story on her own terms.

"Take all the time you need," Feyre said as she gave Seren's hand another squeeze and rose to her feet.

Seeing that she meant to leave, Seren hastily asked, "Your son...he is well? I saw Eris and—"

Feyre waved off Seren's worry. "Nyx is faring far better than Eris." Feyre saw Seren's horror and quickly went on. "Eris is recovering from a stab wound to his chest. Nearly nicked his heart."

It wasn't a stretch to assume Eris got what he rightfully deserved. He truly had a way with words and Seren didn't doubt it earned him a blow that could have been fatal, but Seren only chuckled. "Impossible. Eris doesn't have a heart." Beron had carved it out ages ago.

Feyre bit her lip, hiding her smile before she slipped out of the room and clicked the door shut behind her.

Seren toyed with the hem of a plum-colored sweater she'd been put in and smoothed over the lines of bandages beneath, hissing at the pain. The scent of ointment clung to her, meaning a healer had looked her over. Likely old Madja if she even still lived.