𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Sixty-Eight

In the end, it was just Amren, Rhys, and I that went to the infamous Summer Court.

Cassian had tried and failed at convincing Rhys to let him come. I was forced to hear their argument through the walls of the townhouse throughout the night. It was quite the scandal. Harsh words were traded. I was sure they came to blows at one point. They may have even broken a vase.

I knew my role at the Summer Court perfectly: Rhysand's piece of ass.

It wasn't my favorite role by all means, but I'd play my part. And I'd play it well. My role as Rhys's pet would grant me tours of the cities, granted I'd never been there before, and I wasn't technically a necessity when it came to court politics.

Rhys planned to winnow the three of us to Adriatta—the capital city of the Summer court—at dawn, much to my dismay. Contrary to popular belief, I was not a morning person. And I was not going gently.

I made that perfectly clear as I sat on one of the soft lounge chairs in the living room, practically pouting as I watched the sun rise over the city through a window. It was a lovely sight. Too bad I couldn't enjoy it because it was so. fucking. early.

Rhys and Amren stood in front of me, looking equally as happy to be here—though I was near positive that was Amren's resting face.

The tiny ancient one wore her usual shades of gray in a very Night Court fashioned outfit. Loose pants cut just below her navel, with a top that cut very high on her torso. Rhys was head to toe in black, as per usual—no wings. The cool, unbothered mask of the High Lord. The male I'd first met.

I sat in a tight black dress that hugged my body as though it were a second skin. The neckline swept in a long V, going just past my breasts and leaving a generous of my skin showing. The arms were long-sleeved, and the tight skirt of the dress was decorated with nearly invisible silver thread.

Apparently, black with silver thread was my new staple these days.

My hair hung loose in soft waves. There were times when I forgot the snowy color of my hair and how different it seemed. How much it made me stand out. There were times when I loved it, times when I loathed it. I wasn't sure how I felt today.

I stood from the lounge, sighing as I did. I wished I was still in bed more than anything in this world.

Rhys surveyed me once more, just as he did when I'd entered the room. His eyes swept over my body as he looked over my dress, likely analyzing whether it would benefit our cause at the Summer Court.

Once his eyes had finished roving over me, Rhys cleared his throat slightly and spoke, "Good. Let's go." his voice sounded on edge and grumbly. Like a dying dog with a weird voice.

I raised my brows at him, but he said nothing. It was Amren who answered, "He's pissy this morning."

I looked at her, snorting. "And why would that be?" I said as Rhys held out his hands to the two of us, the silky fabric of his suit shuffling as he did.

I watched as the ancient one's delicate hand folding into Rhys's. I followed en suite. The warmth of his hand engulfed the chill of my own. I felt the rough callouses of his hand as it curved around my own slowly. Slower than he had with Amren.

I'd forgotten I'd answered a question until Rhys responded, "Because," he said as the rumblings of his power began to wave through the room. "After Cassian had finally given up on his convincing, him and Azriel took me for all I was worth in cards."

I hummed in amusement, "Ah, so you're all pissy because you're a sore loser." I observed with a slight smirk as I squeezed his hand slightly.

"I am when my brothers tag-team me." he grumbled. There was no warning as we vanished into a night wind.