A Bloody Crown

Chapter 17: Velaris

"Aelfrun?" A voice whispered, one that wasn't Nesta.

But a familiar voice, nonetheless.

I turned to it slightly, and met eyes with Elain, the middle sister. Her dainty lips were parted slightly, darling eyes wide, frail body shaking with fear.

My eyes scanned her up and down, then back to Nesta.

A much more commanding voice took hold, the leader of the room. "Aelfrun, how are you?"

I looked to the right of Nesta, and saw Feyre. The youngest, bravest of them. On her hand, a dark tattoo, one with stars and sworls on it, reflecting the Court I loathed.

"Feyre," I replied blandly, no bite or joy to my voice. "What are you doing here?"

Her voice was kind, but strong. "I would assume the same as you," she replied.

I said nothing.

She took a step towards me, indicating her desire for peace with her hands outstretched. Gesturing to a male with large wings and shadows swirling, she said, "This is Azriel, my Spymaster Shadowsinger." To a beautiful blonde female, "Morrigan, my third in command." And lastly, to a handsome male, dressed in finery, she said, "Rhysand, my husband."

We made eye contact. Loathing consumed my light eyes, and I know he felt it, judging by the slightest change in expression. Then, I felt him, felt a hand reaching for mine. Attempting to look into who I was. Why I hated him.

"Don't," I snarled, looking into his eyes unwaveringly.

With one eyebrow raised, his hand retracted, and he looked me up and down. "Now that we have been introduced," he said mildly, "How about telling us who you are?"

"I am Queen Aelfrun. These are my lands, my Lords, and my people."

"Queen?" Feyre breathed, looking at my crown. "Who.. who made you Queen?"

Swallowing deeply, I thought back to my arms being slit down the center, my wailing and sobbing at the pain. "The Mortal Queens. And the King of Hybern."

At that moment, Marlia entered behind me, stopping dead, staring at Feyre. I immediately flung out my hand, halting her from stepping any farther. She whimpered at the sight of the three Archerons, her caretaker's heart bleeding.

"Marlia!" Elain yelped, stepping forward. Nesta halted her in the same manner.

Feyre smiled kindly at Marlia, then looked back to me. "I am High Lady of the Night Court, which means I have the authority to negotiate with you. If you tell me what you are looking for, I believe we could come to mutual terms."

My voice was still flat and unwavering, "So you sent the male after me."

Confusion flashed across her face as she shook her head. "What male?"

"Someone from the Night Court slaughtered my father and tried to murder me," I replied. "Why the fuck did you do that?"

This time, Rhysand spoke, his voice that of dark command. "We did no such thing."

I turned to him, aggravation rising. "He looked like you. His armor had your stars on it, he was a fae, and he told me where he originated."

"We did no such thing."

Marlia spoke up, her voice hesitant, "If you didn't, then who did? Who would stand to gain from impersonating you?"

"Someone who wants us against one another," Morrigan replied, her voice low.

Feyre nodded, looking back to me. "Aelfrun, I swear to you, we sent no one to harm you or your father. Now is the time for us to come together."

I shook my head, looking at the tattoo on her hand. "We can't. You seek to enslave the human race, Feyre. How can I-"