A Court of Stars and Memories

37. An Evening Flight

Lysander leaped into the air and unfurled his wings to their full width, letting the wind carry them over Velaris. Mitsi's grip remained tight, but not in a frightened manner. She peered down at the sprawling city, its bright lights reflecting in her frosty gaze.

She smiled when they flew through one of the many low-hanging clouds, and slid one hand down to his shoulder while she reached out to touch the clouds with the other. Her smile eased his concern, but only slightly.

He didn't miss the glimmer of anxiety that lingered in her gaze, and every now and then, a small shiver spread through her limbs. "Are you cold?" He asked, though he knew that wasn't the reason for her trembling.

Mitsi shook her head. "I don't usually feel the cold, remember?"

"Maybe you've grown used to the Night Court's warmer temperatures so the cold affects you differently now," Lysander replied, feeding a teasing note into his voice.

Mitsi just shook her head with a smile. His siphons glowed as he allowed a small amount of warmth to emanate from his body. She might not be cold, but perhaps the warmth would soothe her.

Mitsi draped her arms around his neck once more when he began to climb through the air, carrying them up above the clouds. "It's so beautiful," Mitsi breathed. "I'm still not used to the stars here. The nights are so...alive."

"This is when our Court thrives. The nighttime is our beauty and solace."

"My..." Mitsi choked on the word. Lysander tightened his arms around her and waited for her to continue. "My father always said the Night Court was a place of terror and bloodshed. He said it was the home of whores and bastards and devils."

"Did you believe him?" Lysander asked.

"I used to have terrible dreams about the things he told us. The monsters he described." Mitsi's voice fell to a whisper. "Now I just have nightmares about him."

Lysander glanced at her. Mitsi's throat bobbed as she rested her chin over his shoulder, lightly smoothing a finger over the emerald siphon secured there. "Is that what happened tonight? Did you dream about him?"

She nodded. "He told me that he hated my mother and because I looked like her, he hated me. He tried to...to strangle me. The thing is, Father never hated me, and I know that."

"I remember him almost being...affectionate, towards me when I was still very young. I couldn't have been older than two. I remember him carrying me around on his shoulders." Mitsi gulped again. "But the memory doesn't make sense. Father was always cruel to Mother and Ellie, and Mina and Micah too."

"Are you certain it was your father?" Lysander asked. "Maybe you were with someone else at the time and because you were so young, you don't actually remember. The person might've resembled your father so that's who you thought it was."

Mitsi appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe, but I don't know who it could've been. The only dark haired males I know from back home are Father, Julian, and Cyrus."

"Could it have been Cyrus?"

"I don't know. Our former maid, Anya, was always friends with him and Colette, but I don't know why they would've been around us, unless Mother and Father weren't home and they stopped by to visit while she was taking care of me."

"You should ask Colette," Lysander suggested. "I'm sure she'd remember if that were the case."

"I will," Mitsi agreed. "I..." she hesitated, glancing at him, then back over his shoulder. He could see the blush in her cheeks highlighted by the same moonlight that danced off her snowy hair.