The Devil You Know

Part I: Chapter 1

Off-kilter music filled the vast throne room, the party in full swing. Fae were drinking and dancing in the center of the room, others mingling amongst each other off to the side. Rhysand sat on a chaise lounge, sipping on his glass of wine as he observed the fae around him—taking note of those who participated happily in the torture of others and those who still squirmed at the sight.

Tonight's "entertainment" was a whipping of a lesser fae from the dawn court who had been caught stealing food from the kitchen. Amarantha was forcing Thesan to dole out the punishment since the fae belonged to his court.

It had been nearly twenty-five years of this—being stuck down here, under the mountain. If Tamlin was actually trying to break his curse, he didn't know. The only time Amarantha let him out of this gods awful place was on Calanmai and only because she wanted to spy on Tamlin. To see if he was still participating in the tradition.

Her obsession with The High Lord of Spring had no limits. She made him go each year to take note of who he picked as his Maiden for the night. He had done as she asked, fulfilling his role in things to keep his people safe. What she did with that information afterwards, he could only guess. But he'd wager she sent her cronies up top to kill the females for daring to ever touch something that belonged to her.

His violet eyes circled back around the room to the redhead that sat lazily upon her throne. There was nothing more in the world he wanted to do at the moment other than to rip her apart from the inside out. Her scent still lingered on him; he could still feel her skin against his. He knew without a doubt it would be another round of it tonight.

His only salvation was filling his mind with memories of Velaris, of his family. His chosen family back home was safe because of his actions. Saved from the atrocities being committed down here. She probably would've had him kill at least one of them by now.

He sat straight up when he noticed one of her cronies make his way towards the dias, bending down to whisper something in Amarantha's ears.

That was never a good sign.

A moment later, she rose from her seat on the throne and held up a hand, silencing the band. The ensemble crowd paused their festivities and turned towards their "queen." His heart dropped into his stomach when it was his name she called out.

"Rhysand."

She didn't even have to raise her voice. Some in the crowd turned to look at him, sneering in disgust as they parted down the center, leaving him a straight path to her. He stood, smoothing down his pants and sauntered towards the dias. Despite his inner thoughts, his facade had never slipped down here—not for a moment. Not when so much was on the line.

He bowed at the waist as he stood in front of the dias. "Yes, my Queen?"

"Come," she said, holding her hand out towards him. He could feel the glares on his back, the hatred from the other High Lords, the jealousy of those deranged.

He made his way up the steps to the throne, taking her hand in his. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and was about to ask her what she needed when the two stone doors slammed open. He turned to face them, taking his normal spot beside her throne.

The Attor's towering figure stalked in, his large, leathery wings held high behind him. Grasped in the claws of both his hands were two females. The younger one was in a light blue nightgown with a gag over her mouth and hands tied behind her back. There were tear streaks down her face and her hair was disheveled as if she had fought against her capture.

The slightly older fae, a nymph if he had to guess which was hard considering the masquerade mask stuck on her face, was wearing a ragged, brown cotton day dress. She, too, was gagged and bound, but unlike the other one, held no fear in her body as the Attor dragged them towards the front of the room. As if she had expected this day would come.