A Song of Faithless Shadows

25. Intimidation Factor

Gwyneth

I'm woken by yelling early in the morning. It's groggy at first. I make out Nesta most crisply. I hear faint sounds of the High Lord intermixed, occasional tuts of the High Lady and Cassian attempting in vain to mediate. Before I can claim complete consciousness though, I find my room coaxed in shadow.

I settle my feet onto the ground, and they disappear into the dark cloud of cool caress. As the tendrils drift upwards for me, I don't feel panic. I don't feel closed in. I feel a smooth, settling comfort- like open air. In this darkness, there were infinite pathways, infinite threads in infinite directions.

The argument sounds crisper as I slip into my robes, checking my morning breath. "So you're afraid?" Rhysand says.

"I gave up fear," Nesta says back venomously. "I favor fury. You should know."

"I should," Rhysand echoes. "But you are incapable of holding fury for those you love-"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Feyre puts in, sounding sick.

"We aren't a personal escort. That's not what I signed up for," she says. "And I'm damn certain it's not what Emerie and Gwyneth signed up for."

"Then, we'll ask Emerie," Rhysand says. "She's on her way."

"And Gwyneth is already listening," the Shadowsinger says offhandedly, mentioning it as if it were nearly a reminder. I still, breath lapsing in my throat. It appears I'm not the only one. The conference room across the house has gone completely silent. I can practically see Azriel shrug in my mind. "I thought she should hear."

Frantically, I push off the door, slipping my hands onto my head. I feel uneasy, caught in the act. The Shadowsinger set me up. I'm sure of it.

So why did I feel so endeared by him lending me his ear?

And what was Nesta arguing with Rhysand about? What could they have possibly been discussing so passionately? With Nesta just now back from her honeymoon?

The door pushes open, and Nesta bounds in. I stumble back. "I only didn't wake you because you looked so peaceful," she swears to me.

"What were you talking about?" I ask, voice small.

She shuts the door behind her, taking note of the shadows as they retreat. She deigns not to address them, deciding to come closer instead. "Rhys and Feyre want us to make a display of power in the court of nightmares- you, me, and Em. We will need Keir's darkbringers with us if we want to go after the rogues," she says. "But Cassian says that the Darkbringers will demand a challenger for their cooperation."

"A challenger?" I squint.

She nods. "It's a custom in the court. As a symbol of allegiance, Keir, their general, reserves the right to select a challenger to fight his best soldier. This challenger will hold no political title, purely military. In the war, he picked Cassian," she explains. "Obviously, Cassian won. In doing so, he won the darkbringers to fight in the war. Had he lost, they wouldn't have fought."

"And when you say fight..." I hedge. "You mean-"

"To the death."

I take a shallow breath. "I see," I murmur. "You're worried me or Em will be killed?"

"No," she says. "I'm worried you will have to kill. I'm worried it will break you. Keir is a wicked man. His soldiers... Cassian says some of them are actually good guys. I don't want to put that on you or Emerie, potentially killing an innocent."

"How did Cassian do it?" I ask.

"He said it was war," Nesta mutters. "He won't really talk about it much."