A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

4: Start

Leur

4 months before the first war

"If you two trained half as much as you whined, we'd be in great shape." Rhysand frowned, picking something off of his leathers.

"I'm not whining." I looked to him, "I just don't see why it has to be you who trains us. Is Cassian busy?"

"No. He's just sick of you." Rhys answered.

"Wrong, Cassian would never get sick of me." I slid against a tree, feeling the warm spring earth beneath me as I sat in the grass. We'd been out here since dawn, and everything hurt.

"I don't remember telling you to sit." He scowled my way.

"You didn't. It's Tamlin's turn." I said.

"Don't bring me into your sibling quarrels." The blonde looked up from adjusting a bandolier on his chest, "Last time I got involved, I got a broken nose for it."

"You deserved it." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"All I said was that Rhys was right, you can't just fly into the Summer Court and start throwing yourself off cliffs into the water. It's dangerous and-" Tamlin started.

"See, you deserved it just for the way you started that sentence. You're not allowed to side with Rhys." I looked up at him.

"I'm not allowed to side with Rhys?" He narrowed his eyes at me.

"No, you're not." I replied.

Tamlin laughed, "And why is that?"

"Because you're my best friend." I answered, as if it was obvious, "You're always supposed to be on my side."

"Even when your side could get you killed, and banned from the Summer Court?" He cocked his head.

"It wouldn't have gotten me killed. I have wings, dumbass." I let them loose for emphasis, the sunlight that peeked through the trees warmed the delicate skin as I toyed with a soft purple carnation growing next to me.

"I'm sick of listening to you two flirt." Rhys groaned, and then he threw a punch at Tamlin, catching the blonde off guard. I could barely contain the laugh that left my throat.

I watched them fight, like light and dark twisting around eachother. Every once in a while, Rhysand would give him corrections, but Tamlin had a habit of allowing my brother to egg him on until his anger made him sloppy. I had a habit of allowing myself to fall into traps that Rhys set for me, far too overconfident in my abilities against a much larger opponent. That was the biggest thing we were working on today, keeping in control.

And for Tamlin, that was easier said than done.

On the brink of war, his family had recently sworn an alliance with Hybern. As the youngest heir, Tamlin probably wouldn't be allowed to do much fighting. He'd be stuck here, at home, having to entertain Hybern royals and play the part of human slave master. I knew how much it bothered him, knew how he felt about being sidelined on the wrong side of the battle, and soon our courts would be at war with one another.

I wasn't sure what my father had planned for me to do. He wasn't to keen on letting me fight, or even train. He only allowed it because Rhysand had begged him to- and for his favorite child, his heir, he would yield.

But not for me, never for me.

I was always too wild, too talkative, too much.

Too Illyrian.

And it was no secret that a High Lord's daughter was rare. They almost always bore sons, heirs to the throne. I supposed that nobody had any true control over it, but for some reason the high families of Prythian were always, almost exclusively- men. As it stood right now, I was the only princess in Prythian aside from Mor. Though, I wasn't sure if she truly counted.