A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

11: The Ingysi

Lucien

168 years ago

The soft sunlight of the Spring Court had always amazed me.

So unlike the harsh streams of light that filtered through the trees of my home, no. The Spring Court felt like the sun and all of the good things that come from it. New life, blooming flowers, vibrant and healthy green leaves, plush grass. Autumn was a time when these things died, and I supposed that might be why everyone there seemed to have such dark souls. Beautiful, vibrant colors to cover up the decay inside.

Even at night, as it was now, the Spring Court still seemed bright.

I much preferred it here, even if the constant sunshine sometimes felt like it did more to make the darkness within me visible than to drown it out. It was still better, and Tamlin was a good friend.

He had named me emissary a few years back, after the mess of my... immigration had died down. We'd grown close, but I always felt that there was more to him than met the eye. Perhaps he simply made me feel young, a feeling I wholeheartedly detested after growing up with my brothers. Tamlin was hundreds of years older than me, old enough to remember the war clearly and have played a part in it, even if he never spoke of it. In comparison, 96 years felt like a blink of an eye. Still, there always seemed to be something he wasn't saying, some pain that lurked deep within him. I never pushed, never deemed it a safe option to do so, and maybe I'd never know.

But today, as we walked through the woods, something felt like I might find out. It was just a feeling, some kind of premonition. He had an odd look on his face, far too stiff as he walked, fingers tapping mindlessly against the hilt of a golden sword. He had also placed a ward around us, even as we walked in silence, to drive out listening ears. I felt it coming, whatever it may be, so it didn't surprise me when we stopped near the base of a willow tree. He shook his head as we stood there, and I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Mother above, just spit it out, Tam." I sighed, plopping myself down on the ground.

He looked at me with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe I would dare speak to him that way. Normally, I never would have, but four hours of walking in silence while he twisted and turned in his head had me more bold than usual.

"I can't take it anymore man. Say what you're going to say, or let's go home." I repeated, letting my head fall against a tree.

His eyes met mine, and then he was speaking, "Have you ever heard of Leuruna, Princess of the Night Court?"

Of course, I had. She was the daughter of Altair, Rhysand's predecessor and father. She died in an attack by the Spring Court 300 years ago, after Tamlin's father, Florian, had been threatened by the Night Court's power. It cost him his life, and Tamlin had killed Altair for it. Rhysand and Tamlin ascended to High Lord at the same time.

It was a story we were told as children, to keep us vigilant. The destruction of two entire ruling families in Prythian, all because Florian was threatened by power. Eris used to taunt me that I'd be next when I was young.

I didn't tell Tamlin any of this. I hadn't expected this to be what he wanted to speak about, or his big secret. However, it was a logical conclusion as he had lost his entire family in the incident. Instead, I just nodded my head.

"We were the same age." He began, "She was my closest friend. As children, the relationship between our fathers wasn't so strained, so we spent quite a lot of time together. She was funny, and got herself into trouble quite a bit."

There was a strange look on his face, something like longing, "I did not know that you knew her." I answered him.

"Actually, we were betrothed." He slid down across from me at the base of another tree, plucking a purple flower from the ground, "I was the youngest of my brothers, and nobody expected me to become High Lord. We were born in the same year, and my father thought it would be intelligent to create a bridge between the Night and Spring courts. He was threatened by their power, but he was not dense enough to think challenging it would work."