A Court of Dusk and Shadows

CHAPTER FOUR: SECRETS AND MEMORIES

The war room buzzed with tension as Rhysand ushered everyone to their seats.

Azriel lingered near the back, choosing a shadowy corner, and allowing the others to take center stage. Yet, his shadows stretched out subtly, brushing against Ileana's chair leg like curious tendrils.

He couldn't see her from this angle, but he could feel her presence like a simmering ember. Each rustle of her dress, each murmured word, echoed in his heightened senses. He fought the urge to let the shadows dance closer, to unveil the secrets she hid beneath her composed facade. Revealing his curiosity now felt like a tactical misstep, a vulnerability he couldn't afford.

"Well, we all know why we're here," Rhys began, rather a bit informally, Ileana noted. He seemed far too relaxed, given the severity of the situation, but she recognized that he didn't want his family to be worried. To show any hint of unease . . . would make everyone else anxious. "We're here to discuss the arrival of Bryce and Princess Ileana, their connection to Hecate or Alecto or whatever she prefers to be called. And we also have to talk about the threat of the Asteri, and if they are a danger to Prythian."

All eyes turned to Ileana, who sat poised and composed, her fiery hair cascading down her shoulders. She held the gaze of each observer, her blue eyes radiating a mixture of defiance and amusement. "No Veritas Orb this time, Rhys?"

Rhys' lips curved into a knowing smile. "No orb this time, Ileana. But there might be a more direct approach. If you allow, I can connect all of us with my daemati abilities, so that the others can see your memories like I did. Your truth can be shared directly with everyone assembled here."

Ileana's heart clenched. Sharing her memories and exposing her past to these powerful strangers was a daunting prospect. Yet, the potential for clarity, for validation, was undeniable. She knew Rhysand's daemati magic wouldn't simply show her memories, it would reveal them with all the raw emotions attached, laying bare her vulnerabilities for all to see.

"Very well," Ileana agreed as she released a deep breath. "If that's the quickest way to the truth, we should proceed."

Rhys gave her an encouraging smile before extending a hand towards her, his daemati power crackling around him like miniature lightning bolts. Hesitantly, Ileana placed her hand in his. A warmth, both comforting and unsettling, flowed between them, a connection thrumming with raw power. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the mental intrusion, for the exposure of her deepest secrets.

Rhys closed his own eyes, and a soft hum filled the room. His daemati magic, potent and precise, wove a bridge between their minds. One by one, the others in the room felt a tugging sensation, their consciousness drawn into the shared experience.

Fear.

Fear, cold and sharp, sliced through everyone in the room as they tumbled through Ileana's memories. The shared memory painted Ileana's younger self in stark contrast to the composed woman they faced now. Her youthful innocence was palpable, even tinged with the naiveté of a girl who had just met a potential betrothed. Yet, beneath the surface, a tremor of unease flickered in her eyes, a foreshadowing of the horror to come.

She had just visited the Hawthorne estate for the first time since learning of her betrothal to Tristan Flynn. He was a fine male. Handsome and kind, although a bit immature for his age. He would make a fine king, she had thought. But if duty had not bound them, she would have told him he deserved someone far better than her. Someone unshackled by the burdens of leadership and the trauma of growing up, unloved, under the Autumn King's hand.

But the idyllic carriage ride turned into a twisted nightmare. As the memory shifted, the carriage jolted. She heard shouting outside and recognized the sound of metal being unsheathed. And it wasn't just fear rooting Ileana to her seat. It wasn't just the threat of violence, but the violation, the shattering of her trust in a world that had once felt secure.