A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

31: Control

Leur

500 years ago, 2 months before

I was fucked.

Absolutely, undeniably fucked.

This morning I had tracked down Madja. I had begged for her to tell me something than what I already knew. In her small shop two blocks away from the Sidra's shores, I sat with bouncing anxious legs and hands that wold not stop fidgeting. I had to sit on them to keep still so she could examine me. Her withered hands were soft, eyes closed as she felt me with her power. I let her scent me completely, and all it took was for me to see the look in her eye and I knew.

I was in deep shit.

I gave Majda far too many gold marks and then ran out the shop. I hid myself in shadows so the citizens of Velaris wouldn't have to see their Princess vomiting into the Sidra, shaking and crying.

I spent a few hours there, staring at the rushing water, hidden in the shadows as I let myself brood over what I had done, what I had wrought upon myself. I couldn't stop shaking, not even as the late summer breeze carried warm wind around me, not even as held myself closer. After all I had done, all I had survived, it was only irony that ensured such a stupid mistake would be what took me out. And if I did survive, by some miracle or out of character mercy from my father, I wasn't ready for this. I didn't know the first thing about it, could never do this as I was still shattered into pieces.

I only knew of one person that could help me. One person who would keep my secret, who other Daemati, namely my father and Rhys, wouldn't even dare to look into her mind, who could be safe from my father's wrath if he found out she knew.

I didn't bother to knock on the door to my old apartment. Amren was sitting at the small oak table, having moved in a month ago. I had given up this place once my father started getting more demanding of me, and tracked down anyone I could find to rent it out to. I met Amren, whatever the hell she was, during the war. She was powerful enough and smart enough that I managed to convince her to do a few favors for me, namely wiping out Hybern camps when I could not find the time to get away from the palace. A goblet of dark red blood in her hand as she skimmed the pages of a book. Her silver eyes perked up as I shut the door behind me, throwing up a hard shield before I let her fully scent me. Her brows did not raise, her eyes did not widen, there was no change to her body language as she realized the secret I kept. She only set down her goblet and motioned for me to sit.

"How do you always manage to find yourself in these situations, girl?" She crooned, sitting back in her chair.

I couldn't stop the tears that were welling in my eyes from dripping down my cheeks. Not that it mattered, I was a wreck anyways. I bit out an exasperated laugh, letting my head fall into my hands that rested on the table, "I think I must be cursed."

Amren paid my emotions no mind, continuing on as if nothing was happening. It was part of why I liked her so much, she would never baby me. And not that I minded the way the others cared for me, not that I would ever be ungrateful for the way Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Azriel would burn down the world if they saw me upset- it was just nice to be able to fall apart a little bit and not have people hounding you to make it better.

"Not cursed, just stupid." She noted.

I couldn't be mad at it, couldn't be offended, not when it was the truth.

"Tell me you have a way to fix it." I pleaded, lifting my head to her, not caring how desperate I sounded.

"Do I look like the Mother?" She shook her head incredulously, before pointing a sharp red nail at me, "You're fucked."

Something like a mix between a groan and a sob left my mouth, and I put my head on the table once more.

"Can I ask who-" She began.

"No." I cut her off, not even bothering to look up.

She laughed, the sound cold and cruel, "Perhaps we should just kill your father. Rhysand will ascend the throne, and you'll be in the clear."

I ran a hand through my hair as I sat up, "You want to stage a coup on my father, of all people?"

My father was far too powerful, had far too much control over the city, had gifts far too strong to be blindsided. He'd see us coming a mile away, and we didn't have enough time to actually concoct a plan that would work.

"I've had some ideas on the thought before." The small female smirked, tapping her nails against the table.

I shook my head, "I am not fighting in another war, Amren."

She took a swig of her drink, the red rouge on her lips hiding the stain of blood, "Who said anything about a war?"

"You want to assassinate him?" I whispered, even with the shield we could not be too careful.

"It's better than sitting by and waiting for him to rain down hell when he finds out." She shrugged, "Your brother is ready to take over."

I thought of Rhys, of how drunk he had been the last time I saw him, how angry he was at everyone and everything for the fact that Amarantha had been left alive, how much he was struggling and refused to admit it. At my disbelieving stare, Amren continued, "Some responsibility will be good for him."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation." I mumbled, magicking a glass of water to my hand. All the crying had only served to make me dehydrated.

Amren only stared at me, those silver eyes boring into me, as if she could straight through to my soul, at what lay beneath my skin. I let her look, let her see whatever she needed to. Other than Tamlin, she was the only person who knew all of my secrets: the only other person who knew the hell I'd been living for the past years, the only person in the Night Court who knew the true depths of my father's treachery. And I was in her debt, for keeping my secret, for helping me, for being here when I had no one else to turn to.

"I can't believe you're not entirely for this idea." She countered.

I let out a breath, "It's not like I have some moral thing against it. I'd kill the bastard myself if I thought I could."

"You're afraid." She noted.

Fuck, nobody had ever said something so true.

Perhaps it was a true sign of the cowardice that lay deep within me, of the scared little girl who could never understand why her father hurt her, of the teenager who saw other fathers with their daughters and wondered what she did to not deserve that, of the adult who had just spent hours sitting by the Sidra thinking about how much easier it would be to run away.

I was afraid of him.

I had been my whole life.

But Amren only scoffed at me and shook her head, "Don't you get it?"

My brows furrowed. "Get what?" I asked.

"Everyone is afraid, girl. It only matters if you let it."