𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

Rhys expected us to join him for breakfast. Our old handmaidens from Under the Mountain appeared at our door just past dawn. Nuala and Cerridwen were their names.

Their gentle knock hurled us awake. After the second, patient knock, followed by a muffled explanation through the door of who they were, Feyre scrambled out of bed to let them in.

Feyre bathed first, then me. We dressed in some clothes that had been laid out for us. He'd laid out a pair of loose pants and a shirt for me. I'd never worn pants before.

I'd never felt so free and comfortable in clothes before. I could move freely. I tried not to get too comfortable, remembering who gave them to me.

I felt a tug in my head, one that made me whirl around to face Feyre, whose eyes were wide.

"Did you feel that?" I asked her.

"Yes," she replied, the words a sneer.

At the very end of the upper level there was a small glass table set with four chairs and laden with fruits, juices, pastries, and breakfast meats.

"We are not dogs to be summoned," Feyre snarled at Rhys.

Slowly, Rhys looked over his shoulder. Those violet eyes were vibrant in the light. He frowned at whatever he found lacking.

"I didn't want you to get lost," he said blandly.

"I thought it'd always be dark here," Feyre said. Indeed, it was bright outside.

"We're one of the three Solar Courts," he said, motioning for us to sit. "Our nights are far more beautiful, and our sunsets and dawns are exquisite, but we do adhere to the laws of nature."

"And do the other courts choose not to?" Feyre asked.

"The nature of the Seasonal Courts," he said, "is linked to their High Lords, whose magic and will keeps them in eternal spring, or winter, or fall, or summer. It has always been like that—some sort of strange stagnation. But the Solar Courts—Day, Dawn, and Night—are of a more symbolic nature. We might be powerful, but even we cannot alter the suns path or strength. Tea?"

Both of us nodded.

"But you will find," Rhysand went on, pouring a cup for us, "that our nights are more spectacular—so spectacular that some in my territory even awaken at sunset and go to bed at dawn, just to live under the starlight."

"Why is it so warm in here, when winter is in full blast out there?" Feyre wondered.

"Magic."

"Obviously. But why?"

"You heat a house in the winter—why shouldnt I heat this place as well? Ill admit I dont know why my predecessors built a palace fit for the Summer Court in the middle of a mountain range thats mildly warm at best, but who am I to question?"

He stared at us as Feyre piled some fruit onto her plate. I didn't eat, just sipped at my tea.

"You've both lost weight," he observed.

"Youre prone to digging through our heads whenever you please," Feyre said. "I dont see why youre surprised by it."

"Only occasionally will I do that. And I cant help it if you send things down the bond."

"How does it work—this bond that allows you to see into our heads?" Feyre asked.

"Think of the bargains bond as a bridge between us—and at either end is a door to our respective minds. A shield. My innate talents allow me to slip through the mental shields of anyone I wish, with or without that bridge—unless theyre very, very strong, or have trained extensively to keep those shields tight. As a human, the gates to your mind were flung open for me to stroll through. As Fae, sometimes, you unwittingly have a shield up—sometimes, when emotion seems to be running strong, that shield vanishes. And sometimes, when those shields are open, you might as well be standing at the gates to your mind, shouting your thoughts across the bridge to me. Sometimes I hear them; sometimes I dont. Now, Mary's shields are a bit stronger than yours. Probably because I taught her how to put them up centuries ago. But she still lets things get to me every now and then."