𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜: 𝚂𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝙴𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯(𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 35)

     I dozed on and off for what could have been hours or days. They gave me three miserable meals of stale bread and water at no regular interval that I could detect.

     All I knew when the door to my cell swung open was that my relentless hunger no longer mattered, and it would be wise not to struggle when the two squat, red-skinned faeries half dragged me to the throne room.

     I marked the path, picking out details in the hall--interesting cracks in the walls, features in the tapestries, an odd bend--anything to remind me of the way out of the dungeons.

     I observed more of Amaros's throne room this time, too, noting the exits. No windows, as we were underground. And the mountain I'd seen depicted on that map at the manor was in the heart of the land--far from the Spring Court, even farther from the wall. If I were to escape with Tamlin, my best chance would be to run for that cave in the belly of the mountain.

     A crowd of faeries stood along a far wall. Over their heads, I could make out the arch of a doorway. I tried not to look up at Clare's rotting body as we passed, and instead focused on the assembled court. Everyone was clad in rich, colorful clothing--all of them seeming clean and fed.

     Dispersed among them were faeries with masks. The Spring Court. If I had any chance of finding allies, it would be with them.

     I scanned the crowd for Lucien but didn't find him before I was thrown at the foot of the dais. Amaros wore a red suit, drawing attention to his red-gold hair.

"You're not looking well." He turned to Tamlin, still at his side. His expression remained distant. "Wouldn't you say she's taken a turn for the worse?"

     He didn't reply; he didn't even meet my gaze.

"You know," Amaros drawled, leaning against an arm of his throne, "I couldn't sleep last night, and I realized why this morning." He ran an eye over me. "I don't know your name. If you and I are going to be such close friends for the next three months, I should know your name, shouldn't I?"

     I prevented myself from nodding. There was something charming and inviting about him--a part of me began to understand why the High Lords had fallen under his thrall, believed in his lies. I hated him for it.

     When I didn't reply, Amaros frowned. "Come, now, pet. You know my name--isn't it fair that I know yours?"

     There was movement to my right, and I tensed as the Attor appeared through the parted crowd, grinning at me with row after row of teeth.

"After all—" Aamros waved a firm hand to the space behind me, the crystal casing around Jurian's eye catching the light--"you've already learned the consequences of giving false names."

      A black cloud wrapped around me as I sensed Clare's nailed form on the wall behind me. Still, I kept my mouth shut.

"Rhysand," Amaros said--not needing to raise his voice to summon her.

     My heart became a leaden weight as those casual, strolling steps sounded from behind. They stopped when they were beside me--far too close for my liking.

     From the corner of my eye, I studied the Lady of the Night Court as she bowed. Night still seemed to ripple off her, like some near-invisible cloak.

     Amaros lifted his brows. "Is this the girl you saw at Tamlin's estate?"

     She brushed some invisible fleck of dust off the bodice of her black gown before she surveyed me. Her violet eyes held boredom--and disdain. "I suppose."

"But did you or did you not tell me that girl," Amaros said, his tone sharpening as he pointed to Clare, "was the one you saw?"

"Humans all look alike to me."