A Court of Chaos and Confusion - An ACOTAR Rewrite

Chapter 24

The next day, I joined Lucien and Tamlin for lunch – which was breakfast for all of us. Ever since I'd made the comment about the unnecessary size of the table, we'd taken to dining at a much-reduced version. Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, "Tired?"

Lucien's metal eye narrowed on me. "We didn't come back until after dawn. The real question is why aren't you just as tired, Feyre?"

I glanced at Tamlin, then back to Lucien before biting my lip and casting my eyes down. I'd practically floated into my bedroom that morning. When I looked back up, however, Tamlin's gaze was roving my face as if searching for.... something. I cocked my head to the side slightly, studying the High Lord of Spring, before answering Lucien. "My night actually ended when we got back. Based on your overall demeanor and lack of manners I'd say yours continued well after our return. Another dalliance of yours?" 

Tamlin braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me and gave a pointed cough, and Lucien responded in kind, "I did have some company." He gave me a sly grin, casting a look to Tamlin. I wondered then if he regretted the stolen touches between us as the dawn emerged, or if I had imagined the whole thing. Probably the latter. Ridiculous.

Tamlin's eyes were still studying my face and his eyes flicked to my lips. I shook my head, sure I had imagined the glance, and took another bite of my food and ignored him. After several moments I shifted in my seat under his gaze, which I could swear was now intent and hungry. Lucien must have noticed my unease because he cleared his throat to get his High Lord's attention. Tamlin's eyes dragged away from my face and I blinked, the air whooshing out of me. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.

"Not to be the bearer of truly bad tidings, but my contact at the Winter Court managed to get a letter to me." Lucien took a steadying breath, and I wondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster and why he was bothering to say this in my presence at all. "The blight," Lucien said tightly, softly, as Tamlin's smile fell instantly from his face. "It took out two dozen of their younglings. Two dozen, all gone." He swallowed. "It just... burned through their magic, then broke apart their minds. No one in Winter Court could do anything – no one could stop it once it turned its attention toward them. Their grief is... unfathomable. My contact says other courts are being hit hard – though the Night Court, of course, manages to remain unscathed. But the blight seems to be sending its wickedness this way – farther south with every attack."

All the warmth and good humor drained from me. "The blight... killed two dozen children?" I managed to say. Younglings. It had killed children, like some storm of darkness and death. And if offspring were as rare as Alis had claimed, the loss of so many would be more devastating than I could imagine. I felt my stomach drop from under me and was grateful I was still sitting for my legs would surely have gone out from me. I couldn't fathom the loss, the grief the Winter Court must be experiencing in light of such horror.

Tamlin's eyes were shadowed, and he slowly shook his head – as if trying to clear the grief and shock of those deaths from him. "The blight is capable of hurting us in ways you –" He shot to his feet so quickly that his chair flipped over. His claws burst forth and he snarled at the open doorway, canines long and gleaming.

The house, usually full of the whispering skirts and chatter of servants, had gone silent.

Not the pregnant silence of Calanmai, but rather a trembling quiet that made me want to scramble under the table or just start running. Lucien swore and drew his sword.

"Get Feyre to the window – by the curtains," Tamlin growled to Lucien, not taking his eyes off the open doors. Lucien's hand gripped my elbow, dragging me out of my chair.