A Court of Chaos and Confusion - An ACOTAR Rewrite

Chapter 25

I lay in bed, watching the pools of moonlight shift on the floor. It was an effort not to dwell on the exchange I'd had with Tamlin after Rhysand's departure – the exchange that made him order me and Lucien to leave and shut the door to the dining room. Had I not been so intent on understanding what everything I'd just encountered meant, had been less impulsive and worked up the courage to ask Lucien about it – about everything – I might have gotten some answers. But no, I'd gone right off on Tamlin demanding answers to questions I didn't even understand. It was even more of an effort not to recall the roaring that rattled the chandelier or the cracking of shattering furniture that echoed through the house. Alis was waiting with a cup of hot chocolate once I bolted to my room.

I didn't go to dinner. I didn't want to know if there was a dining room to eat in. And I couldn't bring myself to paint.

The house had been quiet for some time now, but the ripples of Tamlin's rage echoed through it, reverberating in the very foundation.

I couldn't stop thinking about all that Rhysand had said – about the looming storm of the blight, or Under the Mountain and why I might be forced to go there. And Amarantha – at last a name to go with the female presence that stalked their lives. I shuddered each time I considered how deadly she must be to command the High Lords of Prythian. To hold Rhysand's leash and to make Tamlin beg to keep me hidden from her.

The door creaked, and I jerked upright. Moonlight glimmered on gold, but it did little to ease my nerves as Tamlin shut the door and approached my bed. His steps were slow and heavy – and he didn't speak until he'd taken a seat on the edge of the mattress.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice was hoarse and empty.

"For your outburst? Or our argument after? Or are you referring to the omission of truth and leaving me completely blind in the face of someone as dangerous as this Amarantha person?" I demanded, clenching the sheets in my hands, not missing the way he flinched when I said the name.

"For the danger I put you in today." He growled, and grabbed one of my hands, wrenching my fingers from the sheets. "It's..." He hung his head, sighing deeply as his hand tightened on mine and I resisted the urge to yank it back, wary of the claws that could come out at the slightest wrong move. "Feyre... I wish..." He shook his head and cleared his throat. "There are things I simply cannot tell you."

Something inside me sputtered out, and that anger and resentment turned cold and dead. "What?"

"There are... there are people who would hurt you, Feyre. Hurt you because of what you are to me. I thought I would be able to handle them, to shield you from it, but after today..." He was scared, I realized. Genuinely frightened about what might happen to me if someone were to hurt me - if this Amarantha person got her hands on me. Because, for whatever reason, the High Lord of Spring had grown fond of me. I wasn't delusional enough to think he was interested in me beyond the way Rhysand made it seem, but I certainly wasn't interested in the same, and we had a somewhat pleasant friendship between us. 

And, more importantly, we both cared about Lucien.

"You don't think you can protect me." I said it as a fact, no question or fear behind the statement. "You know I can –"

"You can't," he said, and his voice wobbled. "Because I can't." He squeezed my hand harder. "I can't even protect myself against them, against what's happening in Prythian." I felt every word as his breath hit my face in a rush of hot, frantic air. "Even if we stood against the blight... they would hunt you down – she would find a way to kill you."

"Amarantha." He bristled at the name again but nodded. "Who is-"

"She has spies everywhere, and they're going to be looking for you." He shot to his feet, snarling. "Rhys was just the start of it. Are you prepared to face the Attor when it returns? Do you know what kind of creatures the Attor answers to? Things like the Bogge – and worse."

"Scaring me hasn't worked thus far, and it certainly won't deter me now. I may not know what kind of trouble you're all really in, what dangers you're truly facing, but I know this blight, this Amarantha, is the cause of it all. You showed me mercy when you had every right to call for my death for murdering your friend. Let me help you –"

"No." He paced before the bed. "Didn't you read between the lines today?"

I had, but I lifted my chin and crossed my arms. "There's no other option. It's not like you can send me away."

"I want to send you away because it makes me sick thinking about you in their hands!"

Silence fell, filled only by the sounds of his heavy breathing. He sank onto the bed again and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

His words echoed through me, melting my anger, turning everything inside me cold and frail. "But you're not, right?"

He didn't reply right away. Finally, after what felt like forever and the feeling of dread had settled into my core he finally spoke and said, "I don't know."

I couldn't go home, couldn't be sent away from this place. Now that I'd been on this side of the wall, even with all the horrors and threats of impending danger, I couldn't imagine ever going back to the bleak nothingness that was my life before this. "I suppose it would be easier if I were gone," I sighed, looking away from him. "Who wants someone around who's so..." I gestured to all of me, unable to finish the thought.

"You were perfect." He took my hand again and the roughness of his fingers on my skin made me itch but I appreciated the gesture. "I don't have anywhere else to send you where you would be safe. Lucien and I... we'll talk tomorrow and come up with a plan. I just... We can't protect you the way we thought we could." Though the horror of Rhysand's magic still haunted me, I squeezed Tamlin's hand back, the only gesture I could think of to show my appreciation.

He leaned forward quite suddenly and embraced me in a way I hadn't seen anyone do since leaving home. I hesitated for a moment before I returned the gesture awkwardly, trying not to be self-conscious about the feeling of his hands through the thin silk of my nightgown.

After several long moments he finally dropped his hands and I moved away. "I should leave. We should sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"Tomorrow?"

"At dawn Lucien and I will gather the other sentries and try and figure out if there's anywhere that might be safe for you."

"But shouldn't I-"

He stood up in a smooth motion, all signs of sentiment gone and replaced by the High Lord I was all too familiar with. "Please, Feyre."

Please. Tamlin had bowed before Rhysand, for my sake. I didn't understand why he'd put himself so low for someone as insignificant as me.

"Will you at least let me in on the decision of my fate once it's been decided?" I finally lamented as he stood by the door, ready to leave.

He only nodded, although I could have sworn I heard him whisper something as he closed the door. If he had it was lost in the sounds of the night.