A Court of Tears and Starlight

Decisions

TAMLIN

We sat around the giant dining table feasting on the very best of everything I had. Never in all my many centuries had there ever been such a gathering. All seven High Lords and Feyre dining together. I  smiled inwardly at the way my wild poor hunter had emerged into the regal predator before me. I frowned. She wasn't mine anymore. But neither did it appear that all was well between her and Rhysand either. Not that either of them had a choice as far as the bond was concerned. Yet she was definitely unhappy when he made his appearance at her duel earlier this morning. They sat apart, not looking at each other. A clear chill and dislike for each other radiated off them both. The other High Lords would definitely assume this was due to the bargain and the fact that Feyre was forced to give Rhysand a week of every month of her life. To a human that agreement was not so bad, but in the gist of immortality it was a surmountable amount of time in slavery. 

I felt both stunned and pleased with how this mornings show had gone. I had pestered Lucien until he had agreed to train with Feyre. I suspected she would be good, given how quickly she had previously picked up fighting with daggers. About an hour into their training session I had subtly dropped that she was duelling Lucien to the other High Lords and they had all hungrily followed me out to the training yard. Everyone of them was like a circling eagle, just waiting to find a weakness and then swoop down on their prey. They were desperate to see more of what Feyre's suspected talents entailed. 

She had delivered all I wanted and then some with that little dagger stunt. She had frightened even me. Given time she would be completely invincible. The others knew it too know. I could see them all currently sitting around her, leaning in, trying to charm her and build an alliance. They were threatened by the hold I and Rhysand had on her. Such absolute power needed to be shared or it would create a rift in Prythian where, for the first time in history, there may be a civil war in which the stronger court seized control of the weaker. If only they knew. For strategists who prided themselves on seeing so far ahead they were incredibly blind when it came to Feyre. Hadn't they seen her for what she was beneath the mountain? Even as a very weak human she had been willing to give her life for our freedom. She was selfless, generous and caring. I had seen her starved, frozen and robbed of her childhood to save her family. She had given so much and expected nothing in return. I knew that when it came to the crunch she would give no less for every single fae and human in Prythian.  As she had again proven when her first arrow had been spent on freeing the Suriel rather than saving herself. 

I looked up as a heated argument began around the table.

"We should take the fight to Hybern, instead of sitting around and waiting to be attacked!" Boomed the High Lord of the Autumn Court. There were a few nod of agreement around the table, but just as many objections. All of the sudden the conversation became a flurried chaos of voices calling out over the top of each other. 

"We have the advantage here!" 

"That's fine for you all to say but his fleets will hit my court first!"

"You're a bunch of cowards!"

"None of this would have happened if we just kept those filthy humans as slaves!"

"Damn Aramantha for bring this down upon us."

"We lost so many in the last few decades that Prythian is weak for the taking."

"How do I know I can trust any of you? You might just sell yourselves to him just like you did with Amarantha!"

Their voices rose until all words became incoherent screams and chairs were thrown back from the table. The now standing High Lords lent forward on the table yelling and threatening each other. I looked up at Feyre who was frozen in shock. She kept opening her mouth and trying to speak but her words were lost in the storm of voices that were raging around her.