Court of Shadows (Indefinite Hiatus)

PART 17: FEYRE

Feyre found herself coming to despise evening meals. Once again, she was sitting at the table listening to the delegations jab at each other over their bowls of soup. The constant beguile was insufferable, and Feyre found her mind wandering often.

She glanced over to Lucien and saw him doing much the same. The wall party had returned after their trip to the first breach; they planned to restock on provisions and head out to the second in the morning.

The Hybern highnesses were cryptic about what had occurred on the trip-- only saying that they intended on evaluating both holes before making any decisions. Feyre had yet to get Lucien's side of the events, but intended to later that night.

At some point during the meal, Feyre's attention was drawn across the table to where the Queen sat with her soldiers hovering behind her. Her wineglass stood untouched, and her males edgier than usual.

Accustomed to the fae queen's taste for luxury, Feyre found the refusal of wine as odd. She casually took a sip of soup and reached out with her mind, brushing against the Queen's males.

She was immediately swept with a wave of malicious intent toward the Hybern twins. Their protective instincts were on high alert, and the predatory intensity with which they watched their Queen made it difficult for Feyre to decipher the perceived threat.

Once she filtered out some of the emotions, Feyre figured out that something had been put in the wine. Some kind of poison that weakened magical abilities.

She was immediately intrigued. Her gaze jumped back across the table to where the Queen's soldiers threw murderous glares at Dagdan and Brannagh.

Feyre looked down at her own untouched glass, suddenly grateful for her distaste for fae wine, and wondered why the Queen had not said something about the poison.

She turned to her left and saw Tamlin setting down his wineglass, its contents nearly empty; it dawned on her. Whether out of wicked curiosity or her own underhanded plot, the Queen clearly had no intention of informing her hosts of the contaminated drink.

Feyre opened her mouth to warn Tamlin and Lucien, but stopped when she realized that she had no way to explain her accusation. She felt the weight of eyes and inconspicuously turned to the pointed gaze of one of the Queen's males. Fenrys.

From across the long dining room, he gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Feyre was being baited.

She forced herself to swallow her warning and returned to her plate.

For the rest of the meal, she paid extra attention to Tamlin and Lucien, watching for any signs of poison and scanning their minds for a mental indication.

After a while, Feyre relaxed. If Dagdan and Brannagh had put something in the wine, it wasn't fast-acting, and she could think of no motive they would have for killing Tamlin so early on in their partnership. It was possible that the poison really did only weaken magical abilities.

If that was the case, Feyre felt secure enough in waiting to warn Tamlin and Lucien until after the meal had finished.

The night progressed, and Feyre's mind continued to wander back to the concept of a magically weakening poison, and what it might mean for her plans-- for the war against Hybern entirely.

Every once in awhile, Queen Maeve cast glances in Feyre's direction, waiting for her to take the lure. But Feyre was already lost in thought, developing a plan that, for once, just might work.

...

The dark hallway echoed with the sharp thud of Feyre's knuckles against the wooden door. The door swung open, light spilling from the room.

"Feyre." Lucien said by way of greeting.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Lucien's russet eye whirled as he looked down at her. Then, with a slow nod of his head, he pushed the door open wider and motioned her inside.

Rather than take one of the chairs, Feyre paced by the fireplace. Lucien settled across the room, where he watched her disdainfully.

Feyre stopped her pacing and turned to the emissary. "I have reason to believe that Dagdan and Brannagh are poisoning us."

Lucien's eye widened, and Feyre jumped into her crafted explanation. When she was done telling her story of eavesdropping on servants and careful observation, Lucien had crossed the room to stand in front of the fire as well.

He watched his hands contemplatively.

"Do you feel any different?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Not that I can say. Though perhaps, it is too soon to tell." He fisted his hands. "How do we know that it was only in the wine?"

Feyre replied, "We don't."

The room lulled into silence as they both considered their situation, Feyre mentally crossing her fingers that Lucien would come to the same conclusion on his own.

Minutes passed before Lucien broke the quiet. "We have to get a sample of this poison... to find out what it's made of, what it's doing to us, if there's an antidote."

Lucien and Feyre made eye contact, a silent agreement on the last purpose: to see if it can be replicated.

Lucien continued. "I think you should stay here tomorrow."

Feyre started, but Lucien cut her off. "I know," he said, his eyes reflecting sincerely. "-- but with Dagdan and Brannagh off examining the wall, it's the most opportune time for you to search their rooms-- see if they've stored any of this poison in the manor."

Feyre stilled. "Or," he started again. "If it isn't Hybern behind the poison at all..." He looked at her meaningfully. "--then, you need to be here, keeping an eye on things."

Feyre nodded reluctantly. She had good reason to believe that the Queen wasn't behind the poisoned wine, but couldn't explain that to Lucien without revealing herself as well.

Feyre rubbed her arms, the room chilling as the fire began to die. "Are we not going to warn Tamlin?" she asked.

Lucien took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "The fact that you came to me first tells me that you're already of the same opinion." He crossed his arms. "Involving Tamlin this early on would... complicate things." They looked at each other knowingly, guilt leaking into Lucien's expression.

Feyre nodded in consolation.

Lucien cleared his throat. "Alright. Tomorrow, you'll stay behind and see what you can find in the Hyberns' absence, and I'll poke around the campsite as much as I can while we're out."

"Agreed," Feyre concluded.

They slipped into silence once more, their tasks looming in the air. Feyre glanced at the clock and began heading out.

Lucien stopped her. "Thank you," he said, his russet eye seeming to focus on her for a moment before returning to its usual spin.

Feyre looked up at him steadily. "Good night, Lucien."

Despite having her back to him while leaving his room and crossing the hall, Feyre hid the smile that threatened to break on her face. She told herself that she would celebrate once the rest of her plan fell into place.