Thousands of years before Feyre Cursebreaker was so much as a whisper of thought on the breeze, there was another girl in another forest - Carbhan, a half fae girl eking out a living in the largest and most vicious court in Prythian, the Dusk Court...
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I turned slowly, wiping my emotions from my face. "I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about," I told Caer as he stepped into the glow of sunlight that fell from the skylights.
He raised a brow. "Really?" he asked disbelievingly as Daor quietly retreated down the stairs.
I didn't allow my eyes to wander over the loft—over the shelves and shelves of carefully laid out tools, or the stacks of various woods around the walls, or the huge, flat table that was clearly intended as a workspace. "Really," I replied coolly. "I have no idea why you'd think that I would."
A smile appeared that didn't reach his eyes. "Your weapons."
My hand reach toward them automatically before falling back to my side. "What about them?"
He stalked forward until he was close enough that I could have kicked him in the most uncomfortable of place, if I had chosen. He ran one finger along the upper curve of my bow where it rose over my shoulder. I fought the urge to pull away in disgust at his nearness. Here was a man who embodied the worst things about the court—their emotional chill, their self absorption, their inability to see anyone who wasn't a pure High Fae as a person. A little voice in the back of my head whispered that maybe I should kill him now—I might be able to strike him with my bo quickly enough that he couldn't retaliate with magic. If I could take out the lord of this terrible court before I was killed, perhaps it would give some value to my death. "Their quality," he said, freezing my thoughts. "It's superb. Masterful craftsmanship is required to engrave a bow and arrows so extensively without damaging the integrity of the wood or the flight of the arrows, and I do believe we saw in the woods that yours work flawlessly."
I stared into his grey eyes, noting tiny flecks of lavender. He appeared to be sincere. I stamped down a tendril of pride before it could show on my face. "So what?" I asked. "As I recall, your bow is similarly carved."
His head tilted to the side and a small, emotionless smile graced his lips. "The very fact that you noticed the craftsmanship of my bow when you were surrounded by enemies proves my point, but fine. I'll play." I wanted to smack myself. "I am the High Lord of the Dusk Court, and as such, am frequently gifted items of the very finest make in the courtiers' attempts to gain my favor. You, on the other hand, are part of a trio of half-breeds who live hiding out in the woods. The only way you could get hold of such weapons would be if you made them." I hardly processed the insulting undertones to his statement. A trio of half-breeds who live hiding out in the woods. So he truly didn't know—didn't suspect. I would have wilted with relief if my every movement hadn't been under his careful scrutiny.
Instead I said, "Even so, why would you think it's me? As you mentioned, I wasn't alone, and I think you may recall that my companions' weapons were similarly decorated." In fact, the carvings on Samyani's staff and Nareena's bow and arrows were all done at about the same time as my own.
