Thrones of Fire and Darkness

Chapter Eight

Two days.

It took two days to plan an invasion of the Autumn Court. Two days to think of an alibi. Two days to stock up on supplies and convince the rest of the court that we were going to visit Viviane in the Winter Court. Two days to contact Viviane and make sure she stuck to the story. Two days to break through the protective wards around the palace and find the location of the dungeons. Two days to journey to the area, to make sure we were ready if things went sour.

And now we were there.

"Alright, you know the drill," Mor muttered under her breath. It took me a minute to realize she was talking to me. "Oh. Oh, yes. I know the drill." She looked at me. "Feyre, you have to get your head in the game. This could very easily go badly." I hadn't seen this calculating, concerned side of her since the War. Even the crease between her eyebrows had made a reappearance.

I nodded at her, attempting to look reassuring. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm ready." She studied me for a second, then turned her attention back towards the foreboding castle. "And the rendezvous point?" I sighed. We'd gone over this hundreds of times. "The East Wing throne room for inside, the west courtyard for outside. I know, Mor." She sighed.

"I know, Feyre. It's just... you're my High Lady. Nothing can happen to you. And more than that, you're my friend. I know firsthand the horrors of this court." I bit the inside of my cheek, then asked more gently, "Are you... can you do this? Are you in the right mindset?" She took a couple of heartbeats to answer. Then, "I have to be."

And with that, she grabbed my hand, and we were inside.

*Lysandra's POV*

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Evangeline had, quite literally, vanished. Search party after search party. Scouting trip after scouting trip. No sign of a struggle, no note. Just a certain missing girl. In the four years since the war, she'd never left. And if she had, to go visit someone - usually Elide - she always told us ahead of time. She'd grown into a young woman, trained by all of us. Now as cunning as Elide, as calculating as Lorcan, as determined as Aelin, able to fight or think of bluff her way out of any situation. She was smarter than this.

I hadn't been away from her for this long since... probably since I'd met her. I tried not to think about the day. About the broken, sobbing girl I'd found in the corridor, curled up on herself. I tried not to think about the feeling of the cold hilt of that knife, of warm blood on my hands. Of her crying.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I was getting her back if it killed me. Rowan, Lorcan, even Aedion kept urging me to wait, to be patient. It had been weeks. Carraverre could survive without me, with Aedion co-ruling. And Aelin recognized that, deep down. I couldn't lose another person I cared about, and neither could she. Which was why I was currently sneaking into the royal bedroom.

Rowan was in Perranth, negotiating with a few unruly lords. Gunnar and Ironwood were being as annoying as ever, despite Darrow's eventual acceptance of Aelin's rule. Aelin... I didn't know where Aelin was, but even if she caught me... she understood. Aelin, Aedion and I were the core of Evangeline's new family. Aedion could think of this situation tactically, but Aelin and I could not, no matter how much my friend tried.

I winced as I narrowly avoided stepping on a creaky floorboard and nearly sighed in relief once the door opened without a sound. Thank the gods and Temis for oiled hinges. Slipping into the room, a hand on the knife at my side, I made my way to the desk, rifling through stray papers, thumbing through books. Despite Rowan's best attempts, the desk was just as messy as Aelin's official side of the room. Clothes and empty chocolate boxes were strewn everywhere, and I practically had to hop across the room as I crossed to the bookshelf.