The High Lord's Champion

Lentils and Ashes

I was in a foul mood as I made my way back to my rooms. I'd spent half the day scoping out traitors to Amarantha and doing her mental dirty work. Sometimes I cursed being daemati. Or wished I was a weaker one. Mistakes in my younger years had drawn too much attention. At least she didn't know of my wings.

The second I reached my door I sensed it. Intruder. A human to be precise. I let her hear the lock click, slipping into the room and blowing the candles out. She had already seized her best shot at a weapon, that being a poker to rekindle a dwindling fire. I took my full form, letting the shadows fade away as I sprawled out on the bed, elevating my head with my right arm.

"As wonderful as it is to see you, Feyre, darling, do I want to know why you're digging through my fireplace?"

She sank into a defensive position, her eyes darting towards the door. Foolish girl. "They said I had to clean out lintels from the ashes, or you'd rip off my skin."

A grin covered my face. I knew I was taunting her. "Did they now?"

Every word she bit out held venom. "Do I have you to thank for that idea?"

"Oh, no," I responded, likely raising further suspicion. "No one's learned of our little bargain yet—and you've managed to keep it quiet. Shame riding you a bit hard?"

She clenched her jaw, jabbing her free soot-coated hand towards the dark fireplace. Is this clean enough for you?"

"Why were there lentils in my fireplace to begin with?"

The look in her eyes could kill, but she'd yet to curse at me or try to run. "One of your mistress's household chores, I suppose."

Yes, it appears that venomous tone is not accompanied by cursing when she isn't on death's door. Free of fever and standing with a second chance she remembered my power and the rumors about me. Smart girl.

I raised my left hand, examining my nails with a little hum. "Apparently she or her cronies think I'll find some sport with you."

She swallowed. "Or it's a test for you. You said you bet on  me during my first task. She didn't seem pleased about it."

"And what could Amarantha possibly have to test me about?"

She didn't cower under my hardened gaze. "You lied to her. About Clare. You knew very well what I looked like."

I shot into a sitting position, resting my forearms on my thighs as my eyes bore into her. "Amarantha plays her games," I  finally yielded, "and I play mine. It gets rather boring down here, day after day."

"She let you out for Fire Night. And you somehow got out to put that head in the garden."

"She asked me to put that head in the garden. And as for Fire Night..." Every wall and ceiling in Prythian has an ear on it. I had some observations to make. I gave her a once over. "I had my reasons to be out then. Do not think, Feyre, that it did not cost me." I gave her another half smile. "Are you going to put down that poker, or can I expect you to start swinging soon?" Her face pinched for a moment, telling me she was quite confident in thinking I hadn't noticed. She didn't put it down. Ballsy after all. I grinned. Cassian wasn't the only Illyrian who would find her a suitable opponent. "A valiant effort, but useless."

"How is it that you have such power still and the others don't? I thought she robbed all of you of your abilities."

I raised a brow at the question. So her High Lord had told her nothing. Lies were required, but to keep even the slightest details from his supposed love... Tamlin has never been one to trust women with anything important. "Oh, she took my powers. This..." I reached out to that unguarded mind of hers. We'd work on that when the trials were through with. The second she felt my talons she was stumbling back as if distance would be an escape. "This is just the remnant. The scraps I get to play with. Your Tamlin has brute strength and shape-shifting; my arsenal is a far deadlier assortment."

I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. Just for a moment she wondered if I was going to put those awful powers to use in this moment. Or at least a hint of them. Her bargain with Amarantha was a safety net no one could breach. "So you can't shape-shift? It's not some High Lord specialty?"

"Oh, all the High Lords can. Each of us has a beast roaming beneath our skin, roaring to get out. While your Tamlin prefers fur, I find wings and talons to be more entertaining." Illyrian wings in particular, not that that was any of her business.

"Can you shift now or did she take that too?"

"So many questions from a little human," I taunted. Still I let the darkness swirl around me, showing exactly what I had promised. Talons and wings, the latter folded in behind me. I thought the sight would terrify her. Instead I saw intrigue, even sensing admiration. With a roll of my neck they were tucked away. "No attempt at flattery?"

She rolled her eyes. "You have a high-enough opinion of yourself already. I doubt the flattery of a little human matters much to you."

I chuckled, watching her shiver slightly. "I can't decide whether I should consider you admirable or very stupid for being so bold with a High Lord."

Beron would have burned every inch of her by now, within Amarantha's bargain of course. Her look of panic told me she was thinking again about checking her tone. Still, if only out of sheer desperation she dared to ask me, "Do you know the answer to the riddle?"

I crossed my arms. "Cheating, are you?" She didn't need to know I'd handed it to Amarantha.

"She didn't say I couldn't ask for help."

"Ah, but after she had you beaten to hell, she ordered us not to help you." She waited, doing her best to keep still. I shook my head. "Even if I felt like helping you, I couldn't. She gives the order and we all bow to it." I flicked away some dust at the top of my jacket. "Don't waste your breath," I said when she made to speak again. "I can't tell you—no one here can. If she ordered us to stop breathing, we would have to obey that, too. I frowned, cleaning her of the soot, ash, and dirt with a snap. "There. A gift—for having the balls to even ask." Again, she turned that venomous glare on me. I simply directed her attention to the hearth and bucket, summoning the guards I predicted were assigned to her. "She accomplished her task. Take her back."

Just before they could grab her like a pair of brutes I slipped into their minds. "No more household chores, no more tasks." Their eyes dulled, their jaws slackening. "Tell the others, too. Stay out of her cell, and don't touch her. If you do, you're to take you own daggers and gut yourselves. Understood."

Feyre's eyes had gone wide, likely praying I never turned my daemati gift on her. I smiled a cruel smile. "Your welcome."

I watched her back as she was taken away. Human or not, this woman had fire. Human or not, Feyre Archeron had raw potential. It's about time Amarantha really saw that.