Lady Of The Courts

Chapter One

‘Blackthorn?’ questioned the girl, confused. ‘The Blackthorns are in England at the moment. I am Cristina Rosales.’

‘Lady of Roses,’ said Aphria, bowing. ‘I came here against the will of my half-brother and my father Padraic Yewslain to warn the good Shadowhunters of an attack on Alicante led by my half-brother.’

‘Just Cristina,’ said Cristina.

‘I am not lying,’ blurted Aphria, noting the doubtful look in Cristina’s brown eyes. ‘My name is Aphria; I am half-faerie, half-Nephilim---like your eldest Blackthorns.’

‘Mark and Helen?’ questioned Cristina, eyebrows raised.

‘I heard of them and of their siblings and of the good Shadowhunters who do not care for the Cold Peace,’ said Aphria. ‘I do not care for those who banished your Helen Blackthorn to Wrangel Island but I came through the Lake of Mirrors and crossed the desert to find this city and the good Shadowhunters.’

‘You better come in,’ said Cristina, opening the door up fully.

Aphria slid her sword out of her sheath and handed it to Cristina, bowing her head respectfully. ‘So you can trust me, Cristina,’ she said. ‘Now you know I cannot stab you in the back.’

‘How did you get this?’ asked Cristina curiously. Aphria noticed a trace of an accent on her voice. ‘Sorry, never mind. Come inside. I can get Diana and Emma is here somewhere, too.’

‘Diana Wrayburn?’ said Aphria excitedly. ‘I know of her. Hyacinth mentioned her. She is the trainer of the Blackthorns.’

‘The tutor,’ corrected Cristina, a smile playing on her lips. ‘This is the entryway.’ She gestured around with her hand.

‘It is more beautiful than the best courtyard of my father’s court,’ murmured Aphria.

The floor depicted an angel rising from Lake Lyn using black and white marble. The angel held the Mortal Cup and sword in its hands. The rest of the entryway was far less beautiful. Uncomfortable-looking furniture lined the wall. A thin layer of dust covered them: it was obvious to her that no-one used them---not often, anyway. There was a staircase right across from the entryway which spilt into two sets of stairs: one to the north wing and one to the south wing.

‘Your father is Lord of the Chameleon Court?’ inquired Cristina, leading Aphria through the Institute to find Diana and Emma.

‘You know of him?’ replied Aphria curiously.

‘Many do,’ said Cristina, her eyes brightening as she saw a blonde girl at the end of the hall. ‘Emma! Where is Diana?’

‘Diana’s in the library, why?’ said the girl that Cristina called Emma. ‘Who is this?’

She sounded rude but in a way Aphria recognised with ease: Emma was blunt and honest. Well, as honest as a Shadowhunter could be.

‘I am Aphria Yewslain, Daughter of Padraic Yewslain of the Chameleon Court. I am of both fey and Nephilim parentage. Today, I come to deliver a message to the good Shadowhunters and the children of Blackthorn blood. May I ask where they are?’

‘They’re in England,’ Emma told her, crossing her arms. She narrowed her brown eyes. ‘What’s this news?’

‘My half-brother plans on attacking before the sun rises on Idris,’ said Aphria. ‘I . . . feel a certain kinship to the eldest Blackthorns and wish to help ensure their younger siblings’ safety on their behalf. I also wish to warn the good Shadowhunters such as Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild and their friends. I do not want any harm to befall them.’