A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ High Lord of Autumn ☆

"You're dead," Tamlin breathed, arms slackening at his sides. Sunlight burnished the gold embroidering of his tunic and his sharp crown of flowers, a halo surrounding his head as he paused.

Rhysand’s eyes hardened, the stars winking out in his gaze.  "Tamlin, we’ll discuss later," he said, and Eblis straightened as Tamlin stared at her again. He was slack-jawed.

Eblis watched as Feyre's hand clenched Rhys's beneath the table, but she could not decide what part Feyre had with Tamlin. It couldn't have been good from the bite in Rhys's voice—even if he knew it was no longer Tamlin that had killed his family. But perhaps…

Eblis froze. Rhysand blamed himself. It was his way—everything always had to be his fault even if he didn’t know. He’d killed Tamlin’s family to avenge their deaths and they’d never actually done anything. He felt guilty. He had killed Tamlin's family because they had killed his—but her coming back, telling her story, had revealed that the High Lord of Spring hadn't killed his mother and sister. Now, it appeared as if Rhys had murdered out of cold blood.

Tamlin, ignoring the pair, kept a sharp eye on Eblis, as if she'd disappear. She straightened under the gaze.

It would be difficult to explain to the High Lord of Spring what had actually happened, and Eblis internally winced at what he would accuse her brother of after.

Murder.

Rhys was taking a big risk with exposing everything, she realized. It wouldn't be just murder—it would be murder of another High Lord's family.

Eblis blinked and the Summer court had filled the room, the smell of brine almost a heady perfume from their skin. Tarquin was resplendent in a tunic of cobalt blue like the deepest trench of the ocean, a garland of roses clasped around his white-blonde head. At his side, the prince and princess of Adriata strode in with matching sea-foam outfits, and, unlikely—Amren was there too.

Eblis stared at the short female, the crisp curtain of dark hair on her head still kept at an immaculate chin-length level, earrings of sun-bright gems in her ears and lavishing on her neck. Her outfit was loose and airy, still a blood-ruby that she favored though it was hemmed with crushed sea-shells. She, like many others, eyed Eblis with a flash of curiosity, her silver gaze then sliding to Rhysand's. They demanded an explanation for the character behind him.

Amren slipped back in with her own court—right next to Mor who grinned at her.

“Have fun playing in the waves?” Morrigan asked, fur-lined clothes massive compared to the small female.

Amren snorted, waving the comment away. Her silver gaze drew to Eblis.

She almost gasped. “Your eyes!” she said, not realizing she’d been staring at her. Something had seemed off about her, and she finally came to the conclusion as to why. Her eyes—normally a swirling silver of power—had flattened into an utterly mortal immortal gaze. 

“Who are you?” Amren replied, gaze hard. Eblis withdrew. 

“Oh uh, it’s Eblis, Rhysand’s sister.” It stumbled out horribly weird. She’d have to get used to presenting herself that way—especially if she were to do so in front of all the High Lord’s soon. 

The female raised a dark brow, clearly not believing her. “Very lively corpse.”

Mor laughed, noticing the beginning of their arguing. “Five centuries later and you still grind foreheads.” The smaller female harrumphed.

“We weren’t even arguing.” Amren swept a silver gaze over her once more. “You’ve aged more than you should’ve, girl.” 

She blinked. Almost nervously, she said, “Was that a warning?”