A Court of Illyrian Hearts

Chapter Thirty

Just a quick note: the video linked above is what I imagine Cassian and Baelyn singing about how they both want to get away from Windhaven and to each other. Also it sounds like them to me but goodness knows how many books I associate this song with haha.

Cassian POV

The messenger came a week after Baelyn had left.

A raging Nesta had arrived soon after.

My heart beat wildly in my chest as I took in the news of what happened.

My mate had fought the High Lady's sister.

As the messenger speaks – intermittently interrupted by a fuming Nesta, adding her own details of how terrible my 'bitch of a mate' is – I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning with pride.

My mate had kicked Nesta's ass in less than a minute. It wasn't surprising that she had bested the weaker female, but it sure was satisfying to know she'd gotten in the punches that had been itching her since the day they met.

Feyre, however, was less than pleased.

'You challenged her?' she incredulously asks her sister, in a voice that even I wanted to run from. Nyx, currently in Aunt Mor's arms, was excited by all the buzz, his eyes darting from person to person.

'She practically begged me to with the insults she was throwing at me!' Nesta folds her arms. 'Are you going to do anything about this?'

My High Lady closed her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. Rhys, at her side, lays a comforting hand around her slim shoulders. 'Nesta,' Feyre gets out, her name said in an exasperated sigh. 'there's nothing I can do; you challenged her in a public place, with witnesses. The Illyrian laws state that whatever the outcome of the fight is lies strictly between the fighters. And since you fought on Illyrian soil you have disgraced me in front of the most difficult division of the Night Court. Interfering would only shame us further.' Feyre meets her sister's blazing eyes, mouth a thin line. 'Why did you even think you could beat her?'

A roll of silver eyes. 'I thought she would be weaker considering the current circumstances.'

My silent grin fades. 'What.'

Nesta's unearthly eyes turn to me. 'Something really strange is happening to your mate. Even my...untrained senses picked up on it.'

'What exactly do you mean?' I have to fight to keep my breathing even; fight to suppress the territorial instincts threatening to overpower logic.

'A shift in her scent,' her mouth turns to a wicked little grin. 'Something inside her is different.'

My fists clench against the spill of power from my siphons. It wasn't possible...

'Do you think she is sick?' Feyre asks her sister, glancing at me with concerned eyes.

A shrug. 'I don't know enough to tell but...' her grin fades. 'I don't think she's aware of it yet. You should hope she does before it turns to something worse.'

Why was Nesta even bothering to tell us this? 'I need to speak with you – alone.' I tell her.

Rhys gives me a look conveying that if anything were to happen to Nesta, despite how much he disliked her himself, there would be severe consequences. I didn't need to tell him that I would never harm a female.

After everyone spilled out of the room I turn to the window, unable to look at the female in front of me who had caused my mate so much pain. 'Did you tell me this to gloat? To remind me that I cannot be there for her when she needs me the most?'