A Court of Bastards [ACOTAR]

Chapter 36

Flying over the Illyrian Steppes was like soaring among the strokes of an oil painting. The sun bathed the bald rocky peaks in buttery light above sprawling pine forests that seemed to stretch on into eternity, an endless green wave cresting the hills like some living, emerald ocean. Though it looked majestic, Fiona had heard all too many tales of Illyria not to imagine the beasts that lurked beneath, weaving between the shadows of the pines below them even now.

Bella held her tight as they flew, and though it was a long journey, Fiona knew her friend better than to expect to see any sign of weary when they landed, even if her wings had been beating for two bodies. Belladonna was daughter of the Lord General and the Lady of Death - there was no burden too heavy, and no quest that could tire her.

They set off late in the morning to arrive just after noon, after a somewhat terse court meeting to debrief on the events that had transpired in the Hewn City the night before. It hadn't taken long to relay what Eris had said - and what he'd left unsaid - to those who hadn't been there. Rhys had asked whether Fiona had detected any deceit from her uncle and she'd given him the truth; that though he'd taken offence to the High Lord's interrogation, she was sure he had told no lie. He was not entertaining any friendship with Keir, even if he had threatened to by the end.

Though she had been surprised when Feyre and her sisters had seemed largely unbothered by news of Eris storming out. Other than Rhysand, who seemed to spend all his time toiling in worry these days, only Amren appeared to be at all concerned.

"At a time when the Night Court has more enemies than friends..." the silver-eyed female had mused, running a long, painted finger around the rim of a glass filled with thick, dark liquid. Fiona hadn't dare to ask the nature of its contents. "What does that mean?" Amren's stern brow puckered with a frown. "What could he have been trying to say?"

"Empty threats," Nyx had answered with a scoff. "That slippery fox had his ego checked and he didn't like it. So, he wanted to scare us."

"And what of Fiona?" Rhysand looked troubled, running a hand through his hair and toying with the strands. "Clearly he still thinks we have her. And he claims that our darling steward has been whispering to Kallias and Vivienne, inventing some farce about her and Xander."

"Not much need to invent." Bella whispered in Fiona's ear, much to her embarrassment.

But Nyx had dismissed this point too, scattering his father's worries like ashes in the wind. "When has Keir not been a gossip?" He took his feet down from the chair they'd been resting on, gaze flitting between both his parents. "I don't think anything Eris said was particularly consequential. His mind is still set on Fiona, yes, but we didn't give him any reason to think she might be here. And even if we had - as we've said a thousand times before, he won't go to war for a bastard niece."

At this, Fiona had shifted uncomfortably on the kitchen tiles as a few of the gathered courtiers glanced to her awkwardly. It was a harsh way to put it, but it was true. Though the fact didn't make it any simpler to shake her unease as Fiona landed at the Western war band camp with Bella and Xander that day.

Though muddier and less visually impressive than she'd been expecting, the camp was crawling with some seriously impressive specimens. To Fiona it was a wonder to see so many Illyrians gathered in one place, each with a set of dark, imperial wings that shone with the faintest hints of red and gold in the weak spring sunshine. 

While Fiona was still staring at them all - and they at her - the general's daughter disappeared to speak to various warband officials, following up on Emerie's reports of unrest. Before long she was left alone with Xander, who beckoned her towards the forest and remained silent as ever when she beseeched him as to why.