𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Eighty-Eight

"A small price to pay in comparison to the greater scheme."

My brows raised, gesturing around the room. "Are the lives that reside here not just as important as those on the continent?" I inquired, staring at the golden queen. "Is their agony not worth your pride?"

Rhys drawled from beside me, ever the voice of reason. "Surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent."

The older queen folded her withered hands on her lap. "Yes. To lose one life is always a horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we shall do it."

I understood their logic. To sacrifice one to save them all...I understood it when it was necessary. But they had the resources to save this land. Had the means to spare these people. The avoidable collateral damage that they were willingly sacrificing to spare them hard work.

I didn't dare look at my sisters. Look at this house that might very well be turned to rubble. "There are good people here." I reasoned, "They do not deserve to be caught in the terror of war."

The golden queen sweetly parried with. "Then let the High Fae of Prythian defend them."

Narrowing my gaze, I scoffed with raised brows. "What dedicated rulers, you are." my voice was dripping with sarcasm. A dig into their cowardice.

It was Nesta who hissed from behind us, taking a step forward. "We have servants here. With families. There are children in these lands. And you mean to leave us all in the hands of the Fae?"

The eldest's face softened, "It is no easy choice, girl—"

"It is the choice of cowards—" Nesta growled, her face contorting into wrath.

I was no diplomat with the temper I possessed. But even I knew my sister's words would only dig us further into this hole we sat in.

I questioned, clasping my hands in front of me, "For all that your kind hate us, you'd truly leave us to defend your people?"

"Shouldn't they?" The golden queen patronized. Her curly hair cascading to the side as she angled her head. "Shouldn't they defend against a threat of their own making?" A snort. "Should Fae blood not be spilled for their crimes over the years?"

Hot anger boiled in my chest, gathering and gathering like pouring water into a pot that was ready to spill over.

The soft brush against my mental shields was the only thing that kept me from spilling my rage across the queens.

"Neither side is innocent." Rhys countered calmly, a silent warning to his tone. "But we might protect those who are. Together."

"Oh?" Said the eldest. Her wrinkles deepened. "The High Lord of the Night Court asks us to join with him, save lives with him. To fight for peace. And what of the lives you have taken during your long, hideous existence. What of the High Lords who walks with darkness in his wake and shatters minds as he sees fit?" A crow's laugh. "We have heard of you, even on the continent, Rhysand. We have heard what the Night Court does, what you do to your enemies. Peace? For a male who melts minds and tortures for sport, I did not—"

A drop poured over the edge as she set her claims on Rhys. Insulted him. My anger was near unbearable.

Attack me all you like. I knew I deserved it.

I was a monster, after all.

But him?

Not a chance.