ACOTAR (Rhysand's POV)

Chapter 1

The start of fire night wasn't too far away. Knowing Amarantha, she must have something horrid planned for me. I managed to convince her to let me "keep an eye" on the Spring Court, allowing me a night's access to freedom. Of course this was all a ruse- I had to see her. Night after night of seeing through her dreams is torturous. I have to know her. Albeit not wise, there had to be a way.

Tamlin wouldn't let me get close to her, especially with the position I'm in. Us already having bad blood didn't help the situation either. But if he was distracted, and I knew he would be, I could come close. Just to see, just to hear her voice out loud for once. The grounds would be empty, all servants and high fae at the festivities. I could slip in unnoticed and just take a peak...No. Too risky. What about through the window? That couldn't sound more unattractive, imagine being caught. All chance of anything would die right there with my pride. But I would go. If only for the small chance to glimpse or hear another speak of her. Until then, I had the small spurts of dreams, a hummed melody, or an intrusive thought to hold me over.

Nuala and Cerridwen brought my breakfast and swiftly left. They knew waking was harder for me. Truthfully it was all hard, but it took significant effort to apply that mask each morning- the mask of the High Lord turned whore. So I ate my pastry in the silence of the room and, unfortunately, my mind. Footsteps began to fade in and out through the hall signifying the start of another day. Shoving the last bit of pastry in my mouth, I stand and begin to dress - black pants and a black dress shirt with threads of silver. I had no desire to dress even remotely well, but the facade had to stand. Pulling on each layer and exhausting myself already, I take a step back in front of the mirror. Without looking up enough to meet my own eyes, I turn and leave the room.

Amarantha nursed her headache atop her throne. Her right hand holding the weight of her head and a glass of, what one could assume was more wine, in the other, One could almost take pity on the sight, almost. While few court members strode back and forth with attempts to pamper her, Amarantha continually waved them away with a low grunt. Raising my voice more than usual, I offered Amarantha an emotionless greeting.
" Morning." Her head lifting and body jolting at the sound. She narrows her eyes towards me, another low grunt, and her head returns to her hand. I took my place aside the dias and waited for it to begin.

"We have two today my Lady." A creature of filth, the Attor, spoke in a nasally tone. Another grunt in response, only the beckoning of her hand to signal them in. Two female fae are escorted into the throne room. They must have spent the last night in the dungeon cells by how they looked...and smelled. Their eyes were ghostly with fear and their bodies trembled as they were dragged along the cold marble floor. Amarantha finally lifted her head and rested it back on the throne, her chin and nose raised high.

Without so much as glancing down she spoke, "You have two options," she paused for emphasis, "to tell me the truth, or lie and be forced to tell the truth." Her gaze still remained high as she awaited their response.

"We don't know-" one of them began to say, but Amarantha simply held her hand high and waved to the Attor. His long bony fingers gripped into the females tighter, fingernails almost piercing skin. Sobs began to break from their chests as they were dragged up to the foot of the dias. Amarantha stood, finally allowing her gaze to sweep over the two fae at her feet. Their heads were down and the brown and blonde of their hair mixed together on the floor. Seeming almost bored, Amarantha raised the females up and up until they were hovering above our heads. Surprisingly, neither fae made a sound. Their eyes were locked in horror with mouths agape and I realized Amarantha had a hold on their throats as well. Without another word, a second chance, or a moment to be able to get in their minds, the females were thrusted down as fast as they could go. Their heads met the marble with a crack. A knot formed in my gut. I should have acted faster, I could have taken their pain. I didn't know if my anger or guilt was stronger.

The rest of the morning played out similarly. With Tamlins deadline drawing near, interrogations such as these became more frequent and her impatience growing thin. This was another reason Amanrantha would be allowing my absence for Fire Night - to survey Tamlin and his court, specifically the females. I had stock in both outcomes. If Tamlin did not succeed, I would be relieved of my duties here, Tamlin then taking the role. But then what would happen to her? It would be devastating for her to endure and still left me with no chance of my own. If Tamlin did succeed then, well, she would be happy at least. I would still be here, but maybe I could catch glimpses such as I might in a few days. My chest ached at the thought.

The Attor dragged the female faes from the room, neither responding. I should have done something. My eyes began to burn and I swallowed it down.
"Rhysand." It wasn't an inquiry. I knew what Amarantha wanted. She rose from her throne and walked past, heading for her chambers. The small crowd that gathered began to snicker. I followed in her wake, keeping my gaze ahead.