A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 74: Three Things

Lucien takes a steadying breath and not one person in this place could blame him. Though she knew it was play, knew that it was expected of him, the little smirk that Rhysand wore sparked a bit of heat inside Galadriel. He knows what Lucien means to me, she reminded herself. He wouldn't do anything.

"It is peace he desires," Lucien said, voice regaining a bit of its charm. Galadriel glanced at Beron, but the High Lord of Autumn refused to look at his son. Amoise had not yet been pulled from her court. Neither had Helion. "Tamlin respects your command here Under the Mount—"

"Prythian," Amarantha corrected sharply. "I command Prythian."

"He respects your command," Lucien went on. "As his emissary, I am here to negotiate terms of peace between us so that Spring may live in harmony with your realm."

Amarantha's smile was dangerous. "I don't think Spring has come to understand that it is not independent from me. It does not get to vie for peace with me as though we stand side by side. It is mine, and so is Tamlin." A daunting calmness claimed her voice, as though she was not being rejected in front of her entire court. Galadriel had yet to figure out whether it was truly some sick sort of love she held for Tamlin or something else that even Rhys hadn't figured out yet. "I've let Tamlin have too long off his leash. Tell him that he is to return at once."

Lucien's face twisted in anger. "He is not a beast to be chained!"

Amarantha's composure cracked, but Rhysand leant forward and said, "Funny. I thought a beast was exactly what he is. With horns and fur, if my memory serves me currently. I'd very much like to saw them off and hang them in my bedroom if he's not willing to comply." There wasn't a lie in that, but the cruelty hewn into those words were unfamiliar enough that Galadriel could barely register that it was Rhysand speaking. A few faeries cheered in agreeance.

But as his eyes flitted over her and then to Amarantha, she understood. A distraction. A shield that diverted the blow of Amarantha's temper.

Lucien's gaze lingered on Rhysand for a moment too long, as if he was reading something on Rhys's paling skin. "He does not wish for this fight," he said, almost pleading to Amarantha.

The queen looked down at her nails. "He does not wish for me."

So softly that Galadriel almost missed it, he said, "He does not love you."

At once, the head table disappeared. Rhysand didn't react but a few of the faeries around him shirked. In three mighty strides, Amarantha glided down the stairs, her black dress like thick oil around her legs. Before Lucien could react, she raised her arm and brought those metal nails across his face.

Lucien's scream bounced off the stone walls and Galadriel's knees wavered, her heart lurching as it echoed his agony. He fell to his knees, blood sprayed across the floor in droplets of dark ruby. The hall had gone silent again, his moans as he held his palm to his eye drowning out the hammering of her own heart. Even Rhysand, usually empty-faced, looked startled.

Once of Lucien's brothers stood, palms flat on the table. "He deserved it."

Amarantha stared down at Lucien. "Take him out of my sight. Let him return to Tamlin. Hopefully he'll get the message."

Still groaning, blood pouring from between his fingers, the Attor seized the back of Lucien's jacket and dragged him through the hall, feet trailing behind him. A few minutes passed before people began to eat and talk again, Galadriel unable to command her feet, eyes glued to the puddle of blood near the foot of the dais. It was only when two of Beron's sons stood, leaving the hall discreetly as they could, that she moved.