A Court of Shadows and Promises

Mortal Mistrust

Two days later, the mortal queens finally sent a response to Feyre's sisters. They would meet us at their home and under their conditions. They wanted a detailed layout of the home and who all would be present. That particular detail, Rhys and I were still arguing over.

For this meeting, he only wanted himself, Feyre, Az, Cass, and Mor to go. Despite my protests that it was nearly the whole of our court anyway, he hadn't budged. He didn't want to risk my presence with them. It would raise too many questions and they had enough protection from the two Illyrians.

It pissed me off, but I understood his reasoning. I was tired of sitting around and contributing nothing. Of doing nothing. The next morning they were preparing to leave, all of us gathered in the townhouse. Amren and I would wait here. To protect Velaris. The reminder was shoved into my head.

The glare I sent toward Rhys didn't bother him and he simply ignored it. The two Illyrians were dressed in their leathers, looking as intimidating as they should. Rhys, Feyre, and Mor were dressed in fine clothing. The former two both wearing crowns upon their heads. Mor needed no such trinket with her crimson gown, looking like a queen herself.

Well be back soon, Mor assured me, offering a small, confident smile as she breezed past, a hand resting on my shoulder briefly in comfort.

A single nod was all I answered with, watching as the group winnowed away at last. I sighed, moving to the sitting room and plopping into one of the seats. Amren followed me, quiet throughout their departure.

Her face was pale and hair slightly disheveled. She closed her eyes as she sat across from me as if she were ready to fall asleep right then. The others had said she had been working endlessly to decode the half of the book we already have.

I waited for a few moments, glancing at her nervously. Do you need anything? Have you eaten anything recently? Her eyes opened into slits as she focused her gaze on me.

"Are you insinuating that I look unwell?"

I shrugged, eyeing her warily, "You said it. You just seem tired. We can send for something if you'd like."

Her smoky silver eyes flared, either with approval or irritation, I couldn't tell. "I appreciate the concern, her voice was the kindest I had heard it since meeting the small female, but I shall be fine until the others return."

Nodding, I decided to not piss her off by questioning it. Whatever power she held was still a mystery to me and I hadn't bothered to dig too far into it. Now, my curiosity was at an all time high.

"You're Rhys second," I started slowly, "Obviously you have some form of a sizable power-"

"Let's hope that you never have to see it used, girl," she cut me off, a serpentine smile transforming her face.

Frowning, I replied, "Don't call me that."

Amren only cocked a brow, not challenging it. Namor had often called me that. It was condescending and I didn't care how old she was, she would not use that term with me.

The ominous words lingered between us and despite what she implied, I still wanted to know what she could do. Even Mor's power was a mystery to me. She had never deigned to explain, and I had yet to witness it.

Of course, I had heard that some of the females on my uncle's side had passed down a great power. Many trembled before it. It had been kept secret purposely, which had always frustrated me. I assumed Rhys knew since he had made Mor his third. The only thing they ever said when it was brought up was that she held the power of truth. What did that even mean?

The two of us were mostly quiet while we waited. Amren indulged a few of my questions about herself but didn't go into great detail. It had been a little over an hour before they returned. All of their faces were drawn as they filtered into the house.