DISCONTINUED A Court Of Blood And Night (Tog & ACOTAR crossover)

14 - Rowan

Meanwhile, Tamlin and Lucien stiffly grabbed a few things before drawing away from the others like they were ill with some plague. Gods, this rift between the two Courts would be the death of them all.

Rowan noted that they all checked their food and water for anything incriminating, and upon finding nothing, finally took to eating. Elain and Nesta had just watched the others silently, not seeming to know how to check for poison. He stored the odd observation aside for later.

Once they had something in their stomachs, they all seemed at least slightly better-tempered-- all but Amren, who hadn't taken anything at all.

"Is there a reason you refuse to eat, Amren?" Ansel drawled, raising an eyebrow.

Amren simply said, "I don't eat your kind of food."

Rowan glanced around him to find nearly everyone except for Manon, Amren, and most of the Night Court looked slightly uncomfortable. The cold air warmed for a moment, then chilled again-- testament to Dorian's own surprise.

"Then what do you eat?" Aedion queried.

Amren's smile proved to make everyone uneasy, including some of her Court. She stared Aedion down for a long time, then finally said, "Give me some blood and you might find me in a better mood."

She was unnervingly similar to Manon, Rowan reflected. He sent a suddenly pale servant, who'd been listening in from the edge of the room, to find something for her, and she scurried off quickly.

"May we continue with introductions?" Lysandra asked almost impatiently after a moment of silence. "There's no reason to be cowering here in silence, waiting for the servant to return."

"Alright," Rhysand agreed. He turned to look at the others and they all nodded, exchanging glances.

Mor spoke first. "I'm third-in-command of the Night Court," she said with something like pride in her brown eyes. "Amren's second-in-command."

He expected Amren to glare at Mor for speaking for her, but the female only grunted in agreement, looking moody. Mor went on.

"Cassian is the army's general, and Azriel is our Shadowsinger-- you might know the position by the name of 'spy.'" Indeed, the shadows around Azriel seemed to follow him wherever he went, and Rowan briefly wondered if he could manipulate them.

Mor's voice dipped a little. "Nesta and Elain are a bit new to the Court. It will be a while before we find suitable jobs for them. Though," she said with a kind smile, "Elain is well on her way to becoming a gardener."

Careful words. They had truth in them for certain, but there was enough left out that Rowan knew he wouldn't learn much of their abilities.

"As you know, Rhys is High Lord of the Night Court, which is practically the equivalent of a King." Rhysand-- or Rhys, as Mor called him-- nodded once, and Rowan was taken aback by thr comfortable informality of  his Court. "And Feyre is High Lady." The tattooed woman glanced and Rhysand and smiled at him.

High Lady-- like a Queen. Rowan felt a bit cold and it had nothing to do with the temperature that had dropped enough that he could see the vapor of his breath. Was the Night Court left completely undefended, now that their rulers were missing? And what about Tamlin? Did he have a High Lady to look after his Court? Rowan suddenly understood why Dorian was angry.

He was angry because their Courts were left without anyone to rule them. Just like Adarlan.

Tamlin snorted. "Never mind the fact that there's no such thing as a High Lady." He spoke of the title with enough contempt that Rowan knew that no, he did not have a High Lady to look after things.

Rhysand smiled at Tamlin, and it wasn't a kind smile. He reached for Feyre's hand and clasped it in his own, and he looked at her, smile softening. "I suppose it's a good thing I corrected that, then."

Watching them felt like a punch to the gut.

"Introductions have been properly made, then," Galan said, looking around the room. It would probably have sounded cheerful if he hadn't looked at Lysandra. Most of the people in this room were unhappy with her-- but why blame Lysandra for doing what Aelin asked of her?

"On our side," Nesta pointed out testily. "Are you all going to leave us in the dark?" She leaned forward, blue eyes colder than ice, and her voice dropped lower. "A little rude, don't you think?" Considering what they had promised.

Aedion nodded. "Fair point," he agreed, and, before anyone could protest, introduced himself and added, "I'm part of the Queen's court." He failed to add he was her cousin, and Rowan knew why. Smart, to not let them realize how important they really were to the Queen. To Terrasen.

Ansel sighed. "And now we all have to introduce ourselves," she grumbled, the lilt in her voice more pronounced in her irritation. "Ansel. Queen of the Western Wastes." She probably would have looked a bit prideful about it if Manon hadn't laughed lowly. Instead, she paled, glancing at the Ironteeth witch with no lack of caution.

"Manon," Rowan warned quietly, and the golden-eyed witch glared at him. He held back a shudder, forcing himself to stay calm under her gaze, and was glad when Dorian laid a hand on her shoulder gently. As angry as he was with Rowan, the King wasn't about to let Manon kill him, and Rowan was thankful.

Until Dorian said, "If you're going to kill him, Manon, don't do it in front of our guests."

Yeah, Dorian's pissed! Can you tell?