Page 5 of With Wing And Claw
Thysandra had never heard a silence fall so abruptly.
Breaths caught and jaws sagged throughout the hall, even those who had been grinning in triumph two heartbeats ago – this was news, then,truenews, an announcement not even the kings and queens of the rebelling islands had been aware of beforehand. The alves around them had stiffened, too. Only Agenor smiled, and next to him, Allie was biting her lip with— Wait, was that—
Afang?
Good gods.
Everything was happening far, far too quickly.
‘More specifically,’ Emelin was saying at an immeasurable distance, ‘we will install the three courts as three independent administrative entities. All smaller fae isles may choose for themselves who they will ally with, in terms of taxation and infrastructure and such. The Golden Court will of course be in good hands with my dearest father over here …’
Agenor’s smile broadened into an uncharacteristically wide grin.
So he had known, hadn’t he? Thysandra risked closing her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of the meagre hints he’d given her during that short conversation in her cell. Perhaps he’d been trying to tell her she was welcome to move into the Golden Courtif she wished to? Which would mean leaving the Crimson Court behind, of course, the home she’d invested every single hour of her time in for the last four hundred years – but then again, if staying at the Crimson Court meant living under the rule of Creon fucking Hytherion …
‘And since I’m already losing my patience with this gods-forsaken place after spending half an hour in it,’ Emelin cheerfully continued, ‘Creon and I will be taking up residence at the Cobalt Court.’
Thysandra’s eyes flew open.
TheCobaltCourt?
Around her, the whispering among the gathered fae was growing into unmistakable muttering, and this time even the alves guarding them seemed too baffled to do much about it. The Cobalt Court was inruins. Who in the world would choose three crumbling walls and half a tower as their home for eternity? And more importantly …
If the two most powerful mages currently alive were not planning to stay here and keep an eye on the court the Mother had left behind, then who the hell would?
Who evencould?
‘As most of you appear to realise, that leaves the hellhole we’re presently standing in.’ Emelin’s gesture at the bone hall had the air of a vexed parent confronted with the room her child hadn’t cleaned in months; the look she exchanged with Creon was more than a little exasperated. ‘To tell you the truth, I strongly considered burning the whole court to the ground – but apparently you’ve got a nice library, and also, Zera told me to play nice whenever possible. So we’ll have to find someone else to take care of it.’
What in the world?
Thysandra couldn’t help but stare now, no matter how determined she’d been to stay far, far away from this mess – because even a twenty-something-year-old, almost-human peasant girl had to know this was an outrageously bad idea, didn’t she? Or at least Creon or Agenor must have warned her of the risks? Madness, to think any other fae ruler she might choose wouldn’t be rebelling within months or years – although that wasn’t Thysandra’s problem, of course, and all the more reason to keep her head down—
‘Thysandra?’ Emelin’s voice cut in.
It took her half a heartbeat to realise the sound of her name hadn’t merely existed in her own mind.
Another one to realise the rows of hand-cuffed fae had abruptly gone very, very quiet around her – no, that the entirehallhad gone quiet around her.
Hundreds and hundreds of bulging eyes, staring at her wherever she looked – as if she was some unexpected novelty they had never truly noticed before. As if she hadn’t wandered this court for four hundred years, as much a part of it as the hills and the hounds and the twisted trees of Faewood …
‘What?’ she managed to force out.
Too loud. The word echoed in the baffled silence.
‘The Crimson Court,’ Emelin said, her tone alarmingly sweet, her smile alarmingly wide. ‘You know it well, don’t you? I thought you might like to take over the management of it.’
Chapter 2
By the time shereached the place where the marble floor had cracked open, she no longer knew how she’d ever managed to move her feet.
Tared had unlocked the chains on her wrist without wasting a moment, then nudged her forward, out of the rows of fae and into full view of every mortal and immortal soul gathered in the hall. The audience had erupted in riotous clamour, a hundred shocked, stunned, furious conversations bouncing off the pockmarked walls and ceiling. Thysandra didn’t dare to look over her shoulder. Didn’t dare to look at the gaping hole in the floor either, which was now emanating an eerie red glow – as if even the Labyrinth below was sharing its opinions on this unexpected development, and unhappy opinions at that.
She kept her gaze trained on Emelin instead, for lack of a better alternative. Agenor’s daughter still hadn’t stopped smiling – that gods-damned honey-sweet smile that had once convinced even the Mother herself there was nothing dangerous or worrisome about her.
As if she had not just signed Thysandra’s death warrant.
As if she had not just outed her as a traitor to the rest of the world, and to what remained of the Mother’s most loyal following in particular.
Table of Contents
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