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“She plucked another figurine from the mantle: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. 'He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.' 'Did he ever make any for you?' 'He knew better than to do that.' She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. 'I think he would have, if I'd given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but... I never did. I was too angry.' 'You'd have your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.' 'That's not what you told me the first time we met.' She pivoted to find him arching a brow. 'You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.' 'I didn't say it like that.' 'The message was the same.' She squared her shoulders, turning to the small broken cot in the shadows beside the fireplace. 'And you were right.”

MemoriesAngrySarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesDaddy IssuesFacing The PastPiece Of Shit
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“My father slept here for years, letting us have the bedroom. That bed in there... I was born in that bed. My mother died in that bed. I hate that bed.' She ran a hand over the cracking wood of the cot's frame. Splinters snagged at her fingertips. 'But I hate this cot even more. He'd drag it in front of the fire every night and curl up there, huddling under the blankets. I always thought he looked so... so weak. Like a cowering animal. It enraged me. 'Does it enrage you now?' A casual, but careful question. 'It...' Her throat worked. 'I thought him sleeping here was a fitting punishment while we got the bed. It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could. That we'd only been able to take a few items of furniture from our former home and he'd chosen the bed as one of them. For our comfort. So we didn't have to sleep on cots, or on the floor.' She rubbed at her chest. 'I wouldn't even let him sleep in the bed when the debtors shattered his leg. I was so lost in my grief and rage and... and sorrow, that I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I did.' Her stomach churned. He squeezed her shoulder, but said nothing. 'He had to have known that,' she said hoarsely. 'He had to have known how awful I was, and yet... he never yelled. That enraged me, too. And then he named a ship after me. Sailed it into battle. I just... I can't understand why.' 'You were his daughter.' 'And that's an explanation?' She scanned his face, the sadness etched there. Sadness- for her. For the ache in her chest and the stinging in her eyes. 'Love is complicated.”

LoveAngerComplicatedSarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesDaddy IssuesFather Archeron
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“Once the wrenching, gaping sounds came out of her, Nesta knew she could not stop. She knelt on the shore of that mountain lake and let go entirely. She allowed every horrible thought to hit her, wash through her. Let herself see Feyre's pale, devastated face as Nesta had revealed the truth, as she'd let her own anger and pain ride her. She could never outlive it, her guilt. There was no point in trying. She sobbed into the darkness of her hands. And then the stones clicked, and a warm, steady presence appeared beside her. He didn't touch her, but his voice was nearby as he said, 'I'm here.' She sobbed harder at that. She couldn't stop. As if a dam had burst and only letting the water run its course, raging through her, would suffice. 'Nesta.' His fingers grazed her shoulder. She couldn't bear that touch. The kindness in it. 'Please,' she said. Her first word in five days. He stilled. 'Please what?' She leaned from him. 'Don't touch me. Don't- don't be kind to me.' The words were a sobbing, rippling jumble. 'Why?' The list of reasons surged, fighting to get out, to voice themselves, and she let them decide. Let them flow through her, as she whispered, 'I let him die.' He went quiet. Through her hands on her face, she continued to whisper. 'He came to save me, and fought for me, and I let him die with hate in my heart. Hate for him. He died because I didn't stop it.' Her voice broke, and she wept harder. 'And I was so horrid to him, until the very end. I was so, so horrid to him all my life- and still he somehow loved me. I didn't deserve it, but he did. And I let him die.' She bowed over her knees, saying into her palms, 'I can't undo it. I can't fix it. I can't fix that he is dead, I can't fix what I said to Feyre, I can't fix any of the horrible things I've done. I can't fix me.' She sobbed so hard she thought her body would break with it. Wanted her body to come apart like a cracked egg, wanted what was left of her soul to drift away on the mountain wind. She whispered, 'I can't bear it.' Cassian said quietly, 'It isn't your fault.' She shook her head, face still in her hands, as if it'd shield her from him, but he said, 'Your father's death is not your fault. I was there, Nesta. I looked for a way out of it, too. And there was nothing that could have been done.' 'I could have used my power. I could have tried-' 'Nesta.' Her name was a sigh- as if he were pained. Then his arms were around her, and she was being pulled into his lap. She didn't fight it, not as he tucked her against his chest. Into his strength and warmth. 'I could have found a way. I should have found a way.' His hand began stroking her hair. Her entire body, right down to her bones, trembled.”

GuiltSarah J MaasCryingCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesSobbingBreak DownRemorseful
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“My father only gazed at my sister. Ignored the monster behind him and said to her, 'I loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms. And I am... I am so sorry, Nesta- my Nesta. I am so sorry, for all of it.' 'Please,' Nesta said to the king. Her only word, guttural and hoarse. 'Please.”

LovePleaseSorrySarah J MaasNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Wings And RuinFather And DaughterFather ArcheronAbout To Die
Book:A Court of Wings and Ruin
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“Perhaps the future did not need to be planned- she could just take it one day at a time. As long as she had Cassian at her side, her friends with her, she could do it. Face it. They wouldn't let her fall back into that pit. Cassian would never let her fall again. But if she did fall... he'd be waiting for her at the top again. Hand outstretched. She didn't deserve it, but she'd endeavour to be worthy of him.”

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“I doubted the stone and iron of the building could hold any of us, certainly not together, but... Letting them shut us in here to wait... It rubbed against some nerve. Made my body restless, a cold sweat breaking out. Too small, not enough air... It's all right, Rhys soothed. This place cannot hold you. I nodded, though he hadn't spoken, trying to swallow the feeling of the walls and ceiling pushing on me. Nesta was watching me carefully. I admitted to her, 'Sometimes... I have problems with small spaces.' Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, 'I can't get into a bathtub anymore. I have to use buckets.' I hadn't known- hadn't even thought that bathing, submerging in water... I knew better than to touch her hand. But I said, 'When we get home, we'll install something else for you.' I could have sworn there was gratitude in her eyes- that she might have said something else when horses approached.”

TraumaSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Wings And RuinClaustrophobia
Book:A Court of Wings and Ruin
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“Cassian asked, 'What stair did you make it to?' 'One hundred eleven.' Nesta didn't rise. 'Pathetic.' Her fingers pushed into the floor, but her body didn't move. 'This stupid House wouldn't give me wine.' 'I figured that would be the only motivator to make you risk ten thousand stairs.' Her fingers dug into the stone floor once more. He threw her a crooked smile, glad for the distraction. 'You can't get up, can you?' Her arms strained, elbows buckling. 'Go fly into a boulder.' Cassian pushed off the wall and reached her in three strides. He wrapped his hands under her arms and hauled her up. She scowled at him the entire time. Glared at him some more when she swayed and he gripped her tighter, keeping her upright. 'I knew you were out of shape,' he observed, stepping away when she'd proved she wasn't about to collapse, 'but a hundred steps? Really?' 'Two hundred, counting the ones up,' she grumbled. 'Still pathetic.' She straightened her spine and raised her chin. Keep reaching out your hand. Cassian shrugged, turning toward the hall and the stairwell that would take him up to his rooms. 'If you get tired of being weak as a mewling kitten, come to training.' He glanced over a shoulder. Nesta still panted, her face flushed and furious. 'And participate.”

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Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“The House had a taste for romance novels. Nesta stayed up later than she should have to finish the one it had left the day before, and when she returned to her room that evening, another was waiting. 'Don't tell me you somehow read these?' She leafed through the volume on her nightstand. In answer, two more books thumped on the surface. Each one utterly filthy. Nesta let out a small chuckle. 'It must get awfully dull up here.' A third book plopped atop the others. Nesta laughed again, a rusty, hoarse sound. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed. A true, belly-deep laugh. Maybe before her mother had died. She'd certainly had nothing to laugh about once they'd fallen into poverty. Nesta nodded toward the desk. 'No dinner tonight?' Her bedroom door only swung open to reveal the dimly lit hallway. 'I've had enough of him for one day.' She'd barely been able to speak to Cassian for the rest of their lesson, unable to stop thinking of how he'd put up a wall without her so much as saying a word, anticipating that she would go after him, assuming that she was so awful she couldn't have a normal conversation. That she'd mock him about his mother and their pain. 'I'd rather stay here.' The door opened wider. Nesta sighed. Her stomach ached with hunger. 'You're as much a busybody as the rest of them,' she muttered, and aimed for the dining room.”

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“I've made my thoughts clear enough on what I want from you.' He'd never met someone able to imply so much in so few words, in placing so much emphasis on you as to make it an outright insult. Cassian clenched his jaw. And didn't bother to restrain himself when he said, 'I'm tired of playing these bullshit games.' She kept her chin high, the portrait of queenly arrogance. 'I'm not.' 'Well, everyone else is. Perhaps you can find it in yourself to try a little harder this year.' Those striking eyes slid toward him, and it was an effort to stand his ground. 'Try?' 'I know that's a foreign word to you.' Nesta stopped at the bottom of the street, right along the icy Sidra. 'Why should I have to try to do anything?' Her teeth flashed. 'I was dragged into this world of yours, this court.' 'Then go somewhere else.' Her mouth formed a tight line at the challenge. 'Perhaps I will.' But he knew there was no other place to go. Not when she had no money, no family beyond this territory. 'Be sure to write.' She launched into a walk again, keeping along the river's edge. Cassian followed, hating himself for it. 'You could at least come live at the House,' he began, and she whirled on him. 'Stop,' she snarled. He halted in his tracks, wings spreading slightly to balance him. 'Stop following me. Stop trying to haul me into your happy little circle. Stop doing all of it.' He knew a wounded animal when he saw one. Knew the teeth they could bare, the viciousness they displayed. But it couldn't keep him from saying, 'Your sisters love you. I can't for the live of me understand why, but they do. If you can't be bothered to try for my happy little circle's sake, then at least try for them.' A void seemed to enter those eyes. An endless, depthless void. She only said, 'Go home, Cassian.' He could count on one hand the number of times she'd used his name. Called him anything other than you or that one. She turned away- toward her apartment, her grimy part of the city. It was instinct to lunge for her free hand. Her gloved fingers scraped against his calluses, but he held firm. 'Talk to me, Nesta. Tell me-' She ripped her hand out of his grip. Stared him down. A mighty vengeful queen. He waited, panting, for the verbal lashing to begin. For her to shred him into ribbons. But Nesta only stared at him, her nose crinkling. Stared, then snorted- and walked away. As if he were nothing. As if he weren't worth her time. The effort. A low-born Illyrian bastard. This time, when she continued onward, Cassian didn't follow. He watched her until she was a shadow against the darkness- and then she vanished completely. He remained staring after her, that present in his hands. Cassian's fingertips dug into the soft wood of the small box. He was grateful the streets were empty when he hurled the box into the Sidra. Hurled it hard enough that the splash echoed off the buildings flanking the river, ice cracking from the impact. Ice instantly re-formed over the hole he'd blown over. As if it, and the present, had never been.”

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Book:A Court of Frost and Starlight
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“I like your sister.' One of the few. Amren lifted her eyes to me as if I'd said the words aloud. 'I like her because so few do. I like her because she is not easy to be around, or to understand.' 'But?' 'But nothing,' Amren said, returning to the puzzle. 'Because I like her, I am not inclined to gossip about her current state. 'It's not gossip. I'm concerned.'' We all were. 'She is starting down a path that-' 'I will not betray her confidence.”

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“Emerie had drifted a few feet away, her back straight, chin upraised. He'd seen Nesta in this particular pose, too. He called it her I Will Slay My Enemies post. Cassian had named about two dozen poses for Nesta at this point. Ranging from I Will Eat Your Eyes for Breakfast to I Don't Want Cassian to Know I'm Reading Smut. The latter was his particular favourite.”

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Book:A Court of Frost and Starlight
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“I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don't know. I don't really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn't... I might have become as awful as that prick we're going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training," he said to Cassian, "I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honor and loyalty." Cassian's eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, "If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair." Azriel bowed his head in thanks. Mor was already crying when Rhys spoke to her. "If I had not met my cousin, I would neer have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kidness can thrive even amongst cruelty." She wiped away her teas as she nodded. I waited for Amren to offer a retort. But she was only waiting. Rhys bowed his head to her. "If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake..." A quite laugh from all of us at that. Rhys smiled softly. "My own power would have consumed me long ago." Rhys squeezed my hand as he looked to me at last. "And if I had not met my mate..." His words failed him as silver lined his eyes. He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have... The wait was worth it. He wiped away the tears sliding down my face. "I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to... so I could find you." He kissed another tear away.”

Sarah J MaasFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysCassianNestaAzrielMorAmrenElainAcowarMorrigan
Book:A Court of Wings and Ruin
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“Sadistic monsters,' Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders. 'We try again tomorrow,' Emerie swore, sporting a black eye thanks tot the swinging log that had knocked her on her ass before Nesta could grab her. 'We keep trying until we wipe that smug look off their stupid perfect faces. Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. 'See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,' she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. 'You have no idea what you just started,' she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. 'Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?' Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. 'You're the new ribbon, Az.”

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Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“Sadistic monsters,' Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders. 'We try again tomorrow,' Emerie swore, sporting a black eye thanks to the swinging log that had knocked her on her ass before Nesta could grab her. 'We keep trying until we wipe that smug look off their stupid perfect faces. Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. 'See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,' she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. 'You have no idea what you just started,' she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. 'Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?' Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. 'You're the new ribbon, Az.”

FunnySarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesAzrielGwynGwyneth BerdaraEmerie
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“Steps scuffed down the hall. A warning. From someone who knew how to remain silent. ... Cassian had just finished setting himself to rights when Azriel strode in. 'Good evening,' his brother said with a grating level of calm, striding toward the table. 'Az.' Cassian wasn't able to keep the bite out of his tone. He met his brother's too-aware stare and silently conveyed every bit of annoyance he felt at his timing. Azriel only shrugged, surveying the food the House had brought him. As if he knew exactly what he'd interrupted and took his chaperone duties very seriously. Nesta was watching them, but as soon as Cassian turned to her, she launched into movement, pushing off the table and aiming for the door. 'Good night.' She didn't wait for him to respond before she was gone. Cassian levelled a glare at Az. 'Thanks for that.' 'I don't know what you're talking about,' Az said, even as he smiled down at his food. 'Asshole.' Az chuckled. 'Don't show your hand all at once, Cass.' 'What's that supposed to mean?' Az nodded toward the doorway. 'Save something for later.' 'Busybody.”

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“Azriel nodded at her. 'What happened to you?' She knew what he meant: the black eye that was finally fading. Her hands and chin had healed, along with the bruising on her body, but the black eye had turned greenish. By tomorrow morning, it'd be gone entirely. 'Nothing,' she said without looking at Cassian. 'She fell down the stairs,' Cassian said, not looking at her, either. Azriel's silence was pointed before he asked, 'Did someone... push you?' 'Asshole,' Cassian growled. Nesta lifted her eyes from her plate enough to note the amusement in Azriel's gaze, even though no smile graced his sensuous mouth. Cassian went on, 'I told her earlier today: if she'd bother to train, she'd at least have bragging rights for the bruises.”

FunnySarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesAzrielAccusingWhat HappenedBlack Eye
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“Why aren't you training, Nesta?' 'I don't want to.' 'Why not?' Cassian muttered, 'Don't waste your breath, Az.' She glared at him. 'I'm not training in that miserable village.' Cassian glared right back. 'You've been given an order. You know the consequences. If you don't get off that fucking rock by the end of the week, what happens next is out of my hands.' 'So you'll tattle to your precious High Lord?' she crooned. 'Big, tough warrior needs oh-so-powerful Rhysand to fight his battles?' 'Don't you talk about Rhys with that tone,' Cassian snarled. 'Rhys is an asshole,' Nesta snapped. 'He is an arrogant, preening asshole.' Azriel sat back in his seat, eyes simmering with anger, but said nothing. 'That's bullshit,' Cassian spat, the Siphons on the backs of his hands burning like ruby flames. 'You know that's bullshit, Nesta.' 'I hate him,' she seethed. 'Good. He hates you, too,' Cassian shot back. 'Everyone fucking hates you. Is that what you want? Because congratulations, it's happened.' Azriel let out a long, long breath. Cassian's words pelted her, one after another. Hit her somewhere low and soft, and hit hard. Her fingers curled into claws, scraping along the table as she flung back at him, 'And I suppose now you'll tell me that you are the only person who doesn't hate me, and I'm supposed to feel something like gratitude, and agree with you?' 'Now I tell you I'm done.' The words rumbled between them. Nesta blinked, the only sign of her surprise. Azriel tensed, surprised as well. But she sliced into Cassian before he could go on. 'Does that mean you're done panting after me as well? Because what a relief that will be, to know you've finally taken the hint.' Cassian's muscled chest heaved, his throat working. 'You want to rip yourself apart, go right ahead. Implode all you like.' He stood, meal half-finished. 'The training was supposed to help you. Not punish you. I don't know why you don't fucking get that.' 'I told you: I'm not training in that miserable village.' 'Fine.' Cassian stalked out, his pounding steps fading down the hall. Alone with Azriel, Nesta bared her teeth at him. Azriel watched her with that cool quiet, keeping utterly still. Like he saw everything in her head. Her bruised heart. She couldn't bear it. So she stood, only two bites taken from her food, and left the room as well.”

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Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“I went into her nightmare,' Rhys peered up at Cassian. 'Why didn't you tell me you attempted a scrying today?' 'It didn't work.' And Nesta's fear and guilt had been so heavy in the room that his chest had ached. He'd left her alone afterward knowing she'd want privacy. Rhys let out a shuddering breath. 'The scrying was a trip wire. For the memories. I caught that as I went in.' His throat worked, as if he'd heave, but he held it odnw. 'She was dreaming of the Cauldron. Of... of when she went in.' Cassian had never seen Rhys at such a loss for words. 'I saw it,' Rhys whispered. 'Felt it. Everything that happened within the Cauldron. Saw her take its power with her teeth and claws and rage. And I saw... felt... what it took from her.' Rhys rubbed his face and slowly straightened. He met Cassian's stare unflinchingly, his eyes full of remorse and agony. 'Her trauma is...' Rhys's throat bobbed. 'I know,' Cassian whispered. 'I guessed,' Rhys breathed, 'but it was different to feel it.' 'What is her power?' Azriel asked. 'Death,' Rhys whispered, hands trembling again as he got to his feet and aimed toward the window, which was now repairing itself shard by shard, as if a careful, patient hand worked upon it. He gazed at the female sleeping in the bed, and fear clouded the face of the High Lord of the Night Court. 'Pure death.”

TraumaSarah J MaasRhysandRhysCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesAzrielShaken Up
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“But then grey, watery light hit her. And the air- the air was heavy, full of slow-running water and mould and loamy earth. No wind moved around them; not even a breeze. Cassian whistled. 'Look at this hellhole.' Dropping Azriel's hand. Nesta did just that. Oorid stretched before them. She had never seen a place so dead. A place that made the still-human part of her recoil, whispering that it was wrong wrong wrong to be here. Azriel winced. The shadowsinger of the Night Court winced as the full brunt of Oorid's oppressive air and scent and stillness hit him. The three of them surveyed the wasteland. Even the Cauldron's water hadn't been so solidly black as the water here, as if it were made of ink. In the shallows mere feet away, where the water met the grass, not one blade was visible where the surface touched it. Dead trees, grey with age and weather, jutted like the broken lances of a thousand soldiers, some draped with curtains of moss. No leaves clung to their branches. Most of the branches had been cracked off, leaving jagged spears extending from the trunks. 'Not one insect,' Azriel observed. 'Not one bird.' Nesta strained to listen. Only silence answered. Empty of even a whistle of a breeze.”

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“Cassian said it might be... good if I came.' Elain's eyes flickered. 'Did Feyre pay you, like last year?' 'No.' Shame washed through her. Elain sighed, glancing over Nesta's shoulder to the open doorway across the entry. The party within, only for their small inner circle. 'Please don't upset Feyre. It's her birthday, first of all. And in her state-' 'Oh, fuck you,' Nesta snapped, and then choked. Elain blinked. Nesta blinked back, horror lurching through her. And then Elain burst out laughing. Howling, half-sobbing laughs that sent her bending over at the waist, gasping for breath. Nesta just stared, torn between questions and wanting to throw herself into the icy Sidra. 'I- I'm so sorry-' Elain held up a hand, wiping her eyes with the other. 'You've never said such a thing to me!' She laughed again. 'I think that's a good sign, isn't it?' Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm through Nesta's and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he'd heard Elain's sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.”

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“I want to train with him instead.' She could have sworn Cassian went still. Interesting. Azriel coughed into his tea. Cassian drummed his fingers on the table. 'I think you'll find that Az is even less forgiving that I am.' 'With that pretty face?' she crooned. 'I have a hard time believing that.' Azriel ducked his head, focusing on his food. 'You want to train with Az,' Cassian said tightly. 'then go ahead.' He appeared thoughtful for a moment, his eyes lighting before he added, 'Though I doubt that you'll survive a lesson with him, when you can't manage to walk down a hundred stairs without being so sore the next morning that you're unable to get out of your chair.”

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“You're going to make me look like that?' His low laugh rippled over her body. 'No one can look like this but me, Nes.' Arrogant ass. 'Rhysand and Azriel do,' she said sweetly. 'I've got one or two muscles on them.' 'I don't see it.' He winked. 'Maybe they're in other places.' She couldn't help it. Couldn't stop it. Not the flash of desire, but the smile that overtook her face. She huffed a laugh. Cassian stared like he hadn't seen her before. His shock was enough that Nesta dropped her smile.”

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“Cassian grinned and said to Azriel, 'We're going to be uncles.' Feyre groaned. 'Mother help this child.' Azriel's own grin bloomed at that, but Feyre's gaze slid to Nesta. Nesta said quietly to her sister, 'Congratulations.' For she'd said nothing, had only been able to stand and watch them all, their joy and closeness, as if she were looking in through a window. But Feyre offered her a tentative smile. 'Thank you. You'll be an aunt, you know.' 'Gods help this child indeed,' Cassian muttered, and Nesta glared at him.”

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“We won't allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.' 'Eyes can be blinded,' Nesta said. 'Not the ones under my command,' Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He'd gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern's camp to save Elain- he knew the risk. 'We won't make the same mistake twice.”

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“We both should go with you,' Rhys amended. 'But at least Azriel will be there.' 'Thanks for your confidence,' Cassian said wryly, and kissed Feyre's cheek. Rhys must have lowered her shield- for the moment. 'You two aren't even parents yet and your mother-henning has reached an unbearable level.' 'Mother-henning?' Feyre choked on a laugh. 'It's a word,' Cassian said, so casually that Nesta wondered if he comprehended the danger they were walking into. Nesta slid her gaze to Azriel, who shrugged subtly in confirmation. Yes, they were about to venture into a lethal, ancient bog. No, Cassian didn't seem as disturbed as the two of them were. Nesta scoffed, and Az offered her a slight smile They could be allies, that smile seemed to say. Against Cassian's utter insanity. She found herself answering Azriel with a slight smile of her own.”

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“Who would bury their dead here?' 'They didn't put them in the earth,' Cassian said, his voice oddly muffled, as if that thick air gobbled up any echo. 'These were water burials.' Nesta said, 'I'd rather be burned to ashes and cast to the wind then be left here.' 'Noted,' Cassian said. 'This is an evil place,' Azriel whispered. True fear shone in the shadowsinger's hazel eyes.”

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“Just don't go running after a beautiful white horse or a pretty-faced young man and you'll be fine.' 'And stay out of the water,' Azriel added solemnly. 'What if the Mask is in the water?' She gestured to the vast bog. They'd fly over it, they'd decided, and let her sense whatever lay here. 'Then Az and I will draw straws like the tough warriors we are and the loser goes in.' Azriel rolled his eyes, but chuckled. Cassian's grin at last glowed in his gaze as he opened his arms. 'Oorid's beauty awaits, my lady.”

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“Where are you going? she demanded. 'There are two dozen soldiers there!' 'Autumn Court soldiers,' Cassian clarified, wings pumping so hard the wind ripped at her eyes. 'I don't know what the fuck they're doing here, or if Eris has royally fucked us over, but one of them shot an ash arrow through Az's wing.' 'Then why are we flying away?' 'Because I'm not landing with you in the middle of that.' 'Put me down!' she shouted. 'Put me down wherever and go back to him!' He didn't, surveying the bog below for the right place. She slammed a hand on his muscled chest. 'Cassian!' 'I know what each second costs me, Nesta,' he said quietly. 'Put me down in a fucking tree, then!' She pointed to one that they narrowly avoided. He spotted an area he deemed safe enough: a solid stretch of grassy land, the remnants of a tee rising from its midst. He set her in the tree, as she'd suggested, perching her on the highest, sturdiest branch. It groaned and swayed beneath their weight. 'Stay here,' he commanded, waiting until she'd wrapped her hands around the branch and was clinging like a child who'd climbed too high. 'I'll be back soon. Do not climb down. No matter what you may see or hear.' 'Go.' She was utterly useless in a fight, she knew. She would only distract him. 'Be careful,' he warned, as if he weren't the one about to head into danger, and then he was gone.”

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“How did the kelpie snare you?' Nesta's scratched-up throat bobbed. 'I grew... nervous when you- both of you- didn't come back.' The silence in the room was palpable. 'I went to find you.' Cassian didn't dare say that he'd only been gone thirty minutes. Thirty minutes and she'd been in a panic like that? 'We wouldn't have left you,' he said carefully. 'I wasn't afraid of being left. I was afraid both of you were dead.' That she kept emphasising both of you tightened his chest. He knew what she was carefully avoiding saying. She'd been worried enough that she'd ventured into Oorid's perils for him.”

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“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, 'I'm getting her back.' Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger, Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, 'Then you will die.' Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, 'I'm getting her back.”

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“So he'd waited. Counted the minutes. It had been worth it. Seeing her claw her way onto the landing, panting, hair curling with the sweat sliding down her face- completely worth his generally shit day. Nesta was still sprawled on the hall floor when she hissed, 'Whoever designed those stairs was a monster.' 'Would you believe that Rhys, Az, and I had to climb up and down them as punishment when we were boys?' Her eyes shimmered with temper- good. Better than the vacant ice. 'Why?' 'Because we were young and stupid and testing boundaries with a High Lord who didn't understand practical jokes regarding public nudity.' He nodded toward the stairs. 'I got so dizzy on the hike down that I puked on Az. he then puked on Rhys, and Rhys puked all over himself. It was the height of summer, and by the time we made the trek back up, the heat was unbearable, we all reeked, and the scent of the vomit on the stairs had become horrific. We all puked again as we walked through it.' He could have sworn the corners of her mouth were trying to twitch upward. He didn't hold back his own grin at the memory. Even if they'd still had to hike back down and mop it all up.”

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“Training is fantastic. Absolutely riveting.' Azriel's mouth curled up at the corner. 'I hope you're not giving my brother a hard time.' She set down her teacup. 'Is that a threat, Shadowsinger?' Cassian took a long drink from his own tea. Drained it to the dregs. Azriel said coolly, 'I don't need to resort to threats.' 'The shadows curled around him, snakes ready to strike. Nesta gave him a smile, holding his stare. 'Neither do I.”

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“Why won't you train with Cassian?' Nesta's spine locked up. 'Why is it only Cassian that I may train with? Why not the other one?' 'Azriel?' 'Him, or the blond one who won't shut up.' 'If you're referring to Mor-' 'And why must I train at all? I am no warrior, nor do I desire to be.' 'It could make you strong-' 'There are many types of strength beyond the ability to wield a blade and end lives. Amren told me that yesterday.' 'You said you wanted our enemies dead. Why not kill them yourself?' She inspected her nails. 'Why bother when someone else can do it for me?”

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“What did you see,' Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him. 'I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.' My stomach dropped to the floor. One glance at Nesta confirmed that she felt it, too. Saw it. Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad- 'It was angry,' Elain said quietly. 'It was so, so angry that something was taken. So it took something from them as punishment.”

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“Azriel sketched a bow- while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta's shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. 'Morning, Nesta,' he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. 'Elain.' Nesta's nostrils flared, but Elain peered up at Cassian, blinking twice. 'He snapped your wings, broke your bones.' I tried to shut out the sound of Cassian's scream- the memory of the spraying blood. Nesta stared at her plate. Elain, at least, was out of her room, but... 'It's take more than that to kill me,' Cassian said with a smirk that didn't meet his eyes. Elain only said to Cassian, 'No, it will not.”

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“It's a good thing we're not the same size- or else I might be tempted to steal that dress.' 'Likely right off her,' Cassian muttered. Mor's answering smirk wasn't reassuring. But Nesta's face remained blank. Cold. She looked Mor up and down- noting the dress that exposed much of her midriff, back, and chest, then the flowing skirts with sheer panels that revealed glimpses of her legs. Scandalous, by human fashions. 'Fortunately for you,' Nesta said flatly, 'I don't return the sentiment.' Azriel coughed into his wine. But Nesta only walked to the table and claimed a seat. Mor blinked, but confided to me with a wince, 'I think we're going to need a lot more wine.”

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“Just don't go running after a beautiful white horse or a pretty-faced young man and you'll be fine." "And stay out of the water," Azriel added solemnly. "What if the mask is in the water?" She gestured to the vast bog. They'd fly over it, they'd decided, and let her sense whatever lay here. "Then Az and I will draw straws like the tough warriors we are and the loser goes in.”

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“What is that,' Devlon asked. Nesta merely stared at him, one hand clamping the edges of her grey cloak together at her chest. One of the other camp lords made some sign against evil. 'That,' Cassian said too quietly, 'is none of your concern.' 'Is she a witch?' I opened my mouth, but Nesta said flatly, 'Yes.' And I watched as nine full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords flinched. 'She may act like one sometimes,' Cassian clarified, 'but no- she's High Fae.”

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“Cooldown.' 'You sound eager.' She met his stare. 'I...' She swallowed. Hated herself for balking and forced herself to say, 'The breathing makes my head stop being so...' Horrible. Awful. Miserable. 'Loud.' 'Ah.' Understanding washed over his face. 'Mine too.' For a moment, she held his gaze, watched the wind tug at the strands of his shoulder-length hair. The instinct to touch the sable locks had her pressing her palms to the mat, as if physically restraining herself. 'Right,' Cassian cleared his throat. 'Cooldown.”

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“He paused a foot away, and frowned. 'Dresses aren't good for flying, ladies.' Nesta didn't reply. He lifted a brow. 'No barking and biting today?' But Nesta didn't rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. 'I've never worn pants,' was all she said. I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian's features. But he brushed it aside and drawled. 'I have no doubt you'd start a riot if you did.”

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“Nesta didn't see the lake, or the stones, or the sunlight and green. Her vision blurred, and her eyes stung as if they had been sliced- cleaved open to allow the tears to pass. She made it to the stones before she fell to her knees, so hard the rock bit into her bones. Was she worth being counted? She knew the answer. Had always known it. Cassian whirled toward her, but Nesta didn't see him, either, or hear his words.. Not as she buried her face in her hands and wept.”

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“Nesta, it should not have come out as it did.' 'Did Cassian tell you that?' He'd gone to Feyre, rather than here? 'No, but I can guess as much. He didn't want to keep anything from you.' 'My issue isn't with Cassian.' Nesta levelled her stare at Amren. 'I trusted you to have my back.' 'I stopped having your back the moment you decided to use that loyalty as a shield against everyone else.' Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.' Nesta let out a low laugh. 'You are her High Lady. You don't need to cater to her. Not when she now has less power than any of you.' Feyre's eyes blazed. 'Amren is my friend, and has been a member of this court for centuries. I offer her respect.' 'Is it respect that she offers you?' Nesta spat. 'It is respect that your mate offers you?' Feyre went still. Amren warned, 'Don't you say one more fucking word, Nesta Archeron.' Feyre asked, 'What do you mean?' And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?' Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!' But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?' 'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.' Silence rippled through the room, the world. Feyre breathed, 'Madja just said that the labour would be risky. But the Bone Carver... The son he showed me didn't have wings.' Her voice broke. 'Did he only show me what I wanted to see.' 'I don't know,' Nesta said. 'But I do know that your mate ordered everyone not to inform you of the truth.' She turned to Amren. 'Did you all vote on that, too? Did you talk about her, judge her, and deem her unworthy of the truth? What was your vote, Amren? To let Feyre die in ignorance?' Before Amren could reply, Nesta turned back to her sister. 'Didn't you question why your precious, perfect Rhysand has been a moody bastard for weeks? Because he knows you will die. He knows, and yet he still didn't tell you.' Feyre began shaking. 'If I die...' Her gaze drifted to one of her tattooed arms. She lifted her head, eyes bright with tears as she asked Amren, 'You... all of you knew this?' Amren threw a withering glare in Nesta's direction, but said, 'We did not wish to alarm you. Fear can be as deadly as any physical threat.' 'Rhys knew?' Tears spilled down Feyre's cheeks, smearing the paint splattered there. 'About the threat to our lives?' She peered down at herself, at the tattooed hand cradling her abdomen. And Nesta knew then that she had not once in her life been loved by her mother as much as Feyre already loved the boy growing within her. It broke something in Nesta- broke that rage, that roaring- seeing those tears begin to fall, the fear crumpling Feyre's paint-smeared face. She had gone too far. She... Oh, gods. Amren said, 'I think it is best, girl, if you speak to Rhysand about this.' Nesta couldn't bear it- the pain and fear and love on Feyre's face as she caressed her stomach. Amren growled at Nesta, 'I hope you're content now.' Nesta didn't respond. Didn't know what to say or do with herself. She simply turned on her heel and ran from the apartment.”

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“Nesta ate until she couldn't fit another morsel into her body, helping herself to thirds of the soup. The House seemed more than happy to oblige her, and had even offered her a slice of double-chocolate cake to finish. 'Is this Cassian-approved?' She picked up the fork and smiled at the moist, gleaming cake. 'It certainly isn't,' he said from the doorway, and Nesta whirled, scowling. He nodded toward the cake. 'But eat up.' She put down the fork. 'What do you want?' Cassian surveyed the family library. 'Why are you eating in here?' 'Isn't it obvious?' His grin was a slash of white. 'The only thing that's obvious is that you're talking to yourself.' 'I'm talking to the House. Which is a considerable step up from talking to you.' 'It doesn't talk back.' 'Exactly.' He snorted. 'I walked into that one.' He stalked across the room, eyeing the cake she still didn't touch. 'Are you really... talking to the House?' 'Don't you talk to it?' 'No.' 'It listens to me,' she insisted. 'Of course it does. It's enchanted.' 'It even brought food down to the library unasked.' His brows rose. 'Why?' 'I don't know how your faerie magic works.' 'Did you... do anything to make it act that way?' 'If you're taking a page from Devlon's book and asking if I did any witchcraft, the answer is no.' Cassian chuckled. 'That's not what I meant, but fine. The House likes you. Congratulations.' She growled, and he leaned over to pick up the fork. She went stiff at his closeness, but he said nothing as he took a bite of the cake. He let out a hum of pleasure that traveled along her bones. And then took another bite. 'That's supposed to be mine,' she groused, peering up at him as he continued to eat. 'Then take it from me,' he said.”

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“He pleaded. 'I didn't mean it like-' ' 'I'm calling in my favour,' she said. He went still, brows bunching. And then his eyes widened. 'Whatever you're-' 'I want you to leave. Go up to the House of Wind for the night. Do not speak to me until I come talk to you, or until a week has passed. Whichever comes first. I don't care.' Until she'd mastered herself enough to not hurt him, to stop feeling the old urge to strike and maim before she could be wounded. Cassian lurched toward her, but winced, back arching. Like the bargain tattoo on his back had burned him. 'Go away,' she ordered. His throat worked, eyes bulging. Fighting the power of the bargain with his every breath. But then he whirled, wingbeats booming as he leaped into the skies above the river. Nesta remained on the quay as her spine tingled, and she knew her tattoo had vanished.”

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