Page 24 of A Court of Frost and Starlight (A Court of Thorns and Roses 3.1)
The perfect way to then reveal the full extent of what we knew.
If the Illyrians revolted ⦠I didnât want to think that far down the road. What it would cost me. What it would cost Cassian, to fight the people he still so desperately wanted to be a part of. To kill them. Itâd be far different from what weâd done to the Illyrians whoâd gladly served Amarantha, and done such terrible things in her name. Far different.
I shut out the thought. Later. After Solstice. Weâd deal with it then.
Cassian, mercifully, seemed inclined to do the same. Not that I blamed him, given the hour of bullshit posturing heâd endured before weâd winnowed here. Even now, centuries later, the camp-lords and commanders still challenged him. Spat on him.
Cassian toed his own footboard, his legs not even fully stretched out. âWho used this bed anyway? Itâs Amren-sized.â
I snorted. âCareful how you whine. Feyre calls us Illyrian babies often enough.â
Azriel chuckled. âHer flying has improved enough that I think sheâs entitled to do so.â
Pride rippled through me. Perhaps she wasnât a natural, but she made up for it with sheer grit and focus. Iâd lost count of the hours we spent in the airâthe precious time weâd managed to steal for ourselves.
I said to Cassian, âI can see about finding you two longer beds.â With Solstice Eve here, it would take a minor miracle. Iâd have to turn Velaris upside down.
He waved a hand. âNo need. Better than the couch.â
âYou being too drunk to climb the stairs last night aside,â I said wryly, earning a vulgar gesture in response, âspace in this house does indeed seem to be an issue. You could stay up at the House if youâd prefer. I can winnow you in.â
âThe House is boring.â Cassian yawned for emphasis. âAz sneaks off into shadows and Iâm left all alone.â
Azriel gave me a look that said, Illyrian baby indeed.
I hid my smile and said to Cassian, âPerhaps you should get a place of your own, then.â
âI have one in Illyria.â
âI meant here.â
Cassian lifted a brow. âI donât need a house here. I need a room.â He again toed the footboard, rocking the wood panel. âThis one would be fine, if it didnât have a dollâs bed.â
I chuckled again, but held in my retort. My suggestion that he might want a place of his own. Soon.
Not that anything was happening on that front. Not anytime soon. Nesta had made it clear enough she had no interest in Cassianânot even in being in the same room as him. I knew why. Iâd seen it happen, had felt that way plenty.
âPerhaps that will be your Solstice present, Cassian,â I replied instead. âA new bed here.â
âBetter than Morâs presents,â Az muttered.
Cassian laughed, the sound booming off the walls.
But I peered in the direction of the Sidra and lifted a brow.
She looked radiant.
Solstice Eve had fully settled upon Velaris, quieting the thrum that had pulsed through the city for the past few weeks, as if everyone paused to listen to the falling snow.
A gentle fall, no doubt, compared with the wild storm unleashing itself upon the Illyrian Mountains.
Weâd gathered in the sitting room, the fire crackling, wine opened and flowing. Though neither Lucien nor Nesta had shown their faces, the mood was far from somber.
Indeed, as Feyre emerged from the kitchen hallway, I took a moment to simply drink her in from where I sat in an armchair near the fire.
She went right to Morâperhaps because Mor was holding the wine, the bottle already outreached.
I admired the view from behind as Feyreâs glass was filled.
It was an effort to leash every raging instinct at that particular view. At the curves and hollows of my mate, the color of herâso vibrant, even in this room of so many personalities. Her midnight-blue velvet gown hugged her perfectly, leaving little to the imagination before it pooled to the floor. Sheâd left her hair down, curling slightly at the endsâhair I knew I later wanted to plunge my hands into, scattering the silver combs pinning up the sides. And then Iâd peel off that dress. Slowly.
âYouâll make me vomit,â Amren hissed, kicking me with her silver silk shoe from where she sat in the armchair adjacent to mine. âRein in that scent of yours, boy.â
I cut her an incredulous look. âApologies.â I threw a glance to Varian, standing to the side of her armchair, and silently offered him my condolences.
Varian, clad in Summer Court blue and gold, only grinned and inclined his head toward me.
Strangeâso strange to see the Prince of Adriata here. In my town house. Smiling. Drinking my liquor.
Untilâ
âDo you even celebrate Solstice in the Summer Court?â
Until Cassian decided to open his mouth.
Varian turned his head toward where Cassian and Azriel lounged on the sofa, his silver hair sparkling in the firelight. âIn the summer, obviously. As there are two Solstices.â
Azriel hid his smile by taking a sip from his wine.
Cassian slung an arm across the back of the sofa. âAre there really?â
Mother above. It was going to be this sort of night, then.
âDonât bother answering him,â Amren said to Varian, sipping from her own wine. âCassian is precisely as stupid as he looks. And sounds,â she added with a slashing glance.
Cassian lifted his glass in salute before drinking.
âI suppose your Summer Solstice is the same in theory as ours,â I said to Varian, though I knew the answer. Iâd seen many of themâlong ago. âFamilies gather, food is eaten, presents shared.â
Varian gave me what I could have sworn was a grateful nod. âIndeed.â
Feyre appeared beside my seat, her scent settling into me. I tugged her down to perch on the rolled arm of my chair.
She did so with a familiarity that warmed something deep in me, not even bothering to look my way before her arm slid around my shoulders. Just resting thereâjust because she could.
Mate. My mate.
âSo Tarquin doesnât celebrate Winter Solstice at all?â she asked Varian.
A shake of the head.
âPerhaps we should have invited him,â Feyre mused.
âThereâs still time,â I offered. The Cauldron knew we needed alliances more than ever. âThe call is yours, Prince.â
Varian peered down at Amren, who seemed to be entirely focused on her goblet of wine. âIâll think about it.â
I nodded. Tarquin was his High Lord. Should he come here, Varianâs focus would be elsewhere. Away from where he wished that focus to beâfor the few days he had with Amren.
Mor plopped onto the sofa between Cassian and Azriel, her golden curls bouncing. âI like it to be just us anyway,â she declared. âAnd you, Varian,â she amended.
Varian offered her a smile that said he appreciated the effort.
The clock on the mantel chimed eight. As if it had summoned her, Elain slid into the room.
Mor was instantly on her feet, offeringâinsisting on wine. Typical.
Elain politely refused, taking up a spot in one of the wooden chairs set in the bay of windows. Also typical.
But Feyre was staring at the clock, her brow furrowed. Nesta isnât coming.
You invited her for tomorrow. I sent a soothing caress down the bond, as if it could wipe away the disappointment rippling from her.
Feyreâs hand tightened on my shoulder.
I lifted my glass, the room quieting. âTo family old and new. Let the Solstice festivities begin.â
We all drank to that.
CHAPTER
17
Feyre
The glare of sunlight on snow filtering through our heavy velvet curtains awoke me on Solstice morning.
I scowled at the sliver of brightness and turned my head away from the window. But my cheek collided with something crinkly and firm. Definitely not my pillow.
; Peeling my tongue from the roof of my mouth, rubbing at the headache that had formed by my left brow thanks to the hours of drinking, laughing, and more drinking that weâd done until the early hours of the morning, I lifted myself enough to see what had been set beside my face.
A present. Wrapped in black crepe paper and tied with silver thread. And beside it, smiling down at me, was Rhys.
Heâd propped his head on a fist, his wings draped across the bed behind him. âHappy birthday, Feyre darling.â
I groaned. âHow are you smiling after all that wine?â