Chapter 110
He almost didn't come, if only to make his point. It seemed his argument with Arwen last night had made its way to Rhysand who was aloof to Cassian all morning. Both siblings kept everybody at an arm's length except for Feyre. Azriel, who Cassian had delivered the message of suggesting an alternative space to sleep last night, stared at Arwen as they ate breakfast in a common chamber. Not in anger, it took some time to realise, but as though he felt out of place next to her.
"I'm going to entertain myself," said Rhysand, pushing from his chair and whisking away his plate with a flick of his fingers. Feyre stood with him, linking her arm in his. "I'm sure there's someone in this place left to scare."
Arwen tipped her head and gave a shrewd smile. "Have fun. I'm going to head to the city library and see if they have this book Cerridwen told me about." Cassian immediately stood but a harsh look from both Rhysand and Arwen had him pausing. "You're not joining me Cassian," Arwen ordered. "They won't approach me if I'm not alone."
"I can watch from a distance," he bargained. It went against everything inside of him to voluntarily leave her to be bait. "They won't notice me."
Azriel glanced up at him. "You're not exactly an unimposing figure," he muttered.
Cassian's jaw clenched. "I thought you were against this plan. You're happy to leave her off to see what these bastards will do to her to get their way? What if they don't bring her to us as Rhys thinks they will?"
"Why wouldn't they?" asked Rhysand. "They want my attention and they know the way to do it is through m-Arwen." He took a step forward and hung his arms around her neck where she still sat. "They know Feyre is too powerful and she'll be at my side."
"And I'll be at Arwen's," Azriel said, looking still at his mate. Her mouth parted on the edge of contention, but he added, "In the shadows. Unseen. Just to make sure. I'm sure even you cannot oppose that extra line of safety, Rhys."
Rhysand glanced at Feyre, then down at his sister. Arwen angled her head to look up at him in return. "I suppose not," he agreed. "Just keep your hands to yourself today. Cassian, you'll stay with me."
Cassian gruffly crossed his arms. "Fine." Stalking towards the door, he only stopped to lean down and press a kiss against Feyre's cheek, then Arwen's. The latter stored her reaction, or perhaps did not have one to give at all. Resisting a roll of his eyes, he left the room.
~
Cassian's fingers rested loosely on the knife lodged in its sheath at his thigh. Watchful hazel eyes scanned the throne room which was emptier since they had arrived yesterday. It was mainly just Keir's lackeys who were holding a smaller form of court to those who desired to speak with them or their High Lord.
Next to him, Rhysand sat perched on his throne, his head tipped back against the high spine, fingers drumming on the rounded end of the arm. Feyre rested against the other arm, quiet and watchful as Cassian was. He swallowed away the bitterness in his mouth, forcing his trust in Azriel to be enough.
"I could never get bored of it," Rhysand muttered to Feyre. "Sitting on this throne."
Feyre smiled to herself. "It's quite... empowering, isn't it?"
Cassian felt his blood boiling. How could he sit there, smiling and talking? He wanted to believe that it was an act; that they were simply better actors than him and were containing their restlessness.
It didn't help when Rhysand said, "Relax, Cassian. You're doing nobody any good fidgeting like that. You make me want to squirm."
"Good," he snapped, quiet enough to not propel his voice to the people, but sharp enough to get his point across. "You should be squirming. We're in a wolf den right and you've just left your sister to them."
"Cassian." Rhysand's voice was cool and hard like steel. Cassian left his eyes drift away from the room to his High Lord. Rhysand leant against the arm of the throne. "She knows you care and she does listen to you. You just have to trust her on this one. Trust me."
Cassian took a half-step towards his brother and pointed his finger to the chamber beyond them. "She is our duty, Rhys. My duty. I swore an oath before you that her life was my priority and now you ask me to ignore it."
Feyre sat straight, her hand resting on Rhysand's shoulder. The High Lord remained still, not as rigid as Cassian was, but stiff. "This is for the greater good of our court," he said after a long silence, voice weaker and distant, as if he were speaking to someone else. "That is our priority."
Cassian was tremoring. Tremoring with frustration and unable to settle his thoughts. Rhysand looked straight head, quiet and focused now. Following suit, Cassian lifted his chin and looked back to the enormous chamber. Keir watched them from below, speaking with a dark-skinned High Fae in armour but his eyes were flickering between the throne and the entrance. Feyre spoke softly with her mate, but Cassian didn't both trying to overhear. Not until Azriel appeared at his side.
The spymaster said nothing, falling into line next to Cassian, clasping his hands behind his back and keeping his head forward. Cassian's fingers went to his thigh-strapped knife again as anticipation brewed inside of him.
His throat bobbed as a disturbance grew from the outer hall. Six High Fae in unmarked leathers strode into the throne roomâfour from the night before, two that he had not seen in the memory. The two at the front latched onto something that thrashed between them.
Arwen's knees scraped along the ground as they yanked her along, refusing to let her climb back to her feet. Her head hung low, messy in the way he didn't love. The type of mess that was like she had thrashed around in her bed from a nightmare or run her hands through it in frustration. It took everything in him not to march over there and kill them one by one. And he would take his time. With a quick glance at Azriel in the corner of his eye, he was glad to see his brother felt the same way.
Rhysand sat forward, watching the scene carefully. The courtesans moved out of the way, but not in fear. A sea that willingly parted. The six males stopped before the dais. One stood behind Arwen, threading his hand through her hair, yanking it back. She yelped. Silver flashed and a knife pressed against her throat. Azriel seemed to stop breathing.
"Careful," Rhysand crooned in warning, low and dark. "You could hurt somebody with that thing."
The one closest to the dais stepped forward, the leader if Cassian could assume. "And we will," he said, rough in tone. Brown hair flowed down to his shoulders, the ends just as jagged as his jawline. Bold blue eyes examined Cassian and Azriel. "We have our own daemati inside her head. One move against us and she will slice her own neck against that blade. Harm us after this meeting is finished and she will take a dagger to her own heart."
Cassian carefully released his flexing fingers from the hilt of his dagger. Arwen panted, her eyes blankly fixed on the marble stairs. She seemed unharmed beyond the obvious scuffle and a bruise on her temple. But Cassian knew deep in the marrow of his bones that something wasn't right with her. She would be looking upâfinding comfort in his presence and the presence of her mate and brother and Feyre. Yet she stared downwards, ignoring them altogether. Something had happened and his gut twisted in fear. He screamed those thoughts in his head, praying that Rhysand would somehow hear it and listen to him finally.
Keir watched from a distance, careful and calculating like a bird watching a predator and its prey from the safety of the trees.
"I assume you want something," said Rhysand. Feyre eyed the blade at Arwen's neck, her grip on Rhysand's shoulder tight. "Go on, don't keep your audience waiting."
The leader glanced over his shoulder and Cassian took a small ounce of glee at the shift of the male's weight; a sign that he wasn't comfortable standing before them all. "We're here to negotiate the terms of our entrance into Velaris. You have stalled long enough, High Lord Rhysand."
"A negotiation?" A bitter laugh followed as he sunk back into the throne. "Seems more like blackmail to me. Though I suppose that's the only form of negotiation you know. How about this oneâyou let her go, unharmed and I let you keep your lives."
Another male behind the leader, darker-haired, said, "You think us fools?"
Rhysand laughed again, resting his cheek on flexed fingers. "No, I think you wise. Which is exactly why I know you will do as you're told."
The darker-haired one narrowed his eyes. "Two weeks per month, that is our demand. Your sister will be returned to you unharmed."
Pursing his lips, Rhysand shook his head. "No, that won't do."
"You're not in the position to negotiate, High Lord."
"Didn't you just call this a negotiation? I believe that means both parties have a say."
Even Cassian was becoming furious at his merriment, eyeing the way the blade pressed harder against Arwen's neck who did not even wince, locked in a physical or mental trance by the daemati of their posse.
"Let me just lay this down simply," Rhys continued, waving a finger around. "I will get what I want because if you kill my sisterâwhich I wouldn't advise, I will kill you and nobody gets what they want. Or you can forget the deal and I don't kill you out of mercy on behalf of your surrender. I get what I want, you get your lives. There is no option where it benefits you and there never was one since the moment you threatened my family."
The red-haired daemati who remained previously quiet and a step to the side spoke. "You are right, you would kill us. It would be stupid to kill her." He tipped his thin head to his shoulder. "As long as she is alive, we have the upper hand. I control her, I control you. I could melt her mind, piece by piece. It would be slow. Give us the two weeks a month."
Rhysand stood, tall and proud. Cassian's eyes didn't rest, constantly examining every twitch of muscle the males made. "You would torture her for a chance to visit my home?"
The brunette leader spoke again. "Yes. Her life is insurance of our own. Doesn't matter about the state it's in. I would think the idea of her death would be a particularly sore spot for you, Rhysand."
"Do it."
"W-what?" The leader blinked.
Rhysand shrugged. "Do it. If you intend to threaten me, I would hope that you can carry it out. But you should know that if you do, I rescind any offer of mercy."
Adrenaline flooded Cassian's muscles which tensed in preparation for action. He told Arwen he would disobey Rhysand if he felt she was in danger and he would keep his word. But they also had her mind under control. If he acted wrong, she would die at his hands. He didn't see how Rhysand was going to win this, and it scared him.
The leader shuffled, confused. Obviously, he didn't expect it to reach this point, hoping the threat alone would work. Over his shoulder to the daemati, he nodded.
"Rhys," Azriel whispered. Rhysand didn't listen.
The daemati examined both parties again before looking down at Arwen. She winced, her face screwing tight. Rhysand watched, his shoulders dropping in a long, trained exhalation. At the feminine whimper, Cassian's guts twisted on themselves but he wouldn't dare step forward and neither did Azriel or Feyre.
Rhysand, hands folded at his back, rose from the throne and took an ambling pace down the steps of the dais. The leader stood his ground but the new uncertainty in him was clear as he looked the High Lord up and down. "I've seen her die. If you're going to play on my sympathies, you're going to have to do more than a little bit of whimpering."
Cassian was panting now along with Arwen. Against Rhysand's laxed words, he felt the opposite. The memory of her death made any sound of her pain, any discomfort, agony to hear.
Arwen threw her head back with a cry, her weight held only by the two males gripping her arms. Rhysand placed a hand on his chest. "Starting to feel a little," he mused as if speaking to a child. "Keep going. I'm not used to this."
"Do you not believe us?" the leader demanded. Rhys shrugged and smiled. "You will sacrifice your sister for that city?"
"Crush it." Rhysand stalked forward, hands now by his side. "Crush her mind. I dare you." Everybody's eyes turned to Arwen whose chest moved in rigorous pants. Rhysand took another step forward. "Crush it."
The leader looked at the daemati. The daemati looked back. Cassian's fingers went back to his blade. Feyre stood tall next to the throne. Azriel's shadows swirled around him fanatically.
Cassian's boot left the ground. He began to unsheathe his knife, his eyes set on the daemati. He was going to disobey Rhys andâ
"Oh, but you can't," Rhysand sang grimly, looking at the daemati. "Can you? Pity that. What's that saying?" He turned his back to them, spinning on his heel. "Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice...wellâ" Rhys laughed as he turned back around "âyou don't fool me twice."
A sudden yelp echoed followed by the distinct cracking of bone echoed throughout the throne room. For a sickening moment, Cassian thought it was Arwen, the sound coming from right where she knelt. But it was the red-haired male, the daemati, who fell to the floor.
Dead.
Cassian's heart thumped against his ribs, a breath hissing past his teeth as he stepped forward, imagining himself still seeing Arwen twist her own neck against the blade.
But it wasn't Arwen that knelt between the males. And it wasn't Rhysand that stood before them. At first he thought they might have winnowed, switching places but his mind caught up.
They had glamoured themselves. A strong one for even he didn't see through it. Arwen stood before them, never once having been in their grasp. The males stiffened, not in fear, but under daemati control. Rhysand rose from his knees and straightened the cuffs of his sleeves. Even now he hadn't broken his vows, having knelt before the only three things in existence he would kneel for. Striding forward, he placed a hand on Arwen's shoulder and faced the males. "Thank you, sister. Perfect display."
"It was rather entertaining being you."
The siblings had tricked all of them.
"It may have been my sister's words, but they were spoken on my behalf," Rhysand said. "You were given a chance to surrender and you forsook it. You cannot bend me to your will, especially not by threatening my family." He was no longer speaking to the small band of males, but their true leader. They had no proof of Keir's involvement and even if they did, his death would be an annoyance to deal with. "This is a reminder that I will always be a step ahead."
The remaining five men's heads snapped in horrid directions. They fell to the floor. Rhysand looked up from their bodies to Keir, a dangerous smile lifting in the corner of his mouth. Arwen looked back at Cassian and Azriel. She mouthed: "I told you. Trust me."
But it didn't stop Cassian from feeling the hot anger flush through him.