Chapter 28
Arwen hid her grin behind her glass of wine as Cassian stared at Rhysand's wrist. They sat around the dining table at the House, enjoying a family meal. As her brother leant his elbows against the table, the black sleeves of his tunic shifted back to reveal the threaded bracelet. The one that matched hers. Cassian turned his gaze to her, the mock offence and gesture at his empty wrist enough to send her into laughter.
"I'll make you one too," she promised.
He chuckled and winked at her before they turned their attention to the rest of the table. "So, whose heading with you to Hewn City?" he asked. Lucien would be arriving at the end of the week on the night of the Autumn Equinox. Hewn City would host a ball to mark the turning of the season.
Rhysand clasped his hands in front of his chin. "You and Azriel," he answered Cassian. There was a brief flash of relief across Mor's face, a weight sliding from her shoulders.
"You sure that's a good idea?" Amren inquired, an arm slung over the back of her chair. "Maybe you should bring me. I have more restraint, but I'm twice as intimidating."
Cassian rolled his nose in a snarl in her direction and Azriel simply looked to Rhysand for his response. Arwen held her hands in her lap, running her nail against the grooves of her other nails.
"You are," he agreed with a smile, "but I don't want them to think I'm intimidated enough to bring more of you. They will be in my realm and they will know that despite these negotiations being... mutual, that it will be under my control."
"They?" Azriel echoed.
Rhysand nodded. "Lucien is going to be accompanied by Ianthe who has recently been made a High Priestess."
"Isn't she a bitch?" Arwen mused, taking a moment to realise that the words were said aloud.
Rhysand didn't bother to smother his smile. "That is one way of saying it," he answered, taking a sip at his wine. "She has been Tamlin's friend since they were both children so we know she is going to be difficult to deal with."
"Why is a High Priestess coming for negotiations on behalf of a court?" Mor wondered.
"Maybe Tamlin doesn't trust Lucien yet," Cassian offered.
"Or she has something to gain from it," Azriel pointed out and looked to Rhysand again. "You always said she was a viper for power."
Arwen tipped her head in agreement. "It was mentioned before that perhaps someone is pressuring Tamlin to reach out to the Night Court. I doubt he would do it on his own whim so perhaps Ianthe has a hand in it."
Rhysand gestured to her with his wine. "If that's the case, then she'll be the one to look out for. Not Lucien."
"I should come." Eyes around the table turned to Arwen. She knew if she spared the time, each one would be sending her a different story of thoughts. Instead, she only looked at the head of the table. "A female knows how to read another female far better than any male does. You know that Ianthe can be dangerous and she knows you're a daemati so she will be careful."
"Then Mor will come," he concluded.
"But I'm the one that wants to." She leant forward, naval pressing into the table. Rhysand avoided her eyes, his head shaking in a way that she wasn't sure he noticed he was doing it. "Besides, if I'm there, it sends a message. It will remind them both not to cross a line with you because they will know what their High Lord has done." Arwen splayed her hands on the table and waited. But he never answered. "Rhys." Finally, his eyes. "You asked me for my opinion on meeting them and now I'm telling you I want to be there. Involve me."
He blinked; thrice and slow. "If that's what you what," he conceded.
Arwen leant back with a small nod. "Thank you."
They finished the rest of their meal avoiding talks of politics.
~
Arwen stood beside the throne on the dais, her posture turned towards her brother who graced it, but her eyes scouring the crowds. Cassian, covered from his neck to his feet in his leathers had a sword strapped to his back, crimson siphons blaring with the threat of release. People eyed him, pretending to hold themselves steady until he wandered close enough that they stepped out of his path.
Azriel was almost invisible, if not for his own azure siphons that were lanterns in the shadows. There was a circle around him, where he leant against a pillar, that nobody dared enter. A ring of death, Arwen liked to call it.
Finding her attention stuck there, she tore her gaze away to look down at her brother. His head rested in his hand, a façade of boredom oozing from him.
It was the night of the Equinox Ball, held in the honour of autumn's arrival. They had arrived the previous night to handle Keir and ensure that tonight was to the High Lord's liking. A dress of black velvet clung to her skin, the plunging neckline down the front sharp, stopping less than an inch from her bellybutton. And the back... The back of the dress revealed everything there was to be seen. It plunged deeper and wider than the front, allowing every pair of eyes that wandered to see what she had for so long hidden.
"They're late," she murmured, resting her thigh against the armrest.
Musicians played a symphony of notes that caressed the darkness of the throne room. People mingled with wine and some danced on the open floor in the middle. The glossed floor echoed the amber hues of the torches struck alight.
"Maybe they've decided not to come after all," he muttered back. "I wouldn't accept if they made the terms to be on their soil."
"Yes, because Cassian sneezing at every flower he passes isn't exactly an image of intimidation," she crooned, rolling her lips to hide the mirthful smile. The image in her head was quite the opposite to the unleashed power he displayed tonight.
Rhysand smirked, flicking her thigh to display his own amusement. They sat there for some time longer, speaking hushed as people continued to enter, bowing before the throne. Finally, Arwen tipped her head in curiosity as a head of fire made its way through the sea of shadow. At Lucien's side, a blonde female dressed in the robes of a High Priestess. She examined the new attire of the emissary, the green jacket clasped neatly at his front with gold embellishment. A true Spring Court representative.
Lucien's eyes dropped before he reached the dais. "High Lord Rhysand," he greeted, dropping to a polite bow. When he rose, those amber eyes switched to Arwen. "Arwen."
Ianthe swept in a curtsey, her eyes fluttering low but lifting back to settle on Rhysand. "High Lord," her steady voice sang. "It is a pleasure to meet with you again."
Arwen moved her weight back to her feet to offer the throne and its High Lord the proper image it deserved. Unimpeded and utterly lethal. Her chin lifted, meeting Lucien's gaze and made the smallest nod of greeting in return. There was a façade she could not dropâone that she wasn't sure she desired to anymore around him, with what he represented. But it did not entirely obstruct the impression of him that she had made years before.
Ianthe on the other hand...
"I'm glad to see you've finally found your way," said Rhysand, playing with a ball of lint between his thumb and forefinger. The crown sat perfectly on his head of raven hair.
Ianthe did not bristle at the accusation of their lateness, but Lucien turned his attention back to her brother. "My apologies. My companion wanted to ensure her... presentation was going to be to your satisfaction."
"And you did not think to ensure your own was?"
Lucien balked. While he may have been a son of a High Lord, Arwen knew that he never thought he was capable of being High Lord one day. Never took on the reasonability of preparing for it. He was younger than she was by a few decades. This was a world he had only looked on, before. Now he was a part of it.
She gave a light tut and rested a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Tonight is a celebration. The Autumn Equinox. I'm sure that this night holds some importance to you, Vanserra." Rhysand softened under her hand, a sign that he was content to let her reign the rest of the conversation.
"Yes," he answered. "I have spent every year since my birth celebrating it."
"Then don't let us break that tradition. There is a ball, if you have yet to notice." Arwen gestured with her lifted chin to the chamber beyond them. "Enjoy tonight but I'd warn you not to indulge yourself too much. We can begin discussions in the early morn and see what your High Lord has to offer us."
Lucien nodded to her with a slight glance behind him. Glad to accumulate to his surroundings before he was put to the test. With a bow, he turned and weaved his way into the crowd. Ianthe let him brush past her robes before stepping to the side and taking the centre position before the throne.
"Rhys," she called. Arwen gave a silent 'humph' at the name. Ianthe tilted her chin, letting her lashes dust under her light brows. "I desire an audience with you tonight. A private one."
Rhysand gestured outwards. "As you can see, I'm quite otherwise occupied." Yes, Arwen thought, sitting around looking pretty. "I'm sure anything you need to discuss can be done so in our meeting tomorrow."
"I'm afraid this is not something that can be spoken in front of an audience. Even of your closest circle."
Arwen narrowed her eyes at the tone. Despite the request for privacy, there was no smallness in Ianthe's voice. Nothing meek, nor entirely urgent. Rhysand settled deeper into the throne. "There is no one close enough to overhear us now. If there is something you need to inform me of, then feel free to do so here." Ianthe parted her red-painted lips, eyes moving across to where Arwen stood. Rhysand hummed and followed the line of sight, but Arwen did not relent her stare on the High Priestess. "Whether it is spoken in front of my sister or not she will hear what is to be said. It is up to you whether you wish for it to be your own words or my re-telling."
Ianthe's shoulders rose in an extended inhale, albeit her composure remained entirely even. "Perhaps I will catch you at a later time then, Rhys." Before she could be formally dismissed, her robes swept in a sharp turn as she too joined the crowd.
Arwen grumbled, dropping to sit on the arm of the throne. "She did not even greet me," she noted bitterly.
"But you have done exactly what you wanted," Rhysand countered softly as a wave of courtiers passed in front of the dais. "She is very much aware of your presence. She hated that you were here. Hated even more that I wouldn't send you away."
That at least, brought a smirk. "Did you see what she wanted?" She had her suspicions but having them confirmed would be a nice boost to her confidence.
"I have a feeling," he muttered.
Arwen sat there for a few moments, watching the dancers. Her eyes trailed to Lucien who stood with a goblet to the side of the throne room. "I think I will join the celebrations. And perhaps you should double check the locks on your room tonight, brother. You wouldn't want any uninvited guests seeking... an audience."
She slid from the arm of the chair, eyes set on the new emissary when a hand caught her wrists. "Arwen, keep to Cassian and Azriel whilst we're here. I will keep an eye over you in here, but do not be alone without one of us nearby."
"I know," she smiled. "It is the same every time that we visit."
Rhysand bowed his head and let go of her hand, letting Arwen join the rest of the ball.