A Court of Frost and Starlight (A Court of Thorns and Roses #3.1) by Sarah J. Maas

I rolled my eyes. In the centuries I’d known her, Mor’s present-buying abilities had never improved. I had a drawer full of downright hideous cuff links that I’d never worn, each gaudier than the next. I was lucky, though: Cassian had a trunk crammed with silk shirts of varying colors of the rainbow. Some even had ruffles on them.

I could only imagine the horrors in store for my mate.

Thin sheets of ice lazily drifted down the Sidra. I didn’t dare ask Mor about Azriel—what she’d gotten him, what she planned to do with him. I had little interest in being chucked right into that icy river.

“I’m going to need you, Mor,” I said quietly.

The amusement in Mor’s eyes sharpened to alertness. A predator. There was a reason she’d held her own in battle, and could hold her own against any Illyrian. My brothers and I had overseen much of the training ourselves, but she’d spent years traveling to other lands, other territories, to learn what they knew.

Which was precisely why I said, “Not with Keir and the Hewn City, not with holding the peace long enough for things to stabilize.”

She crossed her arms, waiting.

“Az can infiltrate most courts, most lands. But I might need you to win those lands over.” Because the pieces that were now strewn on the table … “Treaty negotiations are dragging on too long.”

“They’re not happening at all.”

Truth. With the rebuilding, too many tentative allies had claimed they were busy and would reconvene in the spring to discuss the new terms.

“You wouldn’t need to be gone for months. Just visits here and there. Casual.”

“Casual, but make the kingdoms and territories realize that if they push too far or enter into human lands, we’ll obliterate them?”

I huffed a laugh. “Something like that. Az has lists of the kingdoms most likely to cross the line.”

“If I’m flitting about the continent, who will deal with the Court of Nightmares?”

“I will.”

Her brown eyes narrowed. “You’re not doing this because you think I can’t handle Keir, are you?”

Careful, careful territory. “No,” I said, and wasn’t lying. “I think you can. I know you can. But your talents are better wielded elsewhere for now. Keir wants to build ties to the Autumn Court—let him. Whatever he and Eris are scheming up, they know we’re watching, and know how stupid it would be for either of them to push us. One word to Beron, and Eris’s head will roll.”

Tempting. So damn tempting to tell the High Lord of Autumn that his eldest son coveted his throne—and was willing to take it by force. But I’d made a bargain with Eris, too. Perhaps a fool’s bargain, but only time would tell in that regard.

Mor fiddled with her scarf. “I’m not afraid of them.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I just—being near them, together …” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “It’s probably what it feels like for you to be around Tamlin.”

“If it’s any consolation, cousin, I behaved rather poorly the other day.”

“Is he dead?”

“No.”

“Then I’d say you controlled yourself admirably.”

I laughed. “Bloodthirsty of you, Mor.”

She shrugged, again watching the river. “He deserves it.”

He did indeed.

She glanced sidelong at me. “When would I need to leave?”

“Not for another few weeks, maybe a month.”

She nodded, and fell quiet. I debated asking her if she wished to know where Azriel and I thought she might go first, but her silence said enough. She’d go anywhere.

Too long. She’d been cooped up within the borders of this court for too long. The war barely counted. And it wouldn’t happen in a month, or perhaps a few years, but I could see it: the invisible noose tightening around her neck with every day spent here.

“Take a few days to think about it,” I offered.

She whipped her head toward me, golden hair catching in the light. “You said you needed me. It didn’t seem like there was much room for choice.”

“You always have a choice. If you don’t want to go, then it’s fine.”

“And who would do it instead? Amren?” A knowing look.

I laughed again. “Certainly not Amren. Not if we want peace.” I added, “Just—do me a favor and take some time to think about it before you say yes. Consider it an offer, not an order.”

She fell silent once more. Together, we watched the ice floes drift down the Sidra, toward the distant, wild sea. “Does he win if I go?” A quiet, tentative question.

“You have to decide that for yourself.”

Mor turned toward the ruined house and grounds behind us. Staring not at them, I realized, but eastward.

Toward the continent and the lands within. As if wondering what might be waiting there.





CHAPTER

15

Feyre

I had yet to find or even come up with a vague idea for what to give Rhysand for Solstice.

Mercifully, Elain quietly approached me at breakfast, Cassian still passed out on the couch in the sitting room across the foyer and no sign of Azriel where he’d fallen asleep on the couch across from him, both too lazy—and perhaps a little drunk, after all the wine we’d had last night—to make the trek up to the tiny spare bedroom they’d be sharing during Solstice. Mor had taken my old bedroom, not minding the clutter I’d added, and Amren had gone back to her own apartment when we’d finally drifted to sleep in the early hours of the morning. Both my mate and Mor were still sleeping, and I’d been content to let them continue doing so. They’d earned that rest. We all had.