A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ Patrasche of the Spring Court ☆

It was Thesan who spoke first, voice deep and rich. "And you expect us to believe all of this?" he asked, as soon as Eblis finished talking.

"I was just as bewildered as you, Thesan. But I assure you, she is right there." Rhysand quirked a dark brow, as if challenging the High Lord of Dawn. The lord looked from brother to sister to brother before sitting back, upswept eyes narrowing as he continued to consider.

"I admit," Thesan then said, dark arms folding together, "the similarities are uncanny. But only in face."

Helion nodded. "What if your pretty little sister is a spy? You say she spent five centuries with Hybern—but there was no chance for a change of heart?" the male questioned.

Eblis froze at the accusation, mouth popping open as if to respond.

"She endured enough in Hybern." She jerked towards the voice—one that had come from right beside her. Azriel shouldered in front of her, face hard as the mountains surrounding them. "If you were to spend five centuries of torture with your enemy, would you sway to their side?" Eblis’s heart stuttered. 

Kallias, blue eyes nothing but chips of ice from an iceberg, looked through heavy lashes at her. Judging. "Depends on what her pain threshold is."

Viviane turned an accusatory gaze on her husband, mouth agape at the suggestion. The male merely shrugged, eyes never leaving Eblis and Azriel.

“So what is it you wanted to warn us of, Rhysand?” Helion murmured, turning to the High Lord of Night. 

“Just a few months ago, the King of Hybern was slaughtered and the continent was left un-ruled.” Rhysand placed a hand on the table of ice, demanding their attention with a quiet voice. “Except that it wasn’t. The King had a Queen, as well as a daughter.” 

Tamlin’s chin lifted, spring green eyes serious. He’d taken the brunt of the previous war, being that his lands had been what Hybern had taken control of first and used as a base. “So nice of you to tell us of their appearance. How long have you known?”

Rhysand met his gaze with a dark glance. “About a week.” The High Lord of Spring seemed taken aback by the words. Eblis stepped forward, taking the lull of conversation.

She relayed the information she’d already given to Cassian and Rhysand, including the daemati warning. As soon as she mentioned it, all the High Lord’s seemed to glance at their retinues, conferring with them. Tamlin and Eris sat a little straighter with their lone countenances. 

“What do we know of the Queen? Or the princess for that matter?” Eris said, sending a russet gaze to Eblis.

“Not much,” Azriel answered, sliding a shoulder before her as if taking the brunt of Eris’s eyes. She blinked at the same time as the new High Lord of Autumn. 

“Actually,” she said, almost quietly, “I have something.” The room scanned her, even as she shrunk. 

“Eblis?” Rhysand questioned, raising a dark brow. Mor glanced down at the female. 

The words tore from her before she could stop them. “The Queen was Made.” Azriel startled at her side, turning a hazel gaze to her. They questioned her silently.

Tarquin sat forward, pale outfit shifting in the silence. “And how, exactly, was she Made?”

She picked over her words, staring down at her green, fur-hemmed gown. She was there the day it had happened. “Not by the cauldron, or by any of you High Lord’s. She was...created. By the King.” 

“Spit it out, Eblis,” Kallias snarled, Viviane placing a calming hand on his arm. Their pale skin was even paler. Azriel’s wings shifted behind him, siphons flaring.