A Court of Bastards [ACOTAR]

Chapter 4

Morning broke upon the mountains like a gentle kiss, caressing the snow covered peaks and colouring the skies a pale, forget-me-not blue. Sunlight spilled into the Mountain Palace and the moonstone glowed with its warmth. It was to this scene that Fiona awoke, and this scene that inspired her to rise and explore. The early morning silence felt weighty around her as she crept through the Autumn quarters - for a moment she wondered why there was no birdsong or the rustle of leaves in the breeze to greet her, before she remembered they were very far from home.

The gilded door made no sound as it swung on its hinges, a sign that Fiona took as a good omen for her adventure. She had slipped on her pale green dress from the day before, not caring that it was rumpled and likely not grand enough for the Night Court. The silk swished pleasantly against her skin as she tiptoed along gleaming marble corridors, following the scent of bacon and honey.

There were no paintings on the walls, no homage to previous lords and ladies, and nothing to suggest that the palace housed some of the most powerful High Fae to ever walk Prythian. In fact, she noted nothing to suggest that it was lived in at all. The hallways were empty of any decoration, no tables for flowers or chaises to linger and chat on. Fiona might have assumed that the Night Court were truly so wicked that they didn't bother with such trivial comforts, but the beauty of the landscape and warm moonstone made her think otherwise.

Eventually she emerged in a hall with a vaulted ceiling beneath which a large number of fae were bustling about, grabbing plates and clanging their cutlery against the many serving counters. The smell of bacon and honey exploded into a hundred different scents that danced in the air and enticed Fiona further; sugared dates, plums, melting butter and baking bread. Her eyes scanned the hall, spotting no High Lords or court ladies, but instead a hundred different species of faerie. Some wore the uniforms of serving staff, others the insignia of foreign courts, but evidently no borders existed at breakfast as they squabbled and laughed together.

On one table sat a group of fae with tiny wings, their skin the colour of glittering adamant. Among them Fiona spotted the attendant who had escorted them to their quarters last night. Nearby gathered a cluster of gorgeous creatures, who appeared to be High Fae in all regards except their wings, which were white and feathered, bursting from their backs like the triumphant dawn - the legendary Peregryn, Fiona realised. But it was the figures at the centre table that truly took her breath away.

With skin in every shade and hair ranging from deep brown to night black, each bore a set of huge, looming, leathery wings that marked these fae as Illyrians, creatures wreathed in myth and legend whose very presence served as a warning to those who crossed them. Their faces and bodies were as well-muscled as any warrior of Prythian - but those wings came from somewhere else. Some descendant from another world who had lived in shadow and hunted in the night. The Peregryn wings were angelic, they shone in the morning sun - the Illyrian wings seemed to absorb it. And the fae themselves were no less frightening. Covered in whorls and swirls of deep blue ink, their muscles gleamed as the warriors moved, somehow lithe and gracious despite their size.

Fiona watched, half in awe and half in fear, as they shared their breakfast, joking and play-fighting over the table. One particularly large Illyrian female snapped out a wing to shove her companion off the bench, and the group laughed loudly as he fell.

"Eggs?"

Fiona tore her eyes away from the Illyrians and back to the breakfast counter. An old fae with bloated green skin was holding out a ladle, heaped with scrambled eggs.

She recovered herself and nodded, training her eyes on the plate in her hands to avoid meeting the female's sharp gaze.

"Are you supposed to be here?" the fae asked slowly.