Their Fireheart

Chapter Thirty-Two

Rowan

The flight back to Velaris was silent and tense. One look at Aelin's face as they had exited the abandoned manor told me the meeting had not gone as hoped, but I would have to wait until we returned to the house where Amren was waiting to learn the full details of the ordeal. For the first time in my nearly immortal life, I cursed my powers. What I wouldn't give to be able to dive into Aelin's mind at this very moment - or even better, to not be so perfectly suited for scouting so I could have been in the meeting in the first place. If those queens had upset my mate, well, they wouldn't get the chance to live to regret it.

Rather than initiate the meeting, as he was prone to do, Rhysand strode down the hall, hands buried in his pockets, and out onto one of the many balconies lining the house. Aelin slipped after him silently, and though I longed to follow, I turned towards the rest of the inner circle - the silence simmering dangerously.

"It went well, I take it," Amren said from her perch on an overstuffed armchair. The rest of the court settled into the comfortable furniture, apparently content to allow Rhys to sulk. I shot Mor a look, silently requesting an explanation.

She cleared her throat delicately. Her voice was as close to a sneer as I had ever heard it as she explained, "The humans request proof of our good intentions. To ensure that we can be trusted."

Amren's eyebrow rose imperceptibly, "Aelin was not enough?"

I growled at that, "She is more than enough."

Mor rolled her eyes, "They're fools. Worse than fools, their ancestors would be ashamed." Amren silently indicated she should continue, and Mor spelled out the entire ridiculous encounter, with the occasional scathing remark from Cassian.

As she spoke, my rage slowly boiled beneath my skin. These selfish, foolish mortals. Willing to abandon their people just to stick their heads in the sand, pretending that they could survive if they pretended nothing untoward was occurring. As my ire grew, a sharp stab of shame pierced me. How could I have ever have accused Aelin of being a coward? She was a child when her kingdom was destroyed overnight, while these pathetic excuses for leaders were willing to sacrifice thousands of their people on the slim chance war wouldn't reach their shores.

Never again. I would be by my mates, by my Queen's side through it all.

To whatever end.

I spoke as Mor finished, "What do we show them?"

Out of nowhere, Rhys announced, "We show them Velaris."

"No," Amren hissed.

"There must be another way," Cassian loudly protested.

Rhysand, who had entered with Aelin beside him, silently offering him strength, looked completely defeated. "There is no other way. I wish there was, but -" He sighed, roughly running his fingers through his hair. it was the most disheveled I had ever seen him. "Their gripe is with my character, with my court. We have no choice. We need the other half of the book."

Azriel furrowed his brow, "You can't mean to bring them here."

"No," Rhys said, "I mean to show them." He turned to Mor, looking sincerely apologetic, "Send word to your father. We're going to pay him and the Court of Nightmares a visit."

The look of utter revulsion and slight terror on Mor's face made my blood run cold. "What. Exactly, is the Court of Nightmares?"

Rhysand looked distinctly uncomfortable as he explained, "It is the court the rest of Prythian believes the Night Court to be. The Hewn City."