A Court of Bastards [ACOTAR]

Chapter 21

~ Nesta POV ~

Nesta studied those doe-brown eyes and the mass of golden hair before her and saw a fraud. The moonlight streamed through the window behind Morrigan, illuminating every strand and washing her skin silver. She looked beautiful, like she always had. But now, Nesta saw something new, something that she had always seen, perhaps, but that had now grown and festered in the shadows. A crack that had widened.

"It started out as a game, a shot at revenge." Mor explained. "I didn't mean for it all to get so...twisted." She looked between those gathered, her family, searching for a friendly face to plead with. Her eyes darkened as she found none, and she raised her voice.

"How many times have you each promised me the chance to rip Eris' head from his body?" she asked, daring them to look at her. "How many times did you promise me he would die in agony for what he did?" Mor turned to Cassian. Out of instinct, Nesta placed a hand on his thigh, as though protecting him from her gaze. 

The blonde noted the movement and lifted her chin. "We've contemplated much worse things than what I did. I just wanted him to feel an ounce, even an ounce of the pain he caused me." An absent hand moved toward her stomach and clenched into a fist.

Silence roiled through the room as loud as a foghorn. Nesta was shocked at the way Mor held herself, as if in defiance of their disgust. How she found the gall to defend her actions in light of what had been revealed was beyond her, and the longer she studied that tilt to her head, the more Nesta felt her blood begin to boil. 

It was almost pride, she thought - and the thought sickened her.

"So you made him fall for you." 

Rhysand's stare was immovable and cold, his body just as rigid. "You convinced him that you loved him, and then you slept with him, despite how rotten it made you feel. You ruined yourself for your revenge."

Mor flinched at the tone of malice in his voice, but she was bold enough to nod.

Rhys leaned back in his chair. He looked as though he were trying to decide whether to land on disgust or pity, his eyes searching his kin for a piece of her that he recognised.

"Did it work?" he asked.

She nodded again, but did not look up. "You saw. You know it did."

"Clearly, it worked too well." Azriel's deep voice sounded from the edge of the room, where the shadows slid over his shoulders like a set of armour. "None of us care what you do to Eris, Mor. I couldn't give a fuck how you punish that rat." Nesta and Elain both glanced at him, surprised to hear such bile in that steady voice. "But you left behind a child," he paused. Azriel's eyes were bright with rage. "That's what can't be forgiven."

Mor's head snapped up. Her facade began to crack as she glanced between them, understanding finally sinking in. Her family sat in judgement before her, there was no easy way out. She couldn't just say sorry and forget the mess. 

They weren't just angry. They were appalled - and there was a good chance they might stay that way.

"I never meant for it to go this far." she said, her voice wobbling. "It was so long ago now...I'd almost forgotten."

They were quiet for a time. Then it was Nesta's turn.

"So let me get this straight." She spoke quietly, sitting dangerously still. "You did all of this to get back at Eris, and then when it backfired, you left the child with the very villain who caused you such pain in the first place?"

Morrigan's eyes locked onto Nesta, who saw something like horror in her stare. That was what they had seen, she realised, whenever Mor spoke of Eris and his court these last few decades. Not hatred, but horror – at herself, her own actions.