A Court of Bastards [ACOTAR]

Chapter 49

It wasn't long before Xander came to seek her out after the summit had ended. Fiona was doling out the midday rations, her mind set with a kind of clarity she hadn't enjoyed since long before Velaris fell. She often cherished her time on kitchen duty, when her only job was to give, and see relief bloom on the faces of the survivors when she approached.

Of course, after a morning spent with her estranged mother, it only seemed fitting to have even that small pleasure taken from her.

Fiona was passing a steaming hot bowl to a father and his child when the male's eyes widened suddenly, staring past her shoulder.

"Your grace." His voice trembled as he bowed his head, dropping to one knee. His child copied suit, staring up in awe from his meek stature. Fiona was not surprised to see Xander hovering by her shoulder when she turned, nodding graciously to his subjects.

Ignoring the hushed sense of awe murmuring through the gathered refugees, Fiona set her lips in a firm line. "I'm busy," she muttered, shuffling along the queue. He only remained quietly beside her as she bent to ladle another bowl of soup into the outstretched hands of a withered old lady.

"Azriel told me what you're planning."

Fiona pursed her lips. "And why did he do that?"

The queuing refugees were now attempting to bow to Xander despite their various injuries, no longer interested in their rations. One hobbled Illyrian boy even shot to his feet, knocking the remaining flagon of soup right out of her hands. 

Xander's discomfort was palpable as she bent to retrieve it. "He told me because it's his job. He's my spymaster."

"Right," Fiona snorted as she stood upright, brushing bits of stew from her apron. "Well then, my Lord - May I please have permission to go to the Autumn Court to determine Eris' loyalty?"

"No."

Eyebrows raised, Fiona finally turned to face him. Xander took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, gearing up for an argument. But before he could get a word in, she was storming off toward the catering tent, untying her apron as she went. He followed nervously behind, and it was for his sake that Fiona slammed the flagon down on the counter with a little more force than necessary.

She whipped around with a staunch look, crossing her arms. "You're not my High Lord."

"No?" This coaxed a wry smile from the male, who tipped his head to one side. "Then who is?"

She didn't bother with an answer, marching past him to the woods as Xander followed, nodding awkwardly and thanking the people who scurried out of their way. 

"You're right, Fiona." He admitted, keeping pace beside her. "You don't answer to me. I won't try to order you about, but as long as you're doing this on behalf of the Night Court, I am well within my rights to express my disapproval."

Fiona lengthened her strides, trying and failing to brush him off.

"We haven't heard anything from Autumn in weeks, no one has been able to get a look in, and their security is tighter than ever," Xander reasoned, ducking the branch she attempted to whip into his face. "Eris will surely be expecting your return. Don't you think it could be a trap?"

"Don't you think I can handle myself if it is?"

Xander caught her wrist and pulled her gently to a halt. "I'm not saying that."

The world slowed as the sounds of the warcamp melted away beyond the forest. The cool breeze caressed her skin, playing in the leaves as Fiona attempted to organise her thoughts with a few deep breaths.