A Court of Death || ACOTAR

80

Astryn had agreed to go to the High Lord's meeting. She was already regretting it. They were leaving soon. Feyre looked exactly like the royalty she had become. She was every bit the High Lady. Astryn's gown was far more simple, pink satin pleasantly cool against her skin.

Nesta was dressed elegantly, and Astryn glanced towards Cassian but he had no reaction.

The group winnowed out in pairs, arriving in the Dawn Court. She and Azriel were the first to go, and moments later Rhys, Feyre, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta arrived. Amren was staying in the Night Court, trying to do some near impossible task that Astryn had already forgotten. They were led to a chamber where three other High Lords were already waiting. Thesan, High Lord of Dawn, Kallias, High Lord of Winter, and Helion.

Helion, who Astryn quickly realized was playing a role just as Rhys typically did. Gone were the kind eyes and warm smiles she was used to from the High Lord of Day, replaced with some cold sort of amusement as he surveyed them as if they were not friends, as if he hadn't shared Astryn's bed more times than either of them remembered.

Rhys and Thesan exchanged a few words, and the rest of the group aside from Feyre and Astryn bowed to Thesan. His look at Feyre snagged on the tattoo and then her crown. The look he gave Astryn darted from her Azriel and then back again, and then his lips tilted up into a smile.

"Are you here as part of the Night Court, or do you represent the Middle, monster charmer?" the High Lord of Dawn asked, the nickname sounding strangle like a compliment.

"Both," Astryn answered, though she genuinely hadn't considered that she even could represent the Middle. "I do have a vested interest in both territories." She waved vaguely towards Azriel as if to identify him as her vested interest in the Night Court. Azriel, in turned, grinned at the High Lord.

They greeted Kallias next, and that interaction was significantly more apprehensive after he heard her claim the Middle—a place that had never truly been claimed by anyone. It didn't help that she arrived here with Rhys. Mor drifted off to Viviane, Kallias's wife. Astryn hadn't known the pair were friends, which wasn't all that surprising considering she didn't know much at all about Mor.

Mor and Viviane chatted for a bit before Helion stepped forward, eyes on Feyre. Astryn didn't bother to pay much attention until Helion finally turned to her, eyes alight with some unfamiliar gleam.

"Hm," he hummed idly, "I suppose I can see how the monsters were so charmed." His eyes flicked towards Azriel before settling back on Astryn as he pointedly added, "charmed and tamed."

"I am rather charming, aren't I?" she mused, leaning slightly into Azriel's hand on the small of her back.

"Indeed," Helion murmured, lips tilted up into a smirk.

The conversation moved on. They talked about Nesta and Elain being turned Fae by the Cauldron. About Tamlin selling out his Court and Feyre's family. Astryn was quiet as talks progressed until Tarquin arrived. The High Lord of Summer entirely ignored everyone from the Night Court except Astryn. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment. She nodded back.

And then Beron and his sons arrived. Eris's gaze lingered on Astryn for a few moments, and Azriel gave him a warning glare. Eris only smirked in response, tipping his head towards her. She rolled her eyes in a dismissal.

"You look different," Beron commented, sneering at her, "gone feral after all that time in the Middle, daughter-in-law?" Eris stiffened, as if he knew his father had just made a potentially deadly mistake.

"Do not delude yourself into thinking I've forgotten that you still have a debt to be paid for what you did to my mate," Azriel spoke, his voice cold and deadly.

"Rhysand, is your overgrown bat threatening me?" Beron asked, and Azriel smiled.

"You ran from your own home and left your sons to die last time I set foot in your Court," the shadowsinger reminded the High Lord, "you are aware enough that I don't make threats."

"Oh, how valiantly you defend the King of Hybern's whore," Beron taunted, and it was not Azriel who spoke this time.

Furious yet somehow entirely poised, Tarquin said, "watch your mouth, Vanserra."

All heads turned towards him, looks of shock and apprehension, like no one was quite sure what they had missed. Astryn gave Tarquin a nod which he did not notice, his eyes instead remaining on the High Lord of Autumn in a silent stand off.

Finally, after a tense few moments Beron responded, "Cauldron, Tarquin, is she your whore too?"

"Father," Eris murmured, wondering who might snap and try to kill him here and now. Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian were the obvious contenders for it. And now apparently Tarquin. Even Helion was scowling at the High Lord of Autumn.

"When Hybern appeared on my shores, she showed up and slaughtered half of his legions without lifting a finger," Tarquin said blandly, "if you enjoy being alive, you'd be wise to consider that it's not her mate, or her brother, whose wrath you should fear."

Astryn smiled pleasantly as everyone looked to her now, as if they were only now registering the full weight of her power after Tarquin called it to attention. There was some secretive gleam in Helion's eyes, as if he was thoroughly enjoying everyone learning what he had already known for centuries.

Aside from her Night Court group, Helion, and Tarquin, the stares became assessing as she gave the leash on her power the slightest bit of slack. They searched for an end to it, to the masses of power from her bloodline coated with the power of the realm of the dead.

"Even if you don't particularly enjoy being alive," Rhys drawled, ending the tense silence, "I don't think you'd find much peace in the realm of the dead if you arrive after wronging my sister. The King of the Dead is very fond of her."

It was then that Beron finally had the good sense to alarmed, and then Astryn finally spoke as well, that pleasant smile still on her face.

"I don't plan to end your life, Beron, so you needn't worry about that," she told him, her voice carrying that soft, polite tone that had been beaten into her when she was young, "but Death is aware of what you did to me, and he has been waiting for you."