A Court of Innocents

17: Beauty

Mere days ago, I had discovered that Velaris had a southern twin. Windsor matched it in terms of beauty and extravagance. Both places looked like a canvas only someone like Feyre could think up, so full of color that it left you breathless. But as I stared down at the city now, I knew that no matter how long I spent in the Spring Court, Velaris would always be my first home. The first place in the entire world where I'd found refuge, where I was safe enough to be Yara Vanserra instead of pretending to be Yara Faechild.

The wind picked up, whistling through the mountain ranges and running along The House of Wind. I had found a hidden spot on the roof an hour ago and sat gazing at the city below. The sun was high behind the Sidra now, and its colors of yellows and oranges danced along the river's ripples.

I wondered how I'd ever had the strength to leave this place.

I wondered how I'd find the strength to do it again.

"Not thinking of jumping, are you?" Cassian's lighthearted voice came from behind me.

I turned to find his wings stretched wide as he landed just a few feet from me and moved to take a seat at the edge of the roof. "Why would you ask me that?" I frowned.

Despite the dark topic, he wore that characteristic lopsided grin as he said, "We all know the last thing you want is to become a... what did you call it in that meeting? A lab rat?"

I swallowed. The meeting had gone downhill after Tamlin announced his idea of taking me to Summer. He had spent the next several minutes arguing with Feyre and Rhysand over who should accompany me into the court, and I finally shut them all up by exclaiming that if I was going to be a lab rat in a foreign court, I was going to have a say in the details.

"I figured you might be thinking of a way out," Cassian continued. "Jumping off the roof would definitely be a strong place to start."

"Going to the Day Court isn't as good an idea as everyone thinks," I finally confessed.

He rested his palms against the cool stone of the roof and leaned back. "What makes you think that?"

"Tarquin..." I sighed. Ran a hand through my hair and tugged at the roots. Tried not to scream in exasperation.

Cassian leaned forward, his grin suddenly gone. "What is it?" That Commander's voice— dominant, assertive, protective.

But still, all I could bear to admit was, "He and I aren't on very good terms."

"You managed to make The Tool like you." He shrugged. "How hard can Helion be?"

I glared at him. "Tamlin isn't a tool."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You're the one who came up with that nickname, need I remind you. Since when did your opinion of him change?"

My gaze dropped to the city below us and the stunning river that ran threw it.

"Okay, what the hell happened this last week in Spring? You're different. Something about you seems... off."

I didn't know what had changed me. Being around Tamlin? Seeing Zachariah? Learning that I would have to die if I wanted to eradicate this plague completely? "A lot has changed, Cass."

A heavy silence fell between us for a minute. The only sound came from the whistling of the wind. My hair whipped around my face and neck until I finally huffed and threw it back into a messy bun. Cassian reached for his belt and handed me something. I looked to find a beautiful blade carved from Illyrian steel in his hand. The handle itself was made out of obsidian, and sprinkles of gold wove within it. An orange citrine gem had been crafted into the heart of the handle. The dagger was gorgeous.