A Court of Dreams and Promise

Chapter Twenty-One

Velaria

Velaria crouched behind a bush, hoping that her dark leathers camouflaged her enough. This was risky, sneaking to the border of the Spring Court and its tunnels to see if she could use one of the openings to get to the Autumn Court, anywhere closer to her home. She would have to marry Tamlin eventually, but there had to be some way out of the foolish bargain she had made.

Her remaining shadows alerted her a couple of seconds before and Velaria looked up to see one of her shadows barreling through the trees. It was one of the ones she had left with Aurora.

The shadow whispered to her, singing its message. Without a second thought Velaria shifted into a songbird and flew off, back towards the Spring Court.

✿ ↬ - - - ↫ ✿

Mor

They had been trapped in the damp Night Court dungeons for a week, maybe more. The only way Mor had of passing time was counting the times they were delivered food. They were given a miniscule meal once a day, Mor had figured out, but sometimes she and Feyre slept through it, or she was too tired to count.

Mor's sanity had deteriorated for the first three days, but she had regained her strength. Her High Lady, however, wasn't doing quite as well.

Feyre was stuck in the corner, swaying back and forth with her knees to her chest, whispering the same two things over and over again: the names of her son and her mate.

Rhysand hadn't visited, nor had Cassian. Amren wasn't down there with him, making Mor assume that she had fled, and Azriel...no one had heard from him after he had vanished into the shadows.

"LET ME GO, YOU BASTARDS!" a voice shrieked as the fae was dragged down stairs. A guard, likely one of Keir's darkbringers, let out a grunt as the fae likely hit him.

A female, an Illyrian female, was dragged down the hallway until the darkbringers reached Mor and Feyre's cell. Their cell door was unlocked as the guard threw the female in.

Mor blinked. "Em?"

Emerie's body sagged with relief. "Mor. I'm so glad you're safe."

"Emere?" Feyre croaked, crawling over. She began to sob as she cupped the Illyrian's face. "Oh, sweet Emerie. How did you get put down here?"

"Rhys's lackeys have been searching my place daily," Emerie grumbled as Mor leaned her head on her shoulder. "Azriel came by the other day. The darkbringers scented him and put me here."

Feyre perked up. "Azriel was by your place? Was he safe?"

"He was perfectly alive and well," Emerie reassured her. "I told him some stories of Velaria that you told me, Mor, and told him what I knew about what was happening all over Prythian."

"Please, fill us in," Mor said, kissing Emerie's shoulder gently. "We have been in a cell for all of eternity."

Emerie inhaled sharply, closing her eyes. "Are you sure...it's not good news, any of it."

"Please, Emerie," Feyre said, eyes wide. "We want to know anything you have for us."

"Okay..." Emerie took a deep breath. "The High Lords have been locking up anyone who opposes their rule. Rhysand locked you two up, Thesan locked up his lover. Kallias and Thesan both closed their borders. Lucien tried to assassinate Helion and failed, and Helion rescued the Lady of the Autumn Court. Tarquin and Varian imprisoned Amren and Cresseida–"

"Amren got imprisoned, too?" Mor groaned. "We would be fucking doomed if not for Azriel and Velaria."

"Ah...where was I? Eris killed Beron–"