A Court of Wind and Song

13: Guilt

Tamlin

Staring at the Ingysi, Feyre at my side, waiting for dusk to fall was all too familiar.

The last time we had been in this position, Leur had stepped foot into Prythian for the first time in 500 years. It felt so long ago, a hazy memory lost in everything that had occurred since the war. Those weeks locked in the Hybern dungeons, bargains and battles, death and loss, the slow rebuild after it all.

And now everything had come crashing down again.

Imagine my shock whenever Feyre, of all people, showed up at my door telling me that Solarea was in shambles. Nobody had any word at what was going on, who was doing this, what was even truly happening. All we knew was that we were setting up as much triage as we could. Relief tents, healers, workers cooking food and gathering water. My soldiers were ready to cross the Ingysi the second that they could.

I had sent messengers to every single court that was allied with Solarea, which was all of them aside from Autumn. Formally declared alliances that had been drafted after the war, a declaration that they would both send aid to each other when needed.

Not that it even needed to be documented.

My messengers had all returned with thousands upon thousands of soldiers, workers, and healers. Nobody had hesitated, not a single one of the High Lords. Not after the war.

Without Solarea, without Leur and Azriel- all of us would probably be dead or living under Hybern's rule. The amount of soldiers they had offered, the power they had used to wipe out the army that was ripping through us all, the fact that they had saved us from eminent death via the Cauldron. And they had not truly been involved, Leur and Azriel could have made the choice to keep Solarea out of it. Hybern was not gunning for them, hadn't even seen them coming.

And yet, they had still come.

Everyone owed them, and that debt would be repaid today.

The woods of my court were absolutely full of camps. I hadn't seen this place so occupied since the first war. Thousands of soldiers ready to cross into the unknown, even more healers and workers preparing for the arrival of refugees. Every court had sent what they could. Night, Day, Dawn, Winter, and Summer.

And now, there was nothing left to do but stand here and wait.

"Can I ask you a question?" Feyre's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

She was leaning against a tree, tattooed arms crossed. Blue eyes trained on me behind that cement shield, the sleeves of her sweater rolled up to her elbows, messy hair tied back. And I did not know what I felt when I looked at her.

"Sure." I shrugged, "Anything."

After the war, we hadn't spoken much. It was strange, how everything had occurred. I knew I had a lot to make up for before we could even think about being friends, no matter if she denied that I needed to apologize at all.

I had been a complete and utter asshole after Amarantha, and there was no excuse I could make to justify it. No matter if she was destined to end up with Rhys or not, nobody deserved what I had done.

"Why did you bring me here?" She said, her voice pensive, "Before... everything."

The answer to that question was complicated.

"Do you remember what happened the night before?" I said.

The fae that we had found, wings ripped from his body, brutalized and ripped half to pieces. It had been.... hard to watch.

Feyre just nodded.

"Amarantha dumped him here because she knew what had happened to Leur, or at least what everyone thought had happened." I breathed, "She thought that Leur's death was proof that I was not meant to be with anyone but her, and that was meant to be a reminder."