A Court of Magnolias and Ash

Fifteen

Nesta:

Vibrant blue chains glimmered around my wrists, searing into my dirty skin. "Where are we going?" I asked through clenched teeth. The blood beneath my skin felt cold—sharp, like shards of ice pulsing through me.

"The throne room or the great hall—your preference, really." Eris didn't hold onto the chains, instead he stood beside me with a firm hand around my elbow.

"Why?"

The corner of his lips twitched, his uneasy smile vanished. "My father would like an audience with you."

I stopped, yanking my arm out of his grasp, "Eris, I am not a fool."

"You're certainly acting as such," he snapped, looking in both directions of the hall. Eris grabbed my arm, pulling me forward.

"Excuse me?" I seethed with narrowed eyes, jerking out of his grip once again.

"You were a fool to leave Velaris. A fool to think that you could survive on your own against creatures that have roamed these lands hundreds—some, thousands–of years." Eris barked as the color drained from his face, "you were protected and you left. That makes you a fool."

Heat moved across my cheeks.

Glaring, Eris' voice lowered, "a foolish girl with cauldron magic and a sharp tongue."

I charged forward but he winnowed just out of reach. The restraints glowed brighter as I fought to break them with magic, with fire. Nothing.

"Point proven," he laughed hoarsely, reappearing several feet down the hall. Eris crossed his arms, muscles stretching the sleeves of his brown jacket. "You're wrapped in faebane chains, you will not break free of them. Save your gods-damn energy for another fight."

"Prick."

"Witch."

With that lovely exchange, we continued walking down a long corridor made of bath stone and jeweled leaves. Carnelian, ruby and golden topaz...all jewels carved into falling leaves that tricked down the warm stone walls. It was absolutely mesmerizing, I had a hard time not being distracted by such beauty.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Eris observing me. His amber eyes shining as he carefully watched me. My attention slid to the iron and glass windows, they were too small, too thin to slip through. Not to mention we were probably too high up to jump from. Well, to jump and live.

The intricate filigree carpet ended just before a set of massive copper doors. Etched with their family tree, names of hundreds of Vanserras; they were soon to run out of room. Near the bottom, I saw Lucien's name was nearly scratched out. Only the L and N remained below Beron's name.

Copper doors opened, unveiling an even grander room. At the far end, a large dais carved out of mammoth-sized trees. Leaves stuck in a constant state of autumn, floated above them. The rest of them including the floor and second level were in the same bath stone as the hallway.

Goblets of raging fire lined the pathway to the farthest end. To where Beron and his wife sat patiently. Tapestries of their family history hung on the walls between copper and gold sconces. Majority of the tapestries were bloody battles, ending with heads on spikes or burning bodies. The bile in my stomach rose.

I hesitated moving forward; the room was full of nobility in the front—closest to the aisle. Their individual servants lining the back walls. And guards dressed in burnt orange and red, the Autumn Court colors, stood at every access way. More guards stood on the second level, overlooking the entire throne room—camouflaging into the autumn leaves effortlessly.