A Court of Rage and Wishes

Chapter 18

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing ok in these corona-times. Since school has finished for the summer, expect some more frequent updates. For now, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

"What do you mean I'm not going back to Velaris?"

The high lord and high lady of the Night Court glanced at each other before Rhys spoke up. "Feyre and I were thinking, and we've decided it would be best to have you stay here until you're healed."

"Conveniently for both of us, I'm perfectly fine," Ariciya said, hands on her hips. "I can make the trip back to Velaris."

"Ariciya, no," he said. "You need to rest. Not only were you shot, the faebane is slowing down your healing. Don't think I didn't see you fall down the stairs earlier."

"I did not fall down the stairs earlier." She'd caught herself on the railing first.
Violet eyes bore down on her.

"Right," she muttered, crossing her arms. At least in the Summer Court, she'd be away from their overbearing presence. "Fine, I'll stay. What will happen to the girls?"

"Macha will handle everything in your absence," Rhysand responded, slinging an arm around Feyre's shoulders. A small smile graced his lips. "We'll send Azriel back to check on you in a few days. Let yourself rest, Cici. You've done enough."

Jaw clenched, she grit out a farewell before heading for the stairs. As much as she wished she didn't let Rhys have so much power over her, she couldn't deny her High Lord. Perhaps Tarquin was right; perhaps they didn't deserve her, and she wasn't quite sure she believed they did.

Ariciya sighed as she leaned against the railing of the balcony, dressed in a sea-foam green nightgown. Pillows of pink and streaks of orange filled the sky as the sun set on the horizon. As much as Tarquin had insisted that she could join for dinner, she couldn't bring herself to do it. No, she wouldn't fit in. Her own court didn't want her at the table. Why would Tarquin want her, a foreigner, at his? Sharp knocks on her door roused her from her thoughts.

She inhaled sharply as she opened the door to reveal her mate, though he'd changed into a more casual outfit.

"I just thought I'd check on you," he said, giving her a small smile. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, wincing as it came out with a sharper edge than she'd intended. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"You're always welcome here, Ariciya," Tarquin replied, blue eyes boring into hers. His posture softened as she smiled back, the familiar spark back in her eyes. He was afraid that it had been snuffed out. "I can't help but notice that you're dressed for bed. Is there anything I can get you before you turn in?"

Leaning against the doorframe, she mused, "You could come in." At his expression, she blushed and quickly added, "Or not. Sorry, I stepped out of line—"

"No, I'd love to," he interrupted, feeling his own cheeks heat up. "I just assumed that you'd want some time alone. You didn't come to dinner, so I had some sent up for you."

The act of kindness hadn't gone unnoticed; she'd been contemplating sneaking down into the kitchen for a bread roll when a tray of food arrived at her door. "Sorry I didn't come down, I wasn't feeling well."

His brow furrowed. "Because of Rhysand."

She stayed silent as she waved for him to enter, closing the door behind him before answering. "That, and just the whole getting-injured-in-battle thing. Well, mostly Rhysand."

Wordlessly, Tarquin wrapped her arms around her. Ariciya melted into his warmth, arms coming up to hold him close. For a moment, everything faded away until it was just them and the setting sun.

They could've stayed like that for hours, and she wouldn't have minded.

It wasn't your fault, Tarquin said through the bond.

Then why am I still here?

Do you not want to be here?

"I do want to be here," she answered aloud, pulling away to look up at him. "I just...always thought I'd be here under different circumstances. That I'd be here on my own terms, not because Rhysand said so."

Tarquin chuckled softly, pressing his lips to her temple. "Well since you're here and they're away, don't you think you should enjoy it? They can't stop you, not here." He laid a kiss on her cheek. "And as far as I'm concerned, the workers in this palace have been told to treat you as their High Lady."

Their breaths mingled as he stopped at the corner of her lips, noses brushing as he waited for a response. He knew it may have been too much to ask, and too quickly, but he wanted to make it known that she was more than welcome in his court. Too often, his advisors told him he was too trusting, and that one day it would get him in trouble. But after seeing Ariciya in the palace and exploring Adriata, he knew what he wanted to do.

"You know that no one knows about us, right?" she asked, pecking his lips. "What will people think if they realize I'm your mate?"

He hummed softly, kissing her. "That I'm lucky to have such a brilliant, strong warrior in my life? That although we are equals, they would want you to lead them to battle? It would be scandalous."

"Only if you make it scandalous," she teased, tugging him close by his shirt. "It doesn't have to be, though."

"You want to give it a try?" he asked.

"You did say that I should enjoy myself," she pointed out. "I don't see why not. I might be here for a while. And if I have ties here, that means I'll be back much more often."

"You're right," he said, grinning. Unable to help himself, he kissed her forehead again. "Would you like to stay with me tonight? Forgive me if I'm overstepping, I just want to spend more time with you. And my bed is much more comfortable, if I do say so myself."

At her nod, he winnowed them back to his room. Unlike the House of Wind, the palace didn't have any restrictions on the use of magic.

The first thing that caught her eye was the view. They must've been in one of the towers, because she could see miles and miles of ocean and sky. Yet as she stared out at the horizon, she knew that the city of Adriata laid below.

The next thing she saw was the bed, with its seafoam green sheets and pearlescent silk blankets. Driftwood and coral adorned the dressers and tables. At one end of the room was a circular pool, a window protecting it from the wind. The water was crystal clear and undisturbed, shining like glass.

As if he read her mind, Tarquin said, "The pool was already here when I moved in. The magic that maintains most of the palace takes care of it, though I've never been in it myself."

"It seems a bit redundant for the High Lord of Summer," she replied, nudging his side. "You have a whole ocean right there, and you have an indoor pool."

Chuckling softly, he responded, "Well, we can't do everything we want on the beaches."