A Court of Light and Embers

Chapter Eight

Aelin and Feyre leapt across the roofs, using their Fae strength to propel themselves onto the tops of buildings.

They reached a tall structure with multiple windows climbing up the side. Grabbing onto the drain pipe, they shimmied down, pressing their ears to each window to see if anyone was inside.

"This one's empty," Aelin said, gesturing to a window on her left. "We should be safe for the night in here."

She flung out her foot, and the window smashed beneath the force of her kick. She swung inside, and Feyre followed suit.

The home was lavish and odd, with other-worldly looking possessions scattered across the wide rooms. Feyre quickly shut the curtains, and Aelin rushed into what she assumed was the bedroom.

"We need to burn our uniforms," Aelin said, grabbing a random assortment of clothes from the large closet and chucking them at Feyre. "We need to get rid of any evidence that we were here."

Feyre gestured to the attached bathroom. "You have the first bath. I'll try to find us something to eat."

Aelin walked into the bathroom. It was pretty and luxurious, with all the beauty supplies and body scents you could ever imagine.

Aelin plugged in the drain and began to fill the large tub with hot water, steaming wafting to the ceiling. She shucked off her pillowcase with disgust, burning it to ashes without a second thought. She climbed into the tub, moaning at the delicious heat.

Her bath was quick, but through. She washed her skin and hair, cleaned the wound her on thigh, and when done, dumped a bunch of essential oils into the tub to wash away any trace of her scent.

She slipped on the loose, soft pants and hooded sweatshirt, which fell to her knees. When she exited the bathroom, finger combing her wet hair, Feyre was in the kitchen, holding up two packets of food. She cringed. "It's the best I could find."

"Its better than nothing," Aelin said, dumping the noodles into a pot on the gas stove. She lit it with a flick of her hand, and Feyre poured some water into the pot.

While Feyre went for her bath, Aelin looked after their food, boiling the noodle soup until cooked then ladling it into bowls.

When Feyre returned dressed in something similar to Aelin, they both sat at the dining table. Aelin lit a few candles with a twitch of her fingers.

They ate their food in silence. Feyre ran a finger down the table, and lifted it to show Aelin. Dust coated the pad of her finger. "Looks like no-one has lived here for a while. It seems we have to whole place to ourselves."