Cursebreaker and Fireheart

Chapter 28: The Letters

"Well, this is going to be fun," Mor said sarcastically as Rhys and I finished writing five letters to all the High Lords but Tarquin, and one letter to Lucien. 

"We don't have much choice, Mor. They need to know what's happening." Rhys said. He snapped his fingers, and all the letters vanished. "Let's just hope they aren't so stubborn this time. We don't have a second to waste." 

"Which means they'll be fighting for days," I said, resting my chin on my hand. "Hopefully Lucien will be able to convince Vassa's..." I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "Master. To let her help us." 

Though the queen had asked for my help in breaking her curse, I was no closer than before to figuring out how. Maybe it would come to pass some time in the near future, what with all this talk of gods and magical Locks. If those things were possible, then breaking a curse on a mortal queen should be. 

A letter suddenly appeared on the table. Mor snatched it up, then growled and tossed it to me. It was from Beron, and only bore five words. 

"Bullshit. I will not meet." I read aloud. "Well, helpful as always, Beron." I scratched out another note, adding more threat than information. If Beron didn't agree to meet, the other High Lords might follow his example. 

"Why are we always the ones who have to call these?" Cassian complained from the window. "And why does it take so long for all you bastards to agree?" 

"Well, this time around, we've already suggested a meeting place," Rhysand said. 

"Really? Where?" 

"We spoke with Tarquin already. He agreed to host, if everyone accepts." 

"They'd better," Aelin said as she walked into the room. Even after being healed by Madja, she walked slowly and very light-footed. I didn't think she was in pain, exactly, just weakened. And she obviously did not like it. "It's much easier organizing meetings like this when you're friends with one of the most powerful kingdoms on the continent." 

"What, Adarlan?" I asked her. "The kingdom your friend Dorian rules?" 

"Yes. Together, we are an unbeatable pair of monarchs." Aelin came to sit beside me on the couch, flopping down with an oomph. 

"Well, around here, either they all agree or nothing happens. And I think we should worry more about Tamlin than Beron. Beron can be threatened. Tamlin cannot." Mor said. 

"I mean..." Aelin raised a hand, and it burst into flame. "I'm sure I could come up with some threat big enough. But the dolt should already feel threatened. A goddess has come to Prythian. More than one, actually, if Mala is really here." 

"It's not that Tamlin won't listen to reason. He just... has lost every reason he had to listen." Rhys said. He met my eyes. I almost felt guilty for not feeling guilty. I shouldn't, after all. Tamlin got what he deserved. He hurt me, betrayed me, treated me like an object that had been stolen from him. He didn't deserve my pity. But in getting back at him, I had ruined the Spring Court. It would never be what it was. 

But was that really so bad?

Aelin obviously felt no such conflict. She'd already stated many times that someone might need to stop her from setting him on fire the first time she saw him. 

"His life is a reason." Aelin scoffed. "The fool needs to forget what he's lost and move on with his life. He's practically immortal. He's wasting too much time on regret." 

"Well, we can't exactly tell him that, can we?" I said, rolling my eyes. Aelin turned to me, grinning. 

"Well, High Lady, if you winnowed me there, I'd gladly say it to his face. And a few other things."