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Chapter Forty Six

Rhysand

I couldn't say I wasn't surprised when a knock came at the front door of the townhouse and I opened it to find Lucien standing on the steps. He asked to speak to me alone about Tamlin, and after considering his request for a long moment, I invited him inside. I would have much preferred if he'd come to complain about Azriel's continued presence in their lives as it had plagued my mind often since the day he showed up with Lilianna at the chateau. On that matter I could be sympathetic while keeping my own feelings to myself.

Tamlin, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. Although Wren assured me Clarissa wasn't pregnant when Brie killed her during the battle, I still felt the need to distance myself from him and his recovery. In his current frame of mind he could easily make accusations in front of the wrong people, and with no body and only Wren's word that she wasn't carrying his child, the other Courts might be swayed into believing we covered up the murder of his son.

Lucien's golden eye whizzed as we strode through the house to the room that had been my office before we moved, no doubt searching the townhouse for Feyre and the rest of our family. "They've gone shopping for the baby," I supplied, glancing over my shoulder at him. "We'll be returning home at the end of the week so in the future if you need to speak to me, that is where you'll find me."

He didn't respond, not that I expected him to, and yet for some reason his silence set me on edge. Pushing open the door to what was now a library filled from floor to ceiling with vast collection of books from both the mortal and Fae Realm, I motioned for him to take a seat on the leather couch while I sat opposite of him on one of the two matching chairs.

"On Tamlin's behalf, I spoke to the Fae now residing in the Dawn Court," I spoke up again when he remained silent and stone-faced instead of telling me why he'd made the trip to the Night Court. "Every family has agreed to return to their homes in the Spring Court. Cassian and Mor will provide protection for them on the journey home."

"How did you get them to agree to return to the Spring Court?"

"Careful, Lucien," I warned, hearing the mistrust and accusation in his tone. "It was a very costly endeavor to persuade his people to return home so a little gratitude would be nice."

"I don't recall ever asking you to throw money at anyone to get them to come home, Rhysand. The poorest amongst them with be grateful to you – where do you think their loyalties will lie in the future. With Tamlin or with the High Lord that showered them with gold coins?"

I picked off a piece of imaginary lint from my black pants. "Or they could see it as the Night Court trying to make amends for the wrongs committed against their High Lord." I waved a hand dismissively. "Is he getting worse – is that why you're here?"

"I don't know," he admitted after a long pause, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I touched his shoulder and he warned me never to do it again – he said that any male who touched him risked his own life. He meant it and that worries me."

"With everything he has gone through, I would be surprised if he didn't feel that way," I said, recalling the horrible memories I'd seen when I slipped into his mind. "If you feel as if this is not a temporary problem, there are potions that would dull his memories – they would still be there, but cloudy. They would no longer be at the forefront of his mind influencing his every move."

"Would there be side effects?"

"I would have to speak to a healer to answer that question," I answered truthfully, but from the concern in his tone and from the way he didn't immediately turn down my suggestion, I knew Tamlin was in bad shape. "We don't need to decide anything right this moment. Azriel has informed me that the vines and thorns are gone, and now that his mate is with him, he could come around on his own. Give him a few weeks and if in that time his condition worsens, we'll revisit idea of medicating him."

"He wants to meet with you – alone," he said, lifting his head to look me in the eye. "He wouldn't say why, but he wants to meet with you the day after tomorrow at the Middle Lands."

"Should I be concerned?" I said, causally resting back against the cushioned backrest, a movement at odds with seriousness of the situation.

"You'd be a fool not to be."

And there it was, the truth stretching outward to fill the air around us with dread. Feyre's calming voice whispered down our mate bond asking me what was wrong. I quickly assured her I was fine in a teasing tone, but I wasn't even close to being fine. I was the most powerful High Lord ever created and a highly trained Illyrian warrior, but what most Fae seemed to forget was that Tamlin could easily crush me with his massive strength. If I fought fair against him, I would lose, and only Lucien seemed to realize that very real fact.

"When does he want to meet?"

"When the sun has reached its highest point in the sky."

"Clever, choosing a time when his powers are at their greatest while mine are at their weakest."

"In his frame of mind, I highly doubt he took that into consideration."

"I'll be there," I said after a lengthy pause. If for no other reason than to see for myself the threat he now represented, I needed to attend the meeting. "Feyre will be home soon," I added, rising to my feet as a clear indication that the discussion was over. "Under the circumstances, I don't think she'll be happy to see you so it would be for the best if you left."

"For what it's worth," he said as he got to his feet, "I believe you are trying your damnedest to help him, and hopefully someday he'll see that you are no longer his enemy."

XxXxXxXx

Not long after Lucien left, Feyre returned to the townhouse with Elain and Mor, the latter only staying long enough to drop several packages on the chair in the living room before hurrying away to join Cassian in making preparations for the journey to the Spring Court. Unaware of the tension in the room and of how Feyre kept a watchful eye on me, Elain went on and on about the clothes they bought for our son, making certain I saw every last outfit before she finally headed upstairs to freshen up for dinner.

"Out with it," Feyre said the moment the door upstairs clicked shut. "Something happened – you're upset and you're trying to keep it from me."

"I'm not trying to keep anything from you." With a gentle smile, I lowered the shields within my mind, and let her see the memory of my conversation with Lucien. Her anger surged through me as she listened to Lucien warn me that I should be concerned about meeting Tamlin, and she balked at the idea of him being stronger than me. "I have to go to this meeting, Feyre darling."

"No," Lips pursed, she shook her head, "no, we have done enough to help rebuild his Court. The debt has been paid." And he is not stronger than you, she added down our shared bond. "If you're worried about his mental state and what he might do then speak to a healer about the potions you spoke of – Lucien or Brie can slip the potion into his drinks or food to dull his wits so he won't be a threat to Prythian."

"Never once have I tried to stop you from doing what you felt you needed to do for our friends and family. No matter how dangerous or even reckless some of your actions have been, I always trusted in you. I'm asking you to do the same for me now."

"I trust you completely, Rhys." She got up from her seat on the couch, and moved to sit on my lap, her arms circling my neck. "It's him I don't trust. If he ever harmed you, I'd –"

"The sad truth is that he could forget all about this meeting before the time comes, and I will be left sitting alone," I said, and in all likelihood that could be the case. "But make no mistake about it, I will show up even if he doesn't."

"Then I'll go with you," she said with a determined tilt of her chin. "I don't care if he said he wants to meet with you alone, I'm going."

"No." I rested my hand on her expanding stomach, and our little boy kicked in response, bringing a smile to my face. "I need you to let me do this alone and trust that I will be fine."

"We will never truly be able to live our lives in peace while he is still breathing. There will always be something – some problem that he has caused directly or indirectly that we will have to take care of."

"Some Fae would say the same about us," I gently reminded as I lightly caressed her cheek. "I want this alliance to hold strong, Feyre. If that means meeting with Tamlin on his terms, I am more than prepared to do that. However – however, that does not mean I won't use every last bit of power at my disposal to protect myself if in his madness he attacks me."

"If he hurts you – if I find even a scratch from those claws of his on your body, I'll tear him to shreds," she warned and I believed her. She was fierce and uncompromising in protecting what was hers, and I almost pitied Tamlin for earning himself such a deadly enemy.

My lips brushed against hers in a feather-soft kiss. "He's our ally."

"No, he's your ally – maybe. I would much sooner trust Beron's honor and promises of a peaceful alliance than Tamlin's. Yet, for your sake, I hope he will not fail as miserably in this endeavor as he has done in everything else in his life."

"That is my hope as well."

We left it at that, and having agreed to disagree, that was the last we spoke of the meeting with Tamlin. Elain kept the conversation going at dinner, sharing the news she received from Azriel. Not surprising to either Feyre or myself, Beron was playing games with them. When they arrived at the Autumn Court, they were informed that he was away on business, and Eris made it clear that if they left before speaking to him, their meeting would be put on hold indefinitely. Eris went on to explain that it could be days or weeks before his High Lord could make time in his busy schedule to squeeze them in for a brief meeting.

I received nearly the same letter later that night with the added note that he had spoken to Lucien's mother – had seen for himself the bruises Beron left on her body as he no longer felt the need to hide his abusive treatment toward her. On our behalf, he offered her sanctuary in Velaris. I would have done the same, and yet she refused.

"He knows the truth about Lucien," Feyre said, rereading the letter as she paced back and forth in our bedroom. "What are the chances that he also knows that Lilianna is Lucien's mate?"

"He has spies just like we do – it's possible Beron could have discovered that she is his mate, and they are keeping her and Azriel there under false pretenses."

"We need to send for them – to make it clear they are in danger," she said, studying the letter again before taking a seat beside me on the bed. "Azriel doesn't know that Helion is Lucien's father. We kept that information to ourselves, and that secrecy could be the thing that gets them killed. Send Cassian to bring them home."

I was silent for a long moment as I spoke into Cassian's mind, sharing with him our concerns for Azriel and Lilianna's safety and ordering him to delay his trip to the Spring Court until after he retrieved them from the Autumn Court. His response came almost immediately, a promise that he wouldn't fail to bring them home unharmed.

"It's done," I informed her, and she sighed in relief. "With our shared knowledge of the truth, we could be reading more into his letter and getting worked up over nothing. If Azriel thought they were in immediate danger, he wouldn't have stayed. For now, we'll consider this a precautionary measure, and continue to keep this to ourselves until we find out for a fact that Beron knows Lucien isn't his son. Once the truth is out, it could cost many innocent Fae their lives so we have to be absolutely certain."

"Helion needs to know the truth about his son."

"It's no secret how badly Beron has treated Lucien – what you are suggesting could very well lead to another war. I wouldn't hesitate to go to war over the callous treatment of my son by another Court." I shook my head. "No, until his mother confirms that he is without a doubt Helion's son, we can't interfere. There are some similarities between the two of them, but if we are wrong, we would be directly responsible for ruining many lives."

"Then I will speak to her as one mother to another to learn who Lucien's true father is."

"Feyre, I don't –"

"I need to do this in the same way as you feel you need to attend the meeting with Tamlin," she cut in, fingers tracing along the sensitive spot on my wings. "When we learned of the possibility that Helion was Lucien's father, we left it unfinished all-the-while knowing that his mother was being abused by Beron. Everything she has endured from that moment onward, we allowed to happen. I have to right that wrong, Rhys. I would not be worthy of the title of High Lady otherwise."

"Your uncompromising bravery sometimes terrifies me." After a long pause, I nodded. "I don't know what good it will do – she's kept this secret for a long time for good reason, but if you believe you can persuade her into trusting you with the truth, I'll support you in your decision."

"And that is one of the many reasons why I love you so much…."

The following day went by in a flurry of activity. Cassian returned home with Azriel and Lilianna in tow just before dawn, and the latter of the two was fuming that we stepped in to possibly save them from a trap. Even after I explained the potential danger, and Azriel voiced his concerns about the situation, she refused to believe she couldn't sway Beron into falling in line with her plans for the new world she wanted to create. Fearless as ever, she wanted to return to the Autumn Court immediately, and it took Feyre hours to talk her into waiting until the threat had passed before making the trip again.

There was bravery such as my mate possessed, and then there was blind recklessness and the young queen possessed both in spades. Without strong guidance, which I feared Lucien could not handle himself, her reign as queen would come to a short and violent end. To appease her, I suggested Azriel take her to the Day Court to speak with Helion instead. My suggestion served my purposes as well. While there, Azriel would ferret out information as to whether or not Helion had any contact with Beron in recent months that might have resulted in the proof Beron needed that Lucien wasn't his son.

With new wardrobe acquired, clothing that resembled the attire worn in the Day Court, Azriel and Lilianna left shortly after dinner. Cassian and Mor headed out shortly after them to escort the High Fae and lesser faeries home to the Spring Court. Feyre spent the rest of the evening with Elian, trying to coax her out of the sudden mood she'd fallen under the moment Azriel left, and by the time she came to bed she was both mentally and physically exhausted. I held her all night, wrapped within the warm cocoon of my wings.

The next day I arrived at the castle in the Middle Lands well before noon to check for any possible signs of a trap. Other than the fact that the servants of the castle hadn't been made aware of our meeting, nothing raised my suspicions. As they quickly set about preparing for Tamlin's arrival, I wandered through the empty halls of the castle, and although I told them it wasn't necessary, the savory aroma of food being prepared soon wafted through the air. As it was a neutral meeting place for every High Lord, the gray stone walls were left unadorned out of fear of showing any partiality to one Court over another. I often joked that there was more color in a graveyard than the Middle Lands, and sadly it was true. Those who lived in these lands wore shades of muted gray, and much like the barren castle, their homes were left empty of color. Yet, not one of them seemed to mind their drab existence.

I returned to the meeting hall shortly before noon to find the table laden with bowls of exotic fruit, platters of various kinds of meat, steaming vegetables, and an array of delicious desserts, some of the latter I would bring home to Feyre. Some of the best cooks and bakers in Prythian resided in the Middle Lands, and I smiled at the thought of the look on her face when she sampled each pastry.

A half hour passed, the untouched food growing cold as I sat and waited for Tamlin. Then finally he arrived dressed in a casual loose-fitting white shirt and tan pants while I dressed in my best suit for the meeting. His disheveled golden hair fell in loose waves around his shoulders, a smudge of dirt on his right cheek. Honestly, if I didn't know he was a High Lord, I would have mistaken him for a commoner. Someone used to getting his hands dirty – which they were.

"My apologies," he said, taking a seat at the opposite end of the long table. His usual spot, the table in front of him scratched with claw marks he made in anger at one point or another. "I – forgot I called for this meeting. I was –" he waved a hand over himself, "planting vegetables."

"It's an important task," I said, resting back in my chair. For all he had endured over the past few months, he appeared unscathed. No scars marred his perfection complexion, and yet it only took one look into his green eyes to see the damage done to him. "If this meeting is keeping you from it, we can reschedule for a later date."

"No, that's unnecessary," he said, his attention catching on one of the pretty servant girls entering the hall. She made her way to the table to pour us each a glass of wine. He caught hold of her wrist, and I sat forward, ready to intervene. "That's not necessary – we can pour our own wine and serve ourselves lunch."

My eyes slid to the frightened girl then trailed downward to his hand on her wrist. His grip was loose, not threatening in the slightest, but like everyone else, she had heard the stories of the cruel High Lord of the Spring Court and she was terrified of upsetting him. "Let go of her wrist, Tamlin," I said in a casual tone. "I know it is not your intent, but you are scaring her."

His hand fell instantly away from her, coming to rest on his lap. Easily controlled – it was too easy. The other High Lords would run right over him if they ever learned of how easily he could be controlled. "I'm sorry," he uttered, a whipped dog in every sense of the word, and the girl gasped in surprise. "I just didn't –"

"Tamlin," my tone turning stern, and with one look from me, the girl scurried out of the hall. "You are forgetting who you are – you do not apologize to anyone. Ever. Is that clear?"

He was silent a long moment then he shook his head. "When I was Clarissa's slave – no, not her slave…her husband, she would make me serve dinner to her guests every night. They would spill food on the floor just to watch me get down on my hands and knees to clean it up. No one will ever serve me again, Rhysand. I made that vow every night while I lived there, and I will keep it for as long as I live."

Leaning forward in my seat, I rested my arms on the table and clasped my hands. "There is a profound difference between what you were forced to do for Clarissa's amusement and what that girl does to provide for her family. She is being paid well to provide a service as were the males and females that worked in your manor. There is nothing wrong in that – without this job her family could go hungry. Is that what you want?"

"N-no, it's not," he stammered, uncertainty filling his tone and expression.

I bobbed my head at the crystal decanter of wine. "Pour yourself a drink, Tamlin. It'll help calm your nerves." He obeyed as I knew he would. Like a small child, he now looked to others to make every decision for him, leading me to believe I made the right move in making Lucien Lord Protector of the Spring Court. He's not a threat to anyone, I whispered through Feyre's mind, knowing she would worry about me until I contacted her. If I ask it of him, he'd step down and let Lucien manage the Spring Court. Perhaps that would be for the best, and yet I'm still hesitant to do so. As I waited for her to respond, I used my power to fill his plate with food. "You look as if you haven't eaten in days if not longer – eat something and then we'll talk."

He dug the roasted chicken with his dirty hands, juice spilling down his chin. Feyre slipped into my mind at that moment and I allowed her to see through my eyes that her fears were unwarranted. For the sake of the Fae of the Spring Court, convince him to let Lucien rule in his stead, she whispered with a hint of sympathy for the male she once loved. Wren is here for my monthly checkup, I'll speak to him about the potion you spoke of. I know you are struggling with this, but it is the most compassionate thing you can do for him under the circumstances.

Thank you, Feyre. Always knowing exactly what I needed to hear at precisely the right moment was just another reason why I loved her so much. I'll be home by dinner.

She slipped out of my mind with a sensual brush against my shield, a promise of the night awaiting me when I returned to Velaris, and I couldn't help but smile. It faded away as I watched Tamlin devour everything on his plate as if he was afraid he wouldn't eat again for a long time.

"Lucien said you had something you'd like to discuss with me?" I prompted, motioning for him to wipe the chicken grease off his face. As he grasped hold of the napkin and scrubbed it across his face, I added, "It's okay if you don't remember why you called for this meeting, Tam. For now I think it's a good progress that we're sitting at the same table without threats of bloodshed coming from either of us."

"You know what I figured out during my captivity?" he said, casually tossing the napkin on the table. When I shook my head, he went on to say, "It's all a game, Rhys. All of it. Sometimes you win and sometimes, though rarely, I win. Or Hybern wins. And I'd be remised if I failed to mention Amarantha and Clarissa. They've won their fair share of times, but for someone to win there has to be a loser. If that's true, which I believe to my marrow it is, then the only smart move is not to play the game. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Are you saying you want to step down as High Lord of the Spring Court?"

"If only it was that easy," he laughed almost hysterically ending on a grin. "There is no one to take my place – I have no heirs or family."

"You could always appoint Lucien as Lord Protector of your Court to make decisions on your behalf," I said, hoping that if I planted the idea in his mind, he would follow my advice. "You've found your mate, Tamlin, and that is more valuable than any amount of power our kind possesses. If that is what you want, to be free of the game, then walk away. Retire to the countryside and spend your days with Brie."

"Lord Protector of the Spring Court," he repeated, scratching at his jaw. "It has a nice ring to it, but Lucien has no interest in ruling over any Court. He's made that fact very clear numerous times."

"Perhaps if we both spoke to him, made it sound as if it was only temporary, he'd consider it."

A pleasant smile lit up his face, but failed to reach the depths of his green eyes. "I'll take it under consideration."

"I want this alliance to work between our two Courts," I said as I poured myself a drink, taking a long swallow of the sweet liquid before I continued. "Your Court is vulnerable – it could fall under attack again unless we work together to strengthen your defenses."

"What would you suggest? At least a third of my sentries succumbed to sickness while they lived in the Border Mountains, and as of this moment I don't have the number of males I would need to rebuild my army. It would take years, Rhysand."

"That is why, for you, an alliance with the Night Court is so important. We could protect your borders and help train new sentries. In turn, you would pay their wages – they would be working for you not the Night Court."

"What do you stand to gain from this alliance? From where I sit, it sounds very one-sided."

"It is my hope to set up a trade route through your lands to the Mortal Realm," I stated simply, resting back in my seat once more. "All I'm asking for is free passage through your lands once Lilianna has opened up the border."

"That seems fair," he said after mulling it over for several long moments. "I will agree to it."

"Good," I said, holding his gaze, and surprisingly he didn't look away or lower his head as I expected. "Did you remember why you called this meeting?"

"I never forgot why I asked to meet with you," he said, straightening in his chair. "As I said before – it's all a game, Rhysand. Win or lose, you have to play, right?"

"You're going to have to explain yourself, Tamlin, as I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

Tapping at his temple, he grinned. "Brie balanced out the playing field. My beautiful, beautiful mate bestowed a gift upon me during the mating ritual – a small kernel of her power. I felt different after the ritual, but I thought at the time that it was how every male felt after his mate accepted him. Before we made love, I spoke to her of my desire to free every slave in Prythian, and she found my cause so worthy, she bestowed the power of keeping the mind from being invaded, upon me." He tapped his temple again. "You can't get inside my mind and shut me down any longer – go ahead, try."

"This was all an act?" I said, lips pressing into a thin line. "All of it – from the moment you walked in the door?"

"I learned from you, Rhys." In his chair, he mocked a bow, and my eyes narrowed on him, trying to find a way into his mind, to no avail. "Can't get in – can you?"

"You knew I'd already made Lucien Lord Protector, didn't you?" I said, instead of responding to his taunt.

"I only needed to hear you say it to confirm my suspicions." He smiled, lifting his glass as if to make a toast. "I haven't lost my mind – or at least I didn't lose it permanently."

"What do you want?"

"I want us to work together to end slavery in Prythian. Our fathers freed the humans, sending them back to their land a long time ago, but there are still slaves in almost every Court in Prythian. A trade route is a nice idea, but together we could achieve something great, Rhysand." He held my gaze his eyes startlingly clear with no trace of madness within them. "If what you've said about being Amarantha's slave is true then help me. I don't think it was a coincidence that we both were given a unique insight into the lives of those we have overlooked all these long years. We can make a difference in so many Faes' lives if we work together to put an end to it."

"You want me to free the slaves that dwell within the Court of Nightmares." It wasn't a question and yet he nodded in response. "It can't be done, Tamlin. My hold over the Fae living in the Hewn City is tenuous at best. If they saw me as anything other than the cruel and brutal High Lord, they would turn on me. Trust me – you don't want them to escape from their captivity in the Court of Nightmares. They would attack Velaris and then work their way outward from there."

"That's an excuse," he said, taking a long swallow of his wine. "Either you're the most powerful High Lord ever created or else you're a pathetically weak male at the whims and mercies of your subjects. Which is it?"

"It can't be done," I said again, wishing he had lost his mind as this quest of his would end up in massive bloodshed. "You saw the Darkbringers in the battle with Hybern. There are worse things under the mountain than them. You think you would be every slave's savior, but you're wrong. It is an ugly thing – slavery, but there is no way to abolish it completely in Prythian."

"You're wrong, Rhysand. There hasn't been a slave in the Spring Court since I became High Lord. Everyone was paid a fair wage for the work they did, and they never once feared their masters would beat them bloody if they failed to complete any given task by the end of the day – they never once feared they'd be raped by countless males." He let loose a heavy breath. "You have to stop picking and choosing who gets to have the benefit of your compassion, Rhys. If it sickened you even in the slightest to watch Fae being tortured for your entertainment – it needs to stop. That is a goal we should be trying our damnedest to achieve during our reign as High Lords."

"You're asking me to go to war with every Court including my own, Tamlin. You can't ask that of me – you can't. I have a child on the way and a mate to think of. I'm sorry, but the answer has to be no."

"No," he sighed, "I'm sorry. The battles will come, I promise you that much. I will raise an army of my own, and I will fight my way through every single Court until I reach your door. And the thing is that when Fae someday speak of the war to end all wars, you will be seen as the villain of the stories. I don't wish that upon you…I had hoped our shared experiences and the truth of what truly happened to your mother and sister would have put us squarely on the same side. But by continuing to condone slavery within your Court, you aren't just pretending to be evil – you are an evil person pretending to be a good male."

He winnowed away before I could once again defend my stance on his foolhardy mission to go to war with every Court within Prythian. It wasn't that I didn't agree with him – it just couldn't be done. Like the first war, this war he wanted to wage would last for years, killing many innocent people, and he would lose in the end. For his sake and Brie's, I needed to stop him before he got himself killed in the noble pursuit of a free Prythian.