Tamlin

"Jade or peridot, my lord?"

I was interrupted from answering my valet by a long, drawn-out sigh. I raised my eyes to meet Lucien's scowl from where he lingered in the doorway.

"I don't like it," he said shortly.

"You don't have to," I told him, returning my attention to the cuff links. "The jade will be fine, Sorin."

Truth be told, I was nervous about the event tonight, but I could scarcely afford to show the trepidation I felt to the rest of my Court. I had been walking a tenuous line, making excuses over the last month to avoid meeting one-on-one with Amarantha, and for all she showed no ill will on the matter, I had already borne witness to her exceptional ability to carry a grudge.

Attending tonight was a matter of mitigation. Away from my lands, buffered by the six other Courts, I would be able to more fully assess Amarantha's intentions, see if she truly had changed as she claimed. The Amarantha I had known wore cruelty like a cape, surpassing even the callous disregard of my father and twisted brutality of my brothers. A shudder overtook me as one of my earliest memories surfaced.

A sharp, shrill scream diverted me from my course toward the stables. It was coming from the maze of gardens farthest from the house, and I let that slight sense of more that I'd begun to notice, that my brothers whispered angrily about when they thought I couldn't hear, guide me to its source.

I reached the clearing and froze. The source of the scream was a young human slave about my own age—certainly no more than twelve. She was being pushed around a circle of jeering males in Hybern livery, her clothes already half-torn and angry welts covering the bare skin showing through. Overseeing it all was Amarantha, my father's guest from Hybern. As I watched, another shred of clothing ripped and the corresponding welt appeared, caused not by the soldiers but by magic, the source of which could only be one person.

"Tamlin!" she greeted warmly, without pausing in her sport. The girl's shrieks pounded against my ears and I wrenched my gaze away.

"Th-That's my father's p-property," I stammered.

Amarantha laughed merrily. "Oh, he won't mind. It is the duty of a good host to provide for all one's guests' needs, and my guards are in need of entertainment. It does get so dull here, don't you think? In fact, why don't you join us?"

"N-no!" I blurted, stumbling back a step and then turning to sprint back the way I'd come. The screaming had stopped, and I didn't dare try to imagine why as the slave disappeared under a press of bodies.

I loosed a private sigh of my own as the Court assembled in the foyer below, awaiting my entrance. At least there were no more slaves for her to torment here. But I'd heard enough stories that far surpassed my own relatively friendly encounters with Amarantha to doubt that even five centuries were enough to soften Hybern's most hardened general.

I descended the staircase and took my place at the head of my Court, winnowing us all effortlessly to the base of the Mountain. A string of faelight trailed ominously underground, and my nerves mounted as we followed the path deep into the Mountain's heart.

The atmosphere of the feast chamber was dismal, bordering on the macabre, the air stale and oppressive this far underground. It reminded me of when my brothers had sent me through the Autumn tunnel on a dare and then blocked me in. I'd been too afraid to emerge in the rival territory and spent hours in the airless dark. I suppressed a shudder as I dismissed my retinue and approached our host.

"Tamlin, darling," Amarantha cooed, extending a hand, which I dutifully kissed. "Such a delight to finally see you again, after all these centuries!"

"My apologies it could not have been sooner," I agreed politely.

Her look was knowing. "Your lands must be troublesome indeed, to have kept you so occupied these last weeks."

I bristled. "No more than usual. I'm afraid you've caught us at a bad time, that's all."

"Of course," she demurred, though the spark never left her eyes. "And I am so happy to have you here tonight. That we might discuss more of the treaty between our lands. I'm sure you know the other High Lords have already signed?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

I hid my surprise. All six? "I reviewed the terms you sent. They were… agreeable. My concern, of course, lies in the history of… conflict between the parties," I said carefully.

Amarantha laughed. "Yes, it is a wonder what a few centuries will do. I myself have been told I am an entirely new person, as I'm sure you would have seen for yourself, had your prohibitive schedule not prevented us from meeting sooner. Really, Tamlin, if I weren't so convinced of your utmost integrity, I might think you'd been avoiding me." She looked coyly up at me from beneath her lashes.

"With so many demands on my time, I often find it difficult to entertain personal calls," I said stiffly. "I am, of course, grateful for your invitation here tonight, as it will give me the opportunity to consider the treaty in more depth."

"Indeed," she murmured, the glint in her eyes never dimming. "I do think you'll find that the treaty, in addition to bringing wealth to both our lands, may also help to alleviate some of the more tedious burdens placed upon you as High Lord." She bit her lip suggestively. "And then perhaps I might make one of those personal calls you can't seem to find the time for."

I shifted uncomfortably, then cleared my throat. "Perhaps," I managed noncommittally, the image of Amarantha's preferred pastimes stark in my mind.

She smiled graciously, as if unfazed by my awkward rebuff. "Well, please do enjoy yourself. The wine is imported from Hybern, you simply must have it."

I bowed. "By your leave."

With a sigh of relief, I rejoined my lieutenant, who was staring stiffly across the hall. I accepted the drink offered to me by a passing servant and followed Lucien's gaze toward the Autumn Court, which had preceded our arrival. His mother was deep in conversation with one of her ladies, and her attention never wandered in the direction of her estranged son. I clapped a hand to Lucien's shoulder.

"So, is it as bad as you imagined?" I teased lightly.

Lucien pulled his gaze away, turning it toward Amarantha instead, who was now greeting Boreal, the High Lord of Winter. "I don't trust her," he growled quietly.

"Well, neither do I, if it makes you feel any better. Where's your drink?" I asked, noticing his hands were empty. I turned to flag another servant, but there were none in sight. "Drink," I commanded, pointing him toward the refreshment table. "Soon enough it will all be over."

He grunted skeptically but obeyed my directive to find something that would take the edge off. My eyes wandered the room absently, taking in the array of colors and fashions. It seemed Amarantha had indeed managed to assemble all seven Courts of Prythian. I caught sight of Bron and Hart flirting with a pair of giggly Summer blondes. At least someone was enjoying their evening.

A dark, ominous presence rose at my back and I bristled as it hovered there. "Should have known you'd make an appearance," I said through gritted teeth.

Rhysand's lips curved in a slow, sinuous smile as he turned his attention on me. "I never miss a good party."

Why the bastard had to continually taunt me at every opportunity, when the room was large enough to house at least two of my ballrooms… I felt the claws pushing against my fingertips, threatening to emerge. "You must feel right at home here," I jeered. "Dark, cold—perhaps you and Amarantha share an interior decorator?"

He answered only with a smirk and then strolled casually away. I stared after him, unable to shake the feeling that whatever had just taken place, I had lost.

"What did that bastard want?" Lucien asked, resuming his place beside me.

"What does he ever want?" I spat. My eyes followed unwillingly as Rhysand continued to prowl in a slow circuit around the room. I took a long pull of my drink, trying to shake off the sense of him that lingered.

Something over my shoulder caught Lucien's attention, and his eyes widened. "Don't look now," was all the warning I had from him before a shrill voice sounded in my ear.

"High Lord!"

I turned with a grimace I hoped could pass for a smile as a buxom Dawn female was thrust alarmingly close, nearly colliding with my drink.

"You remember my daughter Vedra?" the girl's mother asked, ushering her daughter forward eagerly. Vedra tossed her head in a way I assumed was supposed to be charming, her strawberry blond hair falling into her eyes. I glanced up reflexively, right into Rhysand's smirk, and had to tamp down a flare of resentment as I attempted to formulate a diplomatic response.

"Your daughter, Lady…?" I addressed the mother awkwardly.

"Olma, High Lord, Lady Olma of Soleis. Our family is one of the oldest of the Dawn Court, with excellent bloodlines. And my Vedra is very accomplished, in fact…"

I looked around in a panic as she embarked upon the litany of her daughter's virtues. My faithless lieutenant had made himself scarce, disappearing as quickly as the fox he was often compared to. Useless prick, I thought as I worked to keep my drink from being upended onto Vedra's pale silk bodice, which was pressed shamelessly against my arm.

Salvation came from an entirely unexpected source, and I extricated myself gratefully as Amarantha commanded the room's attention and the crowd stilled. I shot Lucien a look as he mysteriously reappeared at my side, standing alert as if nothing had happened.

"A toast!" Amarantha declared, clinking her glass cheerfully. She beamed out at the assembly, picturesque before the seven black thrones arranged on the dais behind her. "My dear friends of Prythian, tonight we celebrate a new era. As you know, Hybern has long craved an association with Prythian that would bring our two lands into harmony, and at last we shall realize our ambition. A brave new order of prosperity and reciprocity. Prythian has always been great, and now, yoked with Hybern, it shall be greater!" She paused, and her audience gave a courteous smattering of applause. I waited for the twist of her mouth that would signal displeasure at the subdued response, but she continued on beatifically.

"And of course, what would Prythian be if not for its seven Courts and their High Lords? The High Lords of Prythian are known far and wide for their honor and fortitude, and it is my honor to stand before you tonight beneath this most sacred Mountain. To you, my friends, I offer humble salute as we toast collectively to our future."

She raised her glass to each of us in turn. "To Spring, a true ally and faithful cohort. May our friendship and fidelity blossom in eternal splendor." I dipped my head in polite acknowledgment. "To Summer, whose abundance satisfies our appetency. May our mutual devotion roll forth, unyielding as the steadfast waves.

"To Autumn, whose valor and passion inspire our hearts. May the flame of our allegiance endure forever. To Winter, whose constancy and dedication defy frigidity. May our affiliation drive ice into the hearts of any who would oppose it."

My eyes had begun to glaze over, and I shook myself slightly to keep alert as her invocation continued.

"To Dawn, bringer of harmony and vitality. May the advent of our fellowship be a blessing upon all who partake of it. To Day, whose brightness shines on the glory of our partnership. May the radiance of our association never be dimmed."

She paused again dramatically as she turned her gaze on Rhysand, whose cold eyes glittered in return. "And to Night, in whose darkness I find a particular kinship. May our union run as deep as the stars are cold."

She raised her glass, and the assembled crowd followed suit. "To Prythian!"

No sooner had I echoed her words than I doubled over in agony, my glass falling to the floor. Poison, I thought breathlessly. That bitch!

I wretched and heaved blindly, my stomach feeling as if it were being pulled out through the navel. I reached for Lucien, who was shouting my name frantically, and staggered weakly against him. He caught me as my whole body convulsed in a violent seizure, and then everything went dark.

"Tamlin? Tamlin!"

I awoke to my lieutenant's panicked voice as he knelt over me, and groaned painfully. My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and there was a strange emptiness in the cavity of my chest where it felt like my heart should be. It was several moments before I even remembered to wonder at the fact that I was alive.

My eyes snapped open. "Amarantha—!" I gasped, and then I heard her voice over the low, worried exclamations filling the stone chamber.

"Bring them to me," she commanded, her tone icy.

Lucien was pushed aside as I was grabbed roughly by two of Amarantha's guards. I snarled and reached for my beast form, but—it wasn't there. There was—nothing there. A cold dread settled over me as I was half dragged to kneel before the dais, alongside five other visibly shaken High Lords, all looking as dazed and bewildered as I felt.

Rhysand's still-unconscious form was dumped unceremoniously at the end of the line, and Amarantha sneered. "Wake him up," she snapped, and a large gray creature with skeletal wings stepped forward to do the honors, shaking one of the most powerful High Lords in Prythian like a ragdoll.

Rhysand's eyes snapped open, instantly alert, his air calculating rather than confused. My eyes narrowed. Was he in league with the traitorous whore? It wouldn't surprise me. A match made in Hell. I'd kill him, as soon as I finished killing her.

"So good of you to join us, Lord Night," Amarantha crooned as she surveyed her prize, inspecting us as if we were her troops on the battlefield. A bloodred ruby adorning her hand caught my eye as she toyed with it.

She stopped and tsked, as if her inspection had been unsatisfactory, tapping her lip with the finger that bore the ruby. "Seven rulers, all equal in stature… However could Prythian call itself united under such fragmented leadership?" She turned to address the assembly, and I caught a glimpse of my Court cowering among the others. The sight made my blood boil. "My subjects, you need be troubled by this misguidance no longer! I am here to unite Prythian under one absolute monarchy, ushering in a glorious age of unparalleled prosperity and peace."

"Hail, the queen! Long live Amarantha!" The shouts came from a contingent of Hybern guards who had surrounded the Prythians, and with a few frightened looks at their captive High Lords, the crowd reluctantly joined in. Lucien remained silent, with a grim look on his face, and I felt a swelling of pride in my stalwart second. I gave him a subtle nod of approval.

"Your want of enthusiasm is noted…" Amarantha said with a frown, seeming to mark each member of the crowd and their reaction. "But I'm sure you will come to find that I am above all a benevolent ruler, and Prythian will prosper under my singular reign."

She returned her attention to the seven of us, arrayed at her feet. I could feel my fury rising, unaccompanied by the familiar bite of claws through flesh, which only intensified my rage.

"You will swear fealty to me, here and now," Amarantha ordered, still caressing her ruby, with a smirk on her face that bespoke her absolute certainty of being obeyed.

Every part of me rebelled against the thought. Amarantha had no concept of the word fealty, and a High Lord of Prythian owed his to no one. Whatever my fate, I swore fervently I would never kneel to this gods-forsaken bitch. Powerless, sequestered—I would die first.

Lucien's father, for all his depravity, appeared to feel the same, judging by the outraged expression he wore as he pitched forward, blustering soundlessly, then crumpled with a gasp, breathing heavily from the effort. Lucien's brothers, visible as a mass of auburn in the crowd, shifted uneasily.

Amarantha's smile was viperous. "Care to try again, Lord Autumn?"

The words came from him as if pulled. "I, Beron, High Lord of the Autumn Court, hereby swear fealty of life and lands to Amarantha, Queen of Prythian."

She encountered no further resistance, and my dread grew as she proceeded down the line. When my turn came, I felt almost divorced from my tongue as it spewed the hated words, and my neck bent of its own accord to kiss the ring, which still held a kind of hypnotizing thrall over me.

Amarantha paused, and a shadow crossed over her face. "Tamlin," she said tenderly, stroking my face. My body resisted the impulse to spit on her. "Your father was such a dear friend to me. Such a shame he's no longer with us… a crime, even." Her eyes drifted to my left, and I shuddered reflexively. "Such a disgrace, how Prythian's former government failed to bring about the appropriate justice for his murder."

She rounded on the courtiers and decreed, "For high crimes against the Spring Court, I hereby sentence those responsible… to death."

My eyes darted to Rhysand, wide-eyed, but his gaze was locked on the assembled crowd. And then the screaming began.

Blood ran freely as Amarantha's guards moved through the Courts with deadly precision, cutting down anyone dressed in Night black. Though I had no love for the members of my enemy's Court, such indiscriminate slaughter—old with young, male with female—made my stomach turn.

I looked again to their High Lord, whose face showed nothing but disdain and perhaps boredom. Bile rose in my throat. Was this all a part of his pact with Amarantha? Had he sanctioned this order? At the thought of Rhysand's betrayal, my rage began to build again, until the sharp sting of claws at my fingertips made me look down in surprise.

I reached eagerly for my power, only to find it so severely diminished, I wondered if I would even be able to winnow home. I flexed my fingers, and the claws lengthened. I wondered what would happen if I attacked Amarantha now, while she was distracted, but the thought evaporated so quickly, it must have been a part of whatever she'd done to us to make any attack impossible.

I felt eyes on me and looked up into Amarantha's knowing gaze. She smiled coyly, and I retracted the claws slowly. With a final smirk, she turned her attention back to the nightmarish execution and commanded, "Enough."

A horrified silence was followed by piteous keening, and I stared out at the sea of bodies that had been piled up in my father's name. I looked away as Amarantha moved on, taking the final two pledges. So many lay dead, it was hard to imagine any of the Night Court had been left alive. My mouth tightened in a grim line. Perhaps Rhysand had no need for a court, having joined Amarantha's so readily. His smile as he swore his oath left no doubt on that front.

Having got what she wanted, Amarantha turned to take up her lone obsidian throne, which had illustratively replaced the seven from earlier. I felt a sense of release from whatever had held me, forced me to recite that oath, and almost without thinking, I hastily winnowed myself back to the manor.

I dropped haggardly into my study chair, head in my hands. How could I have let this happen? All those bodies… My power… I began to pace back and forth across the floor of my study, the anger and panic building in me until I exploded into beast with a roar that shook the walls around me. I was vaguely aware of wood splintering and papers scattering as I raged. My thoughts were always more primal in this form, less rational, but I kept nothing in here that couldn't be replaced. When my feral energy was spent, I slowly transformed back, panting from the sheer helplessness of our situation.

Lucien was in the doorway, his expression stoic. I met his gaze raggedly, searching for words.

"I—"

Whatever I'd been going to say was cut off by a loud thunk at the front of the house, followed by shouts of alarm. I locked eyes with my second before barreling down the stairs after him.

Pinned to the front door by a long ash arrow was a lifeless body, Idril, one of my guards. A pale piece of parchment was skewered onto the shaft, and Lucien bent to tear it free. The sounds of screams echoed in the distance, coming from multiple directions. A full-scale attack.

My shoulders itched to transform and fly immediately to the aid of my people, but something told me I needed to see what was on that paper. Lucien passed me the note wordlessly.

You should have made time. ~A