The following day I was joined by Nesta and Amren at the House of Wind. Nesta gave me only a nod when they came; it was Amren that wanted to speak with me. They hadn't talked to the others, so I told them of Feyre's visit last night. They both seemed relieved to hear that there were no major casualties, except those of the Summer Court.

A few hours of waiting, the rest finally showed up. Or Feyre, Rhysand and Mor showed up. Azriel and Cassian were not with them. The three of them looked tired, worn out from yesterday's battle and a night of caring for the wounded. Rhysand explained what had happened, in more detail than Feyre had last night.

"The royal family remains alive and well. Tarquin's armada suffered losses, but Cresseida and Varian remained unscathed," Rhysand continued. I didn't know any of these names, but I figured that Tarquin might be the High Lord of the Summer Court. The other two names - no clue to who they were. Amren, however, reacted to these words. A tightness that had occupied her the entire morning seemed to vanish slightly from her. Was someone close to her?

Nesta interrupted my chain of thought. "Where is he?" Her mouth was stiff and thin as she glanced around the room.

"Who?"

"Cassian." It was one of the first times I had heard Nesta talk. She had never muttered a word to me during those hours in the library; she hadn't needed to, but now she was asking about the whereabouts of Cassian. I would never have guessed that she and him were close. The faces around me showed the same shock as mine probably did.

"He's busy," Morrigan spat. I shivered from the sharpness of her voice. Morrigan locked eyes with Nesta, challenging her - the one even more terrifying than the other. Several seconds went by of this. "When he gets back, keep your forked tongue behind your teeth," she finally said.

I didn't know why I feel particular protective of Nesta; perhaps because I was beginning to see her as a friend. I concluded that I didn't like Morrigan. She might be a beauty, a pretty smile, but behind all that… I let the thought go. Jealousy, I wrote it off as - jealousy of her beauty and her friends. Something I didn't have. But she was still rude to Nesta. Why was that necessary?

Nesta didn't get to answer her before the others told Morrigan off. Then Rhysand told us of the meeting with the High Lords taking place in three days. He told Morrigan to pick a time and place and write the High Lords, informing them of this. Morrigan vanished as the sound of this order, and Rhysand turned to me. "Iris, thank you for agreeing to join the meeting. I would to introduce you to the High Lord's; hopefully the promise of your presence at the battles might convince them to join us," he informed me. "During the meeting, you should try to practice creating channels to them, get familiar with them. During a battle, there will be many other people, and you should be able to pick out the High Lords from thousands of people."

I nodded at his command, hoping that I would be able to follow it. Amren and Nesta walked towards the sitting room, leaving me. Feyre was looking intensely at her mate; they were clearly having some sort of mental conversation. Then, suddenly, she turned to me and said, "We have to go now. See you in three days, Iris."

…

Azriel showed up again the next day for training. I didn't ask where he had been; it wasn't my business. We kept training in the afternoon, after he was done training with Feyre each morning. I continued making progress. It was probably caused by increasing my training - when I didn't train with Azriel, I trained by myself in my room. Practicing spreading my powers, reaching out with multiple teathers. It left me completely exhausted by the time it was evening; usually I was passed out straight after dinner, meaning that I didn't see Nesta at night. But I liked the heavy feeling in my body each night, telling me how hard I'd worked during the day. It didn't feel like I had used up my power, because I knew that wasn't the case; it felt like I had been stretching my power, like a muscle that was being stretched longer, more flexible.

The day of the meeting came. I had been up for hours, pacing in my room, when I finally allowed myself to get ready. Rhysand had sent me a dress the day before that I was to wear to the meeting. As I had bathed, I put on the dress, careful not to damage the expensive fabric. I had never worn anything of such quality. I stared at the reflection in the mirror.

It showed someone I could barely recognize. The few past weeks had changed me. My body was not only a skeleton anymore; it was beginning to fill in, and the slightest curves were beginning to show. My face had also regained fat, a blush resting on my cheeks, and my hair was not as lifeless as it had been when I first arrived. My eyes - my mother's eyes - still bore some of the emptiness, but a glimmer of life had taken residence in them. I still didn't consider myself beautiful, but this change my body had gone through was beautiful. I silently thanked Feyre and Rhysand for taking me in, allowing me into their court - their home.

The dress I wore was a black gown made out of a thin fabric that clung to my body. It had thin straps on the shoulders, going across the back that was otherwise bare and then tied together. It wasn't anything I imagined that Feyre or any other member of the Inner Circle would wear, but I loved it. It seemed to compliment my eyes and the slight tan color that my skin had gained from training under the sun. Along with the golden necklace resting on my breast, I looked deadly powerful.

What would my mother say if she saw me now? She would probably tell me how I finally looked like I was worth something. This was how she would have wanted to present me - in a dress that showed exactly what a potential buyer would be getting if he took the deal. But this didn't scare me, or make me want to rip the dress off - no, I had put the dress on by my own free will; this dress now represented that I was free, that I was no-one's.

I went out my room to meet the others. Seeing them, I concluded that I had been right. My dress was nothing like the one that Feyre was wearing. She looked elegant and regal in her glimmering gown, like a glowing star. Beside her was Rhysand, dressed in black attire suited for a High Lord of the Night Court. Beside them stood Cassian and Azriel, both dressed in their Illyrian leathers - as Azriel had told me one day that they were called. I couldn't help but stare a bit too long at Azriel, taking in his beauty beneath the outer layer of cold mightiness. He noticed this and raised a brow, waiting for me to say something. I shook my head and went to stand next to Morrigan who was wearing a revealing midnight blue dress - as always, she was devastatingly beautiful.

When Nesta suddenly joined us, wearing a dark blue gown of similar fashion as Feyre's dress, the conversation of the room halted. Everyone looked at her. She had told Feyre that she didn't want to go to the meeting with us, but now she looked like she was joining us. After a few exchanged compliments between her and her sister, Nesta said, "I'm going with you." She paused, then continued, "I… I do not want to be remembered as a coward."

"No one would say that," Feyre answered kindly.

"I would."

Nesta was brave, I thought, for changing her mind. Letting her hatred for this world aside. It made me be brave, too. Rhysand offered Nesta the job as human emissary to the human world which she accepted.

"Welcome to the court. You're about to have one hell of a first day," he told her. Nesta smiled slightly at that.

"No going back now," it sounded from Cassian and he made a gesture to his wings which I didn't understand.

A smile grew on Rhysand's lips. "I figure it's time for the world to know who really has the largest wingspan."

Confusion rose in me. What did he mean with that? Cassian laughed at his words and Azriel smiled. Morrigan and Feyre seemed to hold in their laughter. "What do you mean?" I finally asked, wanting to know what they were talking about. Cassian seemed to laugh even more at my confusion.

It was Morrigan that looked at me with a sigh and explained, "Illyrian males like to brag about wingspan corresponding to the size of… other parts." I gaped at her, a deep blush forming on my cheeks. How embarrassing, I thought to myself for a brief moment.

I couldn't help but look around the Illyrians around me, studying their wings. "Oh. I have been wondering why your wings are so small, Cassian. Good to know why," I said innocently and sent Cassian a wicked smile. I was met with a deep growl from the winged male and, to my surprise, a laugh from Azriel. I had never heard him laugh before - it was always only ever a weak smile, not even a twinkle in his eyes. This was new. Rhysand's laughter also grumbled beside me.

Then Rhysand said, "Shall we?"

Azriel went first to detect any traps, and when Rhysand had received some silent message from him, he nodded approvingly. Morrigan was to winnow with Nesta and Cassian, and Rhysand would take me and Feyre. When I took Rhysand's hand as Feyre did, darkness erupted around me, and a second later I found myself standing in Dawn Court.

We stood on a veranda. Before us, stood Azriel and a brown skinned male Fae, glowing like the sun. The male bowed to Rhysand and guided us inside the palace, up one of the towers. When we finally made it to the chamber, we were met by three of the High Lords. The High Lords of Dawn, Winter and Helion. I stood in the background, beside Nesta, who like me seemed to be very content with not having to talk to the terrifying High Lords - at least not right now. All three of them radiated power, their very presence made the chamber feel… I couldn't exactly explain how it felt, but I could feel their power without even reaching for them. The High Lords exchanged words with Feyre and Rhysand, especially considering Feyre's new tittle. But then the eyes of the High Lord of the Day court fell intensely on Nesta and I. Helion was his name - or Spell-cleaver, as Azriel had told me when he had taught me of the courts yesterday.

"Who are your guests?" His voice sounded deep, but curios. He might have been the most beautiful Fae I had ever seen - a walking sun.

Feyre answered his question, "This is my sister, and our emissary to the human lands. And… This is Iris." She came to a halt, not knowing whether to tell them of my heritage just yet. "Both will tell their stories when the others are here." Their attention went to Nesta to my relief. I had been dreading the moment that the High Lords would be told who my mother is; would they want to kill me? I recalled the look in Feyre's eyes the day I had arrived at Hewn City. Pure hatred and horror. By the thought of this, I lowered my eyes to the ground, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the floor - but truly just hoping they wouldn't look too long into my eyes. When I looked up again, I noticed that Helion was looking at me out of the corners of his eyes. His head was angled with curiosity. Could he perhaps feel something from me? Feel my well of power?

The other High Lords arrived late, but they all came: Summer, Autumn and Spring. When the Autumn Court came - Beron and all of his sons - the entire Inner Circle tensed up. Especially Morrigan looked like they were the last people she wished to be in the same room with.

I zoned out of the following conversation. Most of it consisted of insults anyway. As Rhysand had asked me to, I sent out tethers, reaching for each of the High Lords. Their power was each very different; like different types of fabric. I wasn't to do anything with the channels I created to them, only practice creating them. From the past days of intense training, I was delighted to realize that it actually wasn't too hard. But I knew it would be more challenging during a battle, even if I were to fight at the same time. However, I doubted that they would trust me on the battlefield since I wasn't making as much progress with my ability to wield a blade.

As I was playing around with my tethers, making longer and more twisted ways towards the High Lords, Helion looked at me again. He raised his eyebrows, and I pulled back. Yes, I said to myself, he could definitely sense what I was doing. I smiled apologetically at him, and he returned the smile. None of the other High Lords seemed to notice around us.

"Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut." The words broke me out of my chain of thought. I looked the male whose lips they had come from. The male had sharp features, red hair and amber eyes. Autumn Court. He looked extremely wicked as his mouth was curled into a smile.

The second the words had exited his mouth, he was suddenly tacked backward by something. I looked to find Azriel's seat empty; its owner now on top of the red-haired Fae. From the look of Morrigan's face, I knew that the words had been directed at her, but she seemed more disturbed by the fact that the spymaster was now fighting the male. Cassian went over to them to break them apart but was met by a wall of blue. The same color as Azriel's Siphons.

I gripped the armrest of my chair and moved to the edge of my seat, my eyes locked nervously at the fight. Morrigan hadn't deserved to be talked to that way, no matter what might have been going on before I returned my attention to the conversation, and no matter what history they might share. But I knew how important this meeting was. That fighting was not exactly a part of the plan. What was Azriel doing?

It was Feyre that finally succeeded in getting Azriel to stand down, offering a seat next to her which seemed to calm him down. Azriel's fury scared me. He didn't seem like he was entirely himself. I didn't relax before he was seated once again, but he was still dreadfully still, eyes like ice. Not the same male that had promised me of a better world. Was this how he planned to achieve that?

As everyone had calmed down, the meeting finally moved on to more important matters. Thesan introduced us to a Fae named Nuan who supposedly had a cure against faebane. I had only ever heard mentions of this matter before; Feyre and Rhysand had once discussed their issue with Hybern inflicting everyone with faebane, making them weaker, their powers dull. But there was a cure, it seemed. That would make the battle against Hybern more equal. I knew that this was very important, but for some reason the High Lords refused to take it.

Voiced were raised and the conversation got heated quickly again, ending with Feyre attacking the High Lord of Autumn which revealed her powers. This was the last drop to make Autumn Court give up, and they rose from their chairs about to leave, when suddenly Nesta spoke. Her voice was strong and convincing, but it was angry - angry that they were behaving like children. She spoke directly to Beron, not flinching before him. When she had finished, he still didn't answer.

That was when Rhysand decided to finally introduce me. "We have the daughter of Amarantha as an ally," he told the High Lords as he looked at me. I sat uncomfortably in the chair as all the eyes of the room suddenly rested on me. There were mixed reactions; some looked surprised, some confused, and most of them looked furious. I especially noticed the way Helion looked at me. Azriel had told me how Amarantha had taken over many of his libraries, probably destroyed them. That, among other horrors my mother probably inflicted on the Day Court, was likely the reason behind his look. His former kind, curios eyes were now gleaming with cold fury.

It was Thesan that spoke, his voice calm - which was strange among the other reactions the news of my identity had attracted. "An ally? You must explain further, Rhysand."

"She came to us to pledge allegiance to my mate, as a thank for freeing her from her mother's grasp. Amarantha used her for her abilities to channel power to other High Faes. Iris is like a well of power," Rhysand explained. "And now she stands with us, ready to support all of us in battles. We will have much higher chances of winning."

Helion's eyes changed to understanding. As did most of the other High Lords, but they were still alerted by Rhysand's words. I glanced over the High Lords, stopping at the red-haired male who Azriel had brawled with earlier. He was suddenly were interested in me, very alike to the hungry look his father suddenly had. This was exactly what I had feared. Males that wanted to own me, use me for their own good. I felt nauseous as I forced myself to look away.

"We will consider it," it sounded from Autumn Court before they winnowed away.

…

The meeting had ended with the other High Lords had been convinced as well and had accepted to join us. It had gone brilliantly the others had said - save for the multiple fights throughout the meeting. We had been escorted up to a room where we were to spend the night, because the meeting would continue the following day.

I sat in a couch beside Feyre, but I said nothing all the while they were conversing with Helion - who had loosened up, not seeming as intimidating as he had earlier. It had been too much all of this. The meeting had been too much for me. The cruel words that had been exchanged, the fights… I had never wanted to be part of anything like this. I just wanted to fight for Feyre and her court. I promised myself never to accept a position in any court. Another meeting like this would be horrible. I tried to distract myself from these thoughts by studying the High Fae before me. I noticed that Morrigan and Helion exchanged particular sensual looks. Were they lovers?

"Iris," Helion said and turned to me, tasting the sound of my name. "I could feel your powers from the second you entered the palace. You have even more than Rhys does - more than I have ever experienced before. It's very interesting." His eyes didn't blink as he spoke to me, making my face heat from the intensity of his gaze. "Can you wield it in other ways?"

I sat up straight as the High Lord asked me a question. "It's not something I have experimented much with. Once," I said, "I managed to create a kind of explosion of power, but that was in a moment of desperation. I'm not sure how to repeat that." I thought of the day in the mountains before Hewn City. My mother would have been very interested if she had known of this.

"Are you not interested in your powers?"

"No." The answer was easy. "Developing it too much might make me a weapon in some's eyes. And that's all I've ever been my life."

Helion angled his head with curiosity. He wasn't like the other High Lords - and especially not like the males from Autumn Court. I was different in his eyes. "And if we win this war, where will you be afterwards?"

I hadn't allowed myself to think of this. Would there be any place in Prythian where I belonged? For a split second my mind imagined Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court. But I shook off the thought. "I don't know," I told him honestly, my voice hoarse from thinking of some of the ideas I'd had in mind previously.

"You would be very welcome in my court," Helion said with a warm smile that reminded me of the sun. Not a buy offer, but an invite to live in a court of sun and clouds. Despite what my mother had cost him. I bowed my head in thanks, showing him my appreciation. Somehow, I could easily imagine myself love this male. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but in a way a loyal citizen loves their High Lord.

"Are your forces ready?" Cassian asked, changing the subject.

Even with the kindness of Helion, I still felt exhausted from today. I knew I couldn't handle one more day of this, but the meetings were not over yet. There was a day again tomorrow. I decided to open my mind the slightest, just like I had done once earlier, inviting in any listeners. Rhysand turned to look at me with a puzzled look.

Do you need me for tomorrow? I'm not sure I can handle more of this, I said in my mind. I showed him the picture of Autumn Court that had looked at me like I was an animal they were interested in buying.

No, it's fine. Do you wish to go home?

Home. I wasn't sure if I had a home, but the House of Wind was probably the closest thing. Yes, please, but only if you don't need more from me. I felt like a coward for asking to return. I hadn't even spoken a word at the meeting, and yet I was fleeing now.

Rhysand turned his head away from me again, a few seconds went by before he answered. You have been much help today, Iris. Thank you. Do not think your presence there was not enough, but I understand why you don't want to repeat this again tomorrow. Az will take you back.

…

Questions weren't raised as I excused myself and went to find Azriel, shadows enclosing him. He had received a mental note from Rhysand, it seemed, because he didn't seem confused to why I was seeking him out now. He didn't say a word to me as he took my hand and winnowed me back. His eyes were clouded. What was he thinking of? Was it still the fight with the male from Autumn that bothered him?

Azriel winnowed us below the stairs to the House of Wind and continued to fly me the rest of the way. We were both silent during the trip. I was feeling guilty from leaving like a coward, and he was… I didn't dare ask what was going on. We landed on a balcony, the same place he usually dropped me off after training. He was just about to fly off again, wings still spread behind him, as I stopped him, "Azriel?" My voice was hesitant.

His answer was a raise of an eyebrow.

"Who was that male who offended Morrigan?" The one Azriel had attacked as if he wanted to kill him.

"Eris," he spoke the name with pure hatred. "He was to marry Mor, but when he deemed her unworthy of him, he left her to die in the woods." He was shaking with anger that he couldn't control.

I took a step back by the sight of him like this but nodded. I couldn't imagine why anyone would see Morrigan as unworthy of anything, but there was probably more to it. "Are you okay?"

He looked at me, his eyes showing me nothing. "Why?"

I felt something inside me; a twinge of sadness from him not accepting my question, not answering it. "I don't know," I finally said, giving up. He was clearly not in the mood to talk to me. "Goodnight." I took a few more steps towards the entryway.

Azriel nodded, not saying anything as he spread his wings and flew into the night. I didn't know why, but I felt like crying, my body beckoning to give in - but I held it in, tried to distract myself from these feelings, whatever they were.

That night, I had nightmares of red-haired males who had taken over the usual torture. Their hair was like the flames that had once, too, danced on top of my head, and their laughter like the crackles of fire. Over and over.