Hi, everyone! This is my first story that I've written for A Court of Thorns and Roses. I really hope you will enjoy it.


1


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Ugh! He hated his brothers. It always looked like they were plotting to kill him. He skimmed the papers in his hands while he looked at his brothers from the corner of his eyes. They were in the dining room. The ceiling reached well above them. Orange and yellow trees swayed behind the floor length windows. His brothers were loud as they ate their dinner, all talking about the females they had hooked up with the night before. Shooting sneering remarks at Eris about his years long dry mark. Not that he cared. He didn't care much what his brothers thought of him.

Their father, the High Lord of the Autumn Court wasn't present at dinner, most likely hauled up in his office or room again. He thought he was getting more paranoid that one of his sons was going to kill him for his place on the throne. He wasn't wrong, of course. But Eris was being careful, he was waiting for the right moment.

In the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the curtains rustle but nothing else moved again. He thought he'd hallucinated it. His brothers didn't seem to notice anything amiss, but that wasn't saying much though. He had a meeting with the High Lord of the Night Court in a few weeks, and he wondered if he would see his little brother there. He never cared much about Lucien, but he never hated him, like his other brothers. He never saw him as a treat. Eris found out about Lucien true heritage well over a few hundred years ago. Lucien never showed interest in becoming the new High Lord of the Autumn Court, but it wasn't until he found out who his real father was that he ceased to be a treat.

His other brothers on the other side... well, he hated them. He didn't trust them one little bit. He always slept with a weapon underneath his pillow. Always took an antidote before he ate something in their Court, just in case. It was tiring really. Killing their father was one thing, he was a sadistic bastard. But killing his brothers... he didn't think the rest of the Court would believe that he didn't have anything to do with their deaths.

He was just pushing his food around on his plate as he flipped to the next page. The conversation, the paperwork, it all bored him to death. It's been a long while since he felt truly alive. With Amarantha gone, the war with the King of Hybern over, he thought things would change. But it all stayed the same, he was still under his father's thumb, watching him be unnecessarily cruel. Eris wouldn't lie, he could be cruel too. But nothing compared to his father or his brothers, with Lucien being the exception. He was always the exception. With their mother, with...

He lowered the pages and blinked. Who-?

Somewhere in his far memory he could recall a girl in the Autumn Court. A beautiful girl, young too, he vaguely remembered. But he couldn't remember much else, except a flash of dark hair and light eyes, unlike his own. Running around the woods with him, with Lucien but that was all he could remember. It was like someone had wiped the memories of her from his mind. But a tiny bit had lingered. He hasn't thought about it, about her for ages, so why now? The memory of the girl had popped up when he thought about his mother favouring Lucien. Like maybe she favourited him too...

Shaking his head trying to clear it, he pushed himself from the table and walked out. Ignoring his brothers who called after him with whatever nonsense it was now. He walked out of the building, striding over to the forest edge. The sun was slowly setting, a golden shine on the coloured leaves. They rustled slowly in the wind, a whisper flittering through the forest.

Vanserra. It seemed to whisper. Vanserra. He closed his eyes, listening to the trees that whispered to him. He walked through the forest with his eyes closed. He knew the forest like the back of his hand. He knew every branch, tree root and hole in the ground, he knew every inch. He walked until he reached his favourite tree. The biggest Red Oak tree in the whole forest. Its branches full of red-coloured leaves. He leaned against it. And once again, the wind whispered his name.

Vanserra.

It seemed closer now, louder. He didn't think much about it, he had heard the trees and the wind speak to him before. But he whirled around when a soft female voice whispered close to him.

Eris.

He scanned the area around him. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing or nobody there. He was utterly alone in the forest. Save for the birds high up in their nests, or the squirrels running on the thin branches. He heard a giggle, a soft feminine giggle. His brothers could mimic a lot of noises, but nothing like that. But the sound was far away, not like the whisper of his name, that sounded just next to his ear. The giggle was away, far away. He stood utterly still, scanning the trees for another few minutes. But nothing came out or called out to him again, not even the trees or wind. Without looking back, he went back to the house. His hand resting on the hilt of the knife that hung on his belt, just in case.


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Three months had passed since that evening in the woods. He hasn't heard a whisper since. A few days after it happened, the utter silence around him, he forgot about it. His life back to the same old boring routine. Aside from his visit to the Night Court, to seeing his brother again. That went as well as expected. Morrigan wasn't there though. He had heard that she had begun training with the new Valkyries. With Nesta Archerson. He still gritted his teeth when her beautiful face flashed through his mind. Mate of Cassian, the brute.

He was sitting at the dining room table, untouched breakfast in front of him. He had forgone the reports from the Spring Court, about Tamlin still being a shell of the man he used to be and was reading one of his favourite books. It was still early, his brothers still asleep. His father had come down for a moment, grabbing a plate of breakfast and said he would be in his office, if needed, before disappearing again. He enjoyed the quiet in the morning before his brothers would come in and disturb the peace.

Since the sun wasn't up yet, he jumped a little as the doors of the room opened. Like he expected, it wasn't any of his brothers. He thought it might be his father again, but no.

It was a female. A beautiful female, he had never seen her in his life. But still she strode in the room like she owned the place.

She had long dark auburn hair that was half braided back. Her green eyes were striking, they were so bright it felt like they could see right through his soul. She was wearing black and brown warrior leathers, her pants so fitting it was like they were painted on her skin. The leather bust was cut low, showing off her full breasts, a tattoo peeking just above the leather between her breasts. It was hidden enough, that he couldn't see what it was. His eyes snapped up to hers as she flopped down on the seat next to him. She nicked the untouched bacon from his plate.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just walk in here. And certainly not steal the breakfast of the Heir of the Autumn Court." The woman just rolled her eyes and nicked another piece. He blinked. "Guards!" He waited. No one came.

The woman leaned back in her chair, taking a knife from her hip and flipped it in her hand. The pure look of relaxation. He called for the guards again. Nothing. The woman smirked. She held the knife in front of her, watching her reflexion. She combed her fingers through her hair, letting it dance on her back. He took out his knife, whirled to her and held it against her chin. She didn't move, she didn't even flinch. She slowly lowered the knife she was watching herself in and turned to look at him. A challenging look in her eyes.

"You are wrong to show no fear in my court, bitch!" He snarled. "This is my home, and nobody enters without my say so."

She smirked again, leaning closer. The tip of his dagger pressed against the column of her throat, blood trickling down the hilt. But still she didn't flinch, still she didn't utter a single word at who she was, how she got in and why she didn't stop the fuck smirking. Her green eyes seemed to flicker with amusement as she held his gaze.

"I don't know what the fuck you did to my guards, but you are coming with me." He stood up, still holding the dagger against her throat. She placed her knife on the table as she stood with him. She let him bend her over the table so he could search for more weapons, he was sure she had tucked away in her leathers. She let him, he knew that. When he leaned closer to search her boot for another knife or whatever, she wiggled that perfect round ass against him. "What the fuck is your problem!?"

She chuckled and then in a blink of an eye, she twisted and was out of his grip. Her knife already pocketed at her side. She wasn't here to kill him, he knew that much. He would never admit it out loud, but if she wanted to, he would probably be dead already, even with the power he possessed. Who the fuck was she?

And then she strode out of the room, like nothing happened, like she was invited to be here. He wanted to charge after her, but he couldn't move an inch. At one point, she had taken his knife and had pinned his sleeve in the table. All without him noticing. Just as he wrenched the knife free from the table, his brothers walked in. Laughing at something stupid probably.

"Did you see the woman?" He growled, his eyes flashing with fire.

They looked at him with raised eyebrows. Tark, the second oldest said. "What woman?"

"The woman that just walked out of here, dimwit!" The three of them blinked at him. "Dark auburn hair, green eyes. Dressed for battle." He said exasperated.

"Don't you think it's a bit early to be drinking Syrenna?" Micah asked.

"Like you're not still drunk from last night." Paxton snickered.

Fire sparked at Eris's fingers. "Does it look like I'm joking?" He snarled.

"There was no one in the corridor, brother." Tark said. "Come to think of it, neither were the guards."

"Then go check on them." He snapped. Instead of arguing, the three brothers turned around and disappeared in the hallway. Eris took in a deep breath, trying to regain his temper. Trying to defuse the flames that licked his fingers. He sat back down in his seat, the book his was reading was lying upside down on the table. When he picked it up, a note fluttered from the book. It was folded in two, on the top was the ancient symbol for Ghost. He opened the note, only four words filled the white paper. Poor little High Lord.

The woman and the note were mocking him. Poor little High Lord, those four little words stirred a vague memory inside of him, but he couldn't place it. When he heard his brothers come back, he placed the note in the book and closed it.

He turned to look at them as Tark spoke. "Two of the guards went outside after they saw suspicious movements but found nothing. The two other guards, who were supposed to guard these doors, were unconscious in the cupboard down the hall. They can't remember who or what hit them."

"We'll punish them for the nonchalance." Paxton grinned wickedly.

"No." He said. "I'll talk to them and deal with it."

Paxton's grin faltered and sat down at his seat, brooding. Eris didn't want to think about what they would do to those guards. But he knew what that woman could do, or at least he thought he knew. But he couldn't let his brothers punish them the way they liked. If she could even get one on him. No, he couldn't blame them.