Everyone else takes their seats and I find myself between Rhysand and two of Helion's entourage, then the High Lord himself whose stare is split between Nesta, Feyre, and myself. Those who were Made. Azriel sits almost on the other side of our group so the Shadowsingers bookend our court. Grand, menacing, a promise of unity and violence. Meanwhile, Viviane entertains us all with the story of she and Kallias while we wait for the others.

"Tell me, how exactly are you related to Rhysand?" Helion speaks to me directly, but I feel Rhys' attention shift from Viviane's salacious account.

"Distantly." I answer and fearlessly meet his golden gaze. "But we could be siblings given our mutual affection and mounting disdain for one another." Helion rumbles with a soft chuckle and I can practically feel Rhys's surprise at my words, then pleasure. It isn't lost on me that he and Cassian both name me little sister and since learning of the loss of his own, I know he's gifted me an honor with the name.

"Hm, the relation explains how you could have so much power at your disposal, but I'll admit I'm curious about the true extent." His voice is a low purr, a lure to draw in unsuspecting prey. He should know that I'm a predator in my own right.

"Careful what you wish for." I coo gently. "I'd hate to give you nightmares." The soldier from his group shivers next to me and the corner of my mouth quirks up. Helion leans forward slightly in his chair before Thesan grabs our attention.

"Tarquin is here." He says simply and I feel my group stiffen slightly. Things weren't exactly smooth the last time we saw him.

"Heard about the blood rubies." Helion says as his eyes slide from me to Rhys. "That's a story I want you to tell." Rhys waves an idle hand.

"All in good time." He assures the man before his eyes return to the doorway along with everyone else's. The High Lord of the Summer Court steps into the room and we all take a breath. Two are with him; Amren's...friend, Varian, and Cresseida. We're ignored even as introductions are made, then everyone settles once again before Autumn arrives. Beron, the High Lord, and all his sons. Rage is already clanging through me when I see Mor's smile vanish. Cold anger brushes against my burning and I'm assured by Azriel that while our outrage is justified, this isn't the place to take revenge. Not now.

They enter the room and I appraise each of them since I'd never met any, but have only heard of them through stories. None of them flattering. The High Lord doesn't degrade himself by looking at anyone other than the other High Lords, but his sons leer at all of us like foolish lion cubs growling at a roaring river. Unaware that should they take a step wrong, then they'll drown. "Enough." Eris, the male that Mor so desperately tried to avoid, calls them off and they listen. It's all I can do to calm the fire in me.

"It's no surprise that you're tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family." Rhys says smoothly and I'm slightly soothed by his careful humor. If Rhys is at ease, then I can be too.

"Mate—and High Lady." Beron sneers and my shadows tremble with the desire to see what the oldest of us is afraid of. I wonder if so many years culminate many fears or if it loses its sting after living so long. My eyes snap back to Eris when he looks to Mor even though her face is smooth and bored. I don't insult her by growling at him, but my shadows flare just enough to catch his eye and hold it as I stare at him. They all sit and my eyes only break from Eris when a shadow curls around my ear.

"Spring approaches." They whisper and I stiffen. Rhysand's attention turns to me and I quickly open a slice of my mind to him even as the others begin to speak.

"What is it?" He asks instantly.

"Tamlin—" I respond just in time for the traitorous bastard to appear in a flash. Rhys rescinds his mind from mine as the shields around us are reinforced as my court schools their faces into cool indifference, distaste, or boredom. I do no such thing. No, I allow murder to fill my eyes and wrath to fill my mouth, let it calm me, soothe me, along with the knowledge that should he make one wrong move then I will parade his greatest fears in front of him like a puppet show.

"We were not expecting you, Tamlin." Thesan says and waves a hand towards his attendants. "Fetch the High Lord a chair." The male doesn't rip his eyes away from Feyre and Rhys for a second.

"I will admit, Tamlin, that I am surprised to see you here. Rumor claims your allegiance now lies elsewhere." Beron drawls with an entertained light simmering in his eyes. Tamlin's green eyes only wander over Rhys and Feyre further, taking in her sparkling ring, the curls of ink over her right hand, then up to the crown on her head. A chair is set almost directly across from us between Helion and Beron's entourage. He sits.

"Let's get on with it then." Helion encourages and I wholeheartedly agree, but there's barely any air in the room to breathe, much less speak.

"It would seem congratulations are in order." Tamlin says and it's an effort to keep my skin from pulling back from my bones with disgust at hearing him. No one addresses Tamlin, but Rhys turns to Thesan.

"We can discuss the matter at hand later."

"Don't stop on my account." Tamlin counters and Rhys only reclines in his chair as if he were in the study back home in Velaris.

"I'm not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies." Rhysand replies. Helion grins like a lion from across the table and I have a hard time not smiling smugly myself.

"No, you're just in the habit of fucking them." White hot fire shoots through me and my blunt nails dig into the arms of my chair. Rhys only smiles faintly at my side.

"Seems a far less destructive alternative to war."

"And yet here you are, having caused it in the first place." Tamlin replies, but Rhys blinks in mock confusion. A claw slides out of the knuckle of the male across from us and he smiles when Feyre shifts just enough to be noticed.

"If you hadn't stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back."

"The sun was shining when I left you." Feyre responds quietly and Tamlin's dismissive snort makes me see red.

"Why are you here, Tamlin?" Kallias asks and that damned claw digs deeper into the wood as it groans.

"I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern—to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them. And she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge—either her own or her...master's."

"You don't get to rewrite the narrative," Feyre breathes. "You don't get to spin this to your advantage." She goes on, but Tamlin only cocks his head at Rhysand.

"When you fuck her, have you ever noticed that little noise she makes right before she climaxes?" Feyre's cheeks redden while I snarl and Rhys looks over his mate to gauge his own response. However, Azriel is the one who answers.

"Be careful how you speak about my High Lady." He tells him coldly and only with that defense am I able to rein in my shadows. Surprise flits across Tamlin's face, then is instantly turned to fury as he appraises Feyre's tattoos again.

"It was not enough to sit at my side, was it?" He asks and every word is bitter, sharp. "You once asked me if you'd be my High Lady, and when I said no..." A low laugh. "Perhaps I underestimated you. Why serve in my court when you could rule in his?"

"Who, indeed, would settle for you when there are males like Rhysand and his court?" I counter and my voice is smooth and cold like a steel blade. Rhys's lips flick up and I feel Azriel's pride while I blink innocently as Tamlin's gaze turns to me.

"And who are you? His whore to play with on the side?" He asks and I hum even as I hear Azriel's chair creak as he grasps the arms.

"He's not lucky enough for that. Little sister is a more apt name." I answer and he hums as he appraises me.

"A dangerous thing to be...given what happened to the last." His eyes cut to Rhys to soak in the sudden tightness lining his every limb. It's tempting to reach out to him, but instead, I level Tamlin with a hard look.

"Careful now." I tell him with my voice light and cloying. "We've just met and while I know quite a bit about you, you have no idea what I'm capable of. Best not test me." Even if I've already decided that when I get the chance, I will be tearing out his inner organs one by one with my bare hands. He ignores me and finally faces the rest of the High Lords who have taken in my advice with curious or cautious eyes.

"They peddle tales of defending our land and peace. And yet she came to my lands and laid them bare for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind—after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save us...look to the male sitting beside her. Ask what he stands to gain—what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She's proved her ambition—and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed." Unscathed. The word rings in my head along with the memories of so many bodies taking me, using me, yet physically, I escaped unscathed. He knows nothing. I feel Azriel draw close to me over the bond, as solid and reassuring as if he were holding my hand. Rhys, bless him, releases a dark laugh.

"Well played, Tamlin. You're learning." A measured blow that reveals Tamlin gets angrier at his condescension than his anger. I note this carefully.

"You asked why I'm here? I might ask the same of you." Tamlin jerks his chin at those here from the Winter Court. "You mean to tell me that after Under the Mountain, you can stomach working with him?" He flings out a pointed finger and my jaw locks.

"We came here to decide that for ourselves." Viviane answers and I can feel the sadness that now tints the room from their entourage.

"I had no involvement in that. None." Rhys says so very softly.

"You stood beside her throne while the order was given." Kallias's eyes spark with blue flame. Rhys pales and I've never seen him so ill at ease.

"I tried to stop it."

"Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered. That you tried." His voice slices through the room, cold as ice.

"There is not one day that passes when I don't remember it. Not one day." He says to Kallias, Viviane, and all their people gathered here today.

"Remembering doesn't bring them back, does it?"

"No." Rhys says instantly without a hint of hesitation. "No, it doesn't. And I am now fighting to make sure it never happens again." Viviane's eyes now flit between her mate and Rhysand.

"I was not present Under the Mountain. But I would hear, High Lord, how you tried to—stop her." Viviane tries to save us, but Rhys says nothing when faced with revealing such horrors in front of enemies or allies. Beron snorts.

"Finally speechless, Rhysand?" He comments snidely, but no one makes a move but for Feyre who reaches for her mate.

"I believe you." She says clear and calm without a trace of doubt.

"Says the woman who gave an innocent girl's name in her stead—for Amarantha to butcher as well." Beron goes on and my tongue starts wagging before I can think about the words I'm speaking.

"Says the man who raised sons who are no more than butchers themselves." I hiss and watch ire flash across the entirety of the Autumn Court. Azriel reaches out across the bond and I soak in the calm he offers.

"Reel yourself in." He says quietly and I take a deep breath to calm the storm of magic gathering in my gut. "Stoke the fire in your gut for the right time. Not here. Not now." I take his words to heart as Rhys begins to speak roughly.

"When your people rebelled...she was furious. She wanted you dead, Kallias." Viviane's face drains of any and all color. "I...convinced her that it would serve little purpose."

"Who knew that a cock could be so persuasive." Beron muses and I bite back a dozen responses as our group looks over at him. One response being that I pity his wife if he knows so little about how to wield his own appendage. As small as his may be. I relay the insult to Azriel and at least get the reward of his amusement and agreement.

"Father." Eris warns, but then Rhys goes on.

"She backed off the idea of killing you. Your rebels were dead—I convinced her it was enough. I thought it was the end of it." His breath hitches. "I only found out when you did. I think she viewed my defense of you as a warning sign—she didn't tell me any of it. And she kept me—confined. I tried to break into the minds of the soldiers she sent, but her damper on my power was too strong to hold them—and it was already done. She...she sent a daemati with them. To..." He falters and my wings stretch slightly with the desire to encase him in them, to protect him. "I think she wanted you to suspect me. To keep us from ever allying against her."

"Where did she confine you?" Viviane asks with arms wrapped around her midsection where a baby would roost. Perhaps one already is.

"Her bedroom." He answers and I know the words hit the group around me as deeply as they hit me. Deeper.

"Stories and words." Tamlin says and lounges back in his chair. "Is there any proof?"

"Proof—" Cassian snarls and half-rises from his seat with his wings beginning to flare. I'm ready to be at his back before Mor shoves out an arm to stop him.

"No." Rhys replies as Cassian is forced to sit. "But I swear it—upon my mate's life." The solemn swear echoes through the room even as Tamlin rolls his eyes and pure vindication shoots through me when Kallias turns to him with hard eyes.

"Why are you here, Tamlin?" A muscle ticks in Tamlin's jaw and I soak in every ounce of pleasure from that one motion.

"I am here to help you fight against Hybern."

"Bullshit." Cassian comments and I smile at the sentiment.

Thesan interrupts gracefully, "You will forgive us if we are doubtful. And hesitant to share any plans."

"Even when I have information on Hybern's movements?" These words from Tamlin are greeted with silence. He smiles at Feyre. "Why do you think I invited them to the house? Into my lands?" He looses a low snarl that has our side tensing. "I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think that you were enough to turn me from that? It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family." He sneers at Nesta and my fingers curl into fists. "Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain, and you still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn't you be his whore in return?"

"Watch your mouth." Mor snaps and I harrumph in agreement.

"I sometimes forget—what you are. Have the masks come off now, or is this another ploy?"

"Why don't you come closer and find out?" I purr, smirking when his own claws come out to play and I let my shadows flare around me. His mouth opens, but Helion beats him to it.

"You're beginning to become tedious, Tamlin. Take your lovers' spat elsewhere and let the rest of us discuss this war." He comments with his hand balancing on his hand.

"You'd be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one."

"No one says war can't be lucrative." Helion counters and it's good to see Tamlin steam.

"Enough." Kallias calls for civility. "We have our opinions on how the conflict with Hybern should be dealt with. Are you here as an ally of Hybern or Prythian?" He finally asks Tamlin and he manages to answer without being snide.

"I stand against Hybern."

"Prove it." Helion calls instantly. Tamlin lifts his hand and a stack of papers appears on the little table beside him.

"Charts of armies, ammunition, caches of faebane...everything carefully gleaned these months." He speaks every word to Feyre and I'm very tempted to call him a toddler mad at mommy, but Helion speaks first again.

"Noble as it sounds, who is to say that information is correct—or that you aren't Hybern's agent, trying to mislead us?"

"Who is to say that Rhysand and his cronies are not agents of Hybern, all of this a ruse to get you to yield without realizing it?"

"Common sense?" I offer while Nesta scoffs.

"If we need to ally against Hybern, you are doing a good job of convincing us not to band together, Tamlin." Thesan says, but the High Lord only shrugs with a hateful gaze back on Feyre and Rhys.

"I am simply warning you that they might present the guise of honesty and friendship, but the fact remains that he warmed Amarantha's bed for fifty years, and only worked against her when it seemed the tide was turning. I'm warning you that while he claims his own city was attacked by Hybern, they made off remarkably well—as if they'd been anticipating it. Don't think he wouldn't sacrifice a few buildings and lesser faeries to lure you into an alliance, into thinking you had a common enemy. Why is it that only the Night Court for word about the attack on Adriata—and were the only ones to arrive in time to play savior?"

"They received word," Amren's Varian cuts in coolly, "because I warned them of it." Tarquin's head whips towards the male, but Tamlin is unphased.

"Perhaps you're working with them, too. You're next in line after all."

"You're insane." Feyre murmurs. "Do you hear what you're saying?" She points at Nesta and I can finally see her anger boiling over. "Hybern turned my sisters into Fae—after your bitch of a priestess sold them out!" A tiny smile teases the corner of my mouth at seeing the power shimmering over her. I understand why Rhys fell.

"Perhaps Ianthe's mind was already in Rhysand's thrall. And what a tragedy to remain young and beautiful. You're a good actress—I'm sure the trait runs in the family."

"Careful," I hiss, my wings and shadows lengthening slightly. "what you say about my family." I'm halfway out of my seat and Rhys makes no move to stop me.

"If you want someone to blame for all of this, perhaps you should first look in the mirror." Nesta tells Tamlin after a low laugh, but all he does is snarl at her.

Cassian snarls right back, "Watch it." Tamlin looks over the two of them and snorts.

"Seems like other preferences run in the Archeron family, too." He comments and I can feel Feyre's power rising at the goad along with mine. Every glass in the room starts to shake.

"What do you want? An apology? For me to crawl back into your bed and play nice, little wife?" Feyre spits and I'm now fully standing just waiting for the order, for anything. My shadows are keening at the adrenaline and rage simmering in my blood.

"Why should I want spoiled goods returned to me?" I'm coiling to pounce as he continues, "The moment you let him fuck you like an—" Tamlin's jaw keeps wagging, but no sound tumbles out. My eyes cut to Rhysand beside me as he puts out his hand for me to sit down and I do.

"The gasping-fish look is a good one for you, Tamlin." He comments lightly while resting his head against the back of his chair.

*A/N*

Hee heeeeee this was a fun one!