He snorted, unbuttoning his jacket. I realized I stood in all my finery—with nothing to wear to sleep.
A snap of Rhys’s fingers, and my nightclothes—and some flimsy underthings—appeared on the bed. “I couldn’t decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from.”
“Pig,” I barked, snatching the clothes and heading to the adjoining bathing room.
The room was toasty when I emerged, Rhys in the bed he’d summoned from wherever, all light gone save for the murmuring embers in the hearth. Even the sheets were warm as I slid between them.
“Thank you for warming the bed,” I said into the dimness.
His back was to me, but I heard him clearly as he said, “Amarantha never once thanked me for that.”
Any warmth leeched away. “She didn’t suffer enough.”
Not even close, for what she had done. To me, to him, to Clare, to so many others.
Rhys didn’t answer. Instead he said, “I didn’t think I could get through that dinner.”
“What do you mean?” He’d been rather … calm. Contained.
“Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table … I hadn’t realized it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn’t protect you.”
“I managed just fine.”
“We owe them our gratitude for letting us use this house,” he said quietly, “but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.”
“A part of me feels the same way,” I admitted, nestling down into the blankets. “But if I hadn’t gone into those woods, if they hadn’t let me go out there alone … You would still be enslaved. And perhaps Amarantha would now be readying her forces to wipe out these lands.”
Silence. Then, “I am paying you a wage, you know. For all of this.”
“You don’t need to.” Even if … even if I had no money of my own.
“Every member of my court receives one. There’s already a bank account in Velaris for you, where your wages will be deposited. And you have lines of credit at most stores. So if you don’t have enough on you when you’re shopping, you can have the bill sent to the House.”
“I—you didn’t have to do that.” I swallowed hard. “And how much, exactly, am I getting paid each month?”
“The same amount the others receive.” No doubt a generous—likely too generous—salary. But he suddenly asked, “When is your birthday?”
“Do I even need to count them anymore?” He merely waited. I sighed. “It’s the Winter Solstice.”
He paused. “That was months ago.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“You didn’t … I don’t remember seeing you celebrate it.”
Through the bond, through my unshielded, mess of a mind. “I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want a party when there was already all that celebrating going on. Birthdays seem meaningless now, anyway.”
He was quiet for a long minute. “You were truly born on the Winter Solstice?”
“Is that so hard to believe? My mother claimed I was so withdrawn and strange because I was born on the longest night of the year. She tried one year to have my birthday on another day, but forgot to do it the next time—there was probably a more advantageous party she had to plan.”
“Now I know where Nesta gets it. Honestly, it’s a shame we can’t stay longer—if only to see who’ll be left standing: her or Cassian.”
“My money’s on Nesta.”
A soft chuckle that snaked along my bones—a reminder that he’d once bet on me. Had been the only one Under the Mountain who had put money on me defeating the Middengard Wyrm. He said, “So’s mine.”
CHAPTER
25
Standing beneath the latticework of snow-heavy trees, I took in the slumbering forest and wondered if the birds had gone quiet because of my presence. Or that of the High Lord beside me.
“Freezing my ass off first thing in the morning isn’t how I intended to spend our day off,” Rhysand said, frowning at the wood. “I should take you to the Illyrian Steppes when we return—the forest there is far more interesting. And warmer.”
“I have no idea where those are.” Snow crunched under the boots Rhys had summoned when I declared I wanted to train with him. And not physically, but—with the powers I had. Whatever they were. “You showed me a blank map that one time, remember?”
“Precautions.”
“Am I ever going to see a proper one, or will I be left to guess about where everything is?”
“You’re in a lovely mood today,” Rhys said, and lifted a hand in the air between us. A folded map appeared, which he took his sweet time opening. “Lest you think I don’t trust you, Feyre darling … ” He pointed to just south of the Northern Isles. “These are the Steppes. Four days that way on foot,” he dragged a finger upward and into the mountains along the isles, “will take you into Illyrian territory.”
I took in the map, noted the peninsula jutting out about halfway up the western coast of the Night Court and the name marked there. Velaris. He’d once shown me a blank one—when I had belonged to Tamlin and been little more than a spy and prisoner. Because he’d known I’d tell Tamlin about the cities, their locations.
That Ianthe might learn about it, too.
I pushed back against that weight in my chest, my gut.
