The artwork above is not mine.

•༻☾☽༺•

Her room became a refuge. The muted red and gray colors soothed her turbulent thoughts. The massive bed was a fortress. Her bookshelves were loyal companions. The windows were glimpses of freedom, viewed from a prison of her own design.

Seren paced the length of the room. A lemony breeze wafted in through an open window. She ignored it, even as it cooled the sweat that dotted her brow. She worked her hands together nervously. Flames itched beneath her palms, but she refused to free them.

"I can't do this," Seren whispered. "They're going to learn the truth." She paced some more. "Beron will kill me if I don't learn what he wants to know." The words were old by now, but they still carried a heavy sense of dread. "And if Rhysand or anyone in this court learns the truth about me..."

It didn't matter how sweet Elain seemed. The minute Seren revealed herself as a traitor, the others would line up for a chance to slit her throat. She just knew it.

"What if Eris comes? What if someone tells him that I'm here and he says something that destroys my cover story?" She paused and scrubbed at her face. "And the swords and the Dread Trove. Beron hardly told me anything about them. How am I supposed to convince them to tell me about those objects? Am I supposed to wander around until I find them? What will that tell me about them?"

Seren's eyes stung. She flung open the doors of her balcony and strode outside. A stone bench rose from the edge of the balcony, close to the carved railing. She sat down and rested her chin atop her hands. The lights of Velaris twinkled below, reflecting off the river. She had yet to learn its name.

"Are you all right?"

She half turned, hearing the Shadowsinger's voice behind her. Azriel was perched atop the roof. Moonlight bathed his dark hair with a silvery hue. "Are you watching me?"

The shadows above his shoulders flickered as though amused. "I am the Spymaster. That's my job."

Seren turned away and continued to watch the river. "What is it called?"

"The Sidra." Boots thumped against the stone floor. Azriel leaned against the railing next to her. A shadow drifted off him and curled around her hand.

"Do they have minds of their own?" Seren asked. It was a struggle to keep her voice from shaking. The Spymaster's presence was strange. It was both comforting and terrifying.

"In a way. They are some of my spies." Azriel stretched out a hand and the shadows danced above his fingers. "They can tell me facts about a person, their thoughts, their plans, who they are..."

"Have they said anything about me?"

His hazel eyes drifted towards her. "No, and I find that strange." After a moment, he straightened. "Don't stay out here too long. Amren might investigate if you look like you're waiting for someone." Azriel spread his wings and leaped into the air.

Seren watched him briefly before returning to her room. She latched the door behind her. Seren pulled a cord away from the window drapes and tied it around the door handle, making sure it was secure. She crawled into bed and pulled the sheets over her head.

If his shadows can sense a person's true purpose, they might tell him that I'm a spy. Seren's heartbeat quickened and a small sob escaped her lips. What have I gotten myself into?

•༻☾☽༺•

Five days passed without word from Beron. Seren didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. She remained barricaded in her room. Occasionally, Azriel would fly past her balcony. He never stopped or demanded to be let in. He merely watched her for a few seconds before continuing on.

Elain knocked on her door daily. Seren never answered. She wouldn't have asked for clothes or food either, but two handmaidens brought them regularly. The females weren't wholly High Fae. Seren didn't know who they were and she didn't ask. They never introduced themselves. The twins would appear with food or clothes and disappear as soon as they'd tidied her room.

Already, Seren's wardrobe was stuffed full of clothes. She'd been given several pairs of pants, many shirts, dozens of shoes, and a few gowns. Her pajamas and undergarments were just as fine as her day clothes.

Seren watched as the twins disappeared yet again, leaving a tray of snack foods behind. She crossed the room and lifted the note card off the tray. Rhysand had left one on each tray that was delivered to her ever since she'd arrived.

If you'll permit it, I have some more questions for you. We can meet privately or Feyre can accompany us. The choice is yours.

~Rhys

The message was always the same, and he never signed the card as Rhysand or High Lord. Seren ate a grape and stared at the card. She hadn't answered his request yet. At first, she'd expected someone to come and retrieve her, whether she wanted to speak with him or not. No one had come. It was her choice, as he'd said.

If I want them to trust me, I need to be more open, Seren thought. I've just holed myself up in here. If that doesn't scream suspicious, I don't know what does. She dropped the card and rubbed her hands together. But what if I go and he guesses why I'm so nervous?

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The bruises on her face were almost gone. Her neck and arms had healed completely and her legs were looking better. Seren straightened and made herself smile. It looked unnatural. She smiled again, only smaller and just the tips of her teeth were showing. It was better. Seren closed her mouth entirely and practiced a small smile.

"All right. I'll go. Rhysand has already proven himself more gracious than Beron. If he catches onto me, I'll just beg for my life and hope for the best." She sounded infinitely more confident than she felt. She hoped it was enough to convince the High Lord and Lady.

•༻☾☽༺•

An hour later, Seren poked her head into a sitting room. Rhysand and Feyre sat near a fire. Feyre was rocking their son. His head was already capped with raven hair. Tiny wings were tucked close to his back. Seren rapped her knuckles against the door frame.

Rhysand glanced up and waved her in. "I'm glad to see you up and about. You look well."

"I feel much better." Seren sat down a healthy distance from them. "Thank you for what you've done for me."

"Of course." Rhysand smiled and she felt some of her anxiety drift away. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?" Seren shook her head. "Do you have any living relatives in any of the Courts? Someone you could stay with soon or someone who might learn of your whereabouts?"

"No, I have no relatives. Mother's parents died before I was born. She was an only child and my maternal grandparents had no extended family. On my father's side, I used to have two aunts and my grandparents. My grandparents died of old age. My aunts died thanks to...Her."

Rhysand's gaze darkened and Feyre gripped his hand tightly. Nyx stirred in his mother's arms, as though sensing their shift in demeanor. "I'm sorry. Many of us lost loved ones to Amarantha." Rhysand's voice was strained as he spoke her name.

Seren winced and lowered her gaze. I heard Father and Beron speaking of Rhysand then. They called him Amarantha's Whore. Is that true? She looked up and saw pain and anger in Rhysand's gaze. It was.

Rhysand drew in a steadying breath. "Is there anyone at all who might reveal your location to Beron?"

"Not that I know of. I don't think I was followed beyond the Autumn Court borders."

"I have scouts on the lookout, just in case."

And you have people spying on me, not that I blame you. I just hope they are bad at their jobs for once, she thought.

"And now, about your powers," Feyre said, interrupting her thoughts. "How long have you known you were a daemati?"

"I was seventeen when I used my powers for the first time. I've known for many years."

Rhysand tilted his head curiously. "Why were you never trained?"

"Father forbade it and Mother didn't want Beron to learn about them. I was never trained to use a weapon or to winnow either. Mother taught me about my fire magic and how to shield my mind. Winnowing, I learned on my own."

"How many times have you successfully slipped into someone's mind?"

"Four times, I believe. The first three times, I managed to read another's mind and see through their eyes. The fourth time, I was able to influence the person's actions."

Feyre glanced at Rhysand as he stroked his chin. "Would you like to learn to use them properly?" He asked.

Beron told me I should try to get Rhysand or Feyre to teach me, Seren recalled. "It might be beneficial."

"We can't train you right away," Feyre cut in. "First, we'd like to know that we can trust you not to use these powers against anyone in our court. Earn our trust, and we will train you. We can help you learn to fight with weapons as well as your mind, if you'd like."

"I'm not sure." Seren clenched her hands into fists. "The dagger I brought with me is the only weapon I've ever held. They...frighten me."

"If you wish to learn, we can teach you," Rhysand promised. "Once we know we can trust you, we'll begin your daemati training."

"And how will I gain your trust?"

The corner's of Feyre's mouth tilted up. "By being yourself."

Seren mulled over the words briefly. "Do you have any more questions for me?" They shook their heads. "Then I'll be going." She retreated towards the door and paused. "Your son is beautiful." Feyre smiled appreciatively and Rhysand shifted closer to them. Seren didn't miss the protective curve of his arm as he wrapped it around his mate's shoulders.

Seren sighed as soon as she was out of the room. That was a step in the right direction. If they do train me, I'll have to be extra careful about maintaining my shields. I can't let them down, even if Rhysand and Feyre ask. She waited for her anxieties to beat down on her. They did, but with less fury than before. Seren knit her brows and walked up the stairs towards her room.