ⅩⅦ




𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕

" 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. "

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╰┈˚ · ° .  ᴀ ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀɪᴠᴇɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɴ. Once out of the throne room they had separated the twins. Maiven didn't know where her sister was.

She begrudgingly stripped herself of all her weapons. Even the hidden ones

"I'm sure that you will feel at home, little assassin" That is what Amarantha had said. And she was right.

Dread filled her body once she saw the dungeons. "I'm sure that you will feel at home, little assassin" She knew. Amarantha knew who she was. What she was.

Days passed and the only thing that she could hear were the screaming of the faeries behind the door.

Suddenly those screams were replaced by the scrape of the cell door against stone.

Two red-skinned faeries entered the cell. Maiven rose to her feet. One of them tried to reach for her arm, she ducked to the side glaring at said faerie

"There is no need for that. I will follow you" She hissed

The two red-skinned faeries clenched their jaws before gesturing for the human girl to go forward.

As they walked, Mai marked the path, just like she did when they first threw her in that cold cell. Picking out details in the hall—interesting cracks in the walls, features in the tapestries, an odd bend— anything to remind her of the way out of the dungeons.

Maiven entered the throne room already finding Feyre at the foot of the dais.

"Oh here she is. The other twin. I was asking your sister about your names. As I said to her, you know my name. Isn't it fair that I know yours?"

"Not really" Maiven answered coldly

Amarantha's jaw clenched at the girl's answer. Fury shone in her eyes.

"Rhysand," Amarantha said—not needing to raise her voice to summon him.

Casual, strolling steps sounded from behind the twins, who now standed beside each other. Those steps stopped when they were beside Maiven.

The High Lord of the Night Court bowed at the waist. Night still seemed to ripple off him, like some near-invisible cloak.

Amarantha lifted her brows. "Are these the girls you saw at Tamlin's estate?"

He brushed some invisible fleck of dust off his black tunic before he surveyed the Archeron sisters. His violet eyes held boredom—and disdain. "I suppose."

"But did you or did you not  tell me those girls," Amarantha said, her tone sharpening as she pointed to Clare and Ava, "were the one you saw?"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Humans all look alike to me."

Amarantha gave him a saccharine smile. "And what about faeries?"

Rhysand bowed again—so smooth it looked like a dance. "Among a sea of mundane faces, yours is a work of art."

At this Mai couldn't control herself as she rolled her eyes. She really wanted to snort too but at least she controlled that.

That was the most fake compliment I have ever heard— Maiven thought

Rhysand knew exactly how the twins looked— he'd recognized them that day at the manor. But Maiven said nothing. Just like Feyre.

"What are their names?" She demanded of Rhysand.

"How would I know? They lied to me."

"If you're inclined to play games, girls, then I suppose we can do this the fun way," Amarantha said. She snapped her fingers at the Attor, who reached into the crowd and grabbed someone. Red hair glinted as the Attor yanked Lucien forward by the collar of his green tunic.

Maiven tried to contain any facial expression that could indicate that he was a weakness. Even after all the hate that she reserved for everyone other than her sisters, Lucien was someone that she somewhat cared about. And he was going to get hurt because of them.

Amarantha flicked a finger in Rhysand's direction. The High Lord of the Night Court lifted a groomed brow. "Hold his mind," she commanded.

Lucien went utterly still, sweat gleaming on his neck as Rhysand bowed his head to the queen and faced him.

Behind them, pressing to the front of the crowd, came four tall, red-haired High Fae. Toned and muscled, some of them looking like warriors about to set foot on a battlefield, some like pretty courtiers, they all stared at Lucien—and grinned. The four remaining sons of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

"Their names, Emissary?" Amarantha asked Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders.

Lucien's brothers lurked on the edges of the crowd—no remorse, no fear on their handsome faces.

Amarantha sighed. "I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue." Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready—he was ready for Rhysand to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, himself, into dust.

"Their names?" she asked Tamlin, who didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on Lucien's brothers, as if marking who was smiling the broadest.

Amarantha ran a nail down the arm of her throne. "I don't suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien," she purred.

"If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you," said the tallest. He was lean, well dressed, every inch of him a court-trained bastard. Probably the eldest, given the way even the ones who looked like born warriors stared at him with deference and calculation—and fear.

Maiven watched all. Her eyes ice cold and her face a mask of boredom. But she was screaming on the inside.

Amarantha lifted her hand. Rhysand cocked his head, his eyes narrowing slightly on Lucien.

Lucien stiffened. A groan slipped out of him, and—

"Feyre!" The older twin shouted. "My name is Feyre."

Amarantha nodded and Rhysand stepped back. He hadn't even removed his hands from his pockets.

Lucien sagged on the ground, trembling. His brothers frowned—the eldest going so far as to bare his teeth at Feyre in a silent snarl.

"Feyre," Amarantha said, testing her name "An old name—from our earlier dialects." Her eyes then drifted to the younger twin "What about your name?"

Maiven waited a couple of seconds to answer, just enough time to see those sparkles of anger shine in her eyes.

"Maiven" The girl said

"Maiven" The Queen reaped, just like she did with Feyre's. "You are the younger twin, I suppose"

"Does it matter?" Maiven asked with a raised eyebrow

Amarantha narrowed her eyes before answering "I decide what matters, little assassin" She hissed. Taking a calming breath she turned towards Feyre "Well, Feyre. I promised you a riddle. Solve this, Feyre, and you, your sister, your High Lord, and all his court, may immediately leave with my blessing. Let's see if you are indeed clever enough to deserve one of our kind."


There are those who seek me a lifetime but never we meet, And those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.

At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,

But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.

By large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet, But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.

For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow, When I kill, I do it slow ...


As Feyre said nothing a ripple of laughter spread across those assembled, the loudest from Lucien's brothers. Rhysand was watching her, wreathed in night and smiling faintly.

"Think on it," Amarantha said consolingly, and flicked a grin down at her ring—at the eye swiveling within. "When it comes to you, I'll be waiting."

Just as she said that the door opened. With careful silent steps he entered the room. His pointed ears showed through the long black straight hair.

She knew who entered the throne room. She would have recognized him everywhere. Terror. That is what Maiven was feeling. Her eyes widened and her heart beated furiously. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she met Rhysand's eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed as he couldn't understand what made the girl, who just seconds ago was calm and unbothered, a terrified mess.

The male walked forward, passing Rhysand and the twins reaching the dais.

He bowed to the waist. A grin on his lips.

"My Queen." He said

At the sound of his voice Maiven squeezed her eyes. She turned towards Feyre who she too, was watching her sister confused. She had never seen her so afraid.

"I'm sorry" Maiven mouthed to her

And those walls around her heart were up in mere seconds. Her fear was maskered behind the facade of the assassin. The one who was void of any emotion.

"Braken. My friend. A long time passed since I last saw you" Amarantha purred

"I know, my queen. You must forgive me." Braken answered "You said that you have something of mine, but I can already see what it is"

At his words Maiven squared her shoulders, arms behind her back as she took a couple of steps forward.

Everything seemed to still. The faeries and High Fae in the crowd stared at the girl with confusion. No one seemed to know what was happening.

Amarantha watched with wicked amusement as the girl didn't dare to look from the ground.

Braken turned around and waited for the girl.

Feyre. Feyre was here. Feyre was here and He was here too. That is everything Maiven could think of as she started down at the cold marble floor.

And then she kneeled.

Both Maiven's knees touched the floor as her head bowed down in submission.

It wasn't for Amarantha. No. It was for him. For Braken.

He stared at her with a predatory grin. His eyes glistened as he spoke.

"Hello my little creature"  





˗ˏˋ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ˊˎ˗

Hello everyone! New chapter!

Yes, another chapter today. I just couldn't stop and I really wanted to write this.

Anyways thank you for reading this and if you'd like, please, let me know what you thought of this chapter with a comment and a star.

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

– 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐚 ☾

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