Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I don’t see why I can’t go too.”

“I’ve explained why. And even if you don’t like my explaining, it doesn’t change the fact that you are not going.” Cassian checked the daggers strapped to his sides one last time while his son glowered at him with hazel eyes the same shade as his own. He tried to ignore that ferocious glare. “I can see why and so can your mother.”

Nesta’s opinion on this matter was forge welded into place. Cassian also wasn’t about to budge. No amount of reasoning or bargaining or glares or arguments would get him to change his mind.

Rhodes’ wings lifted in indignation. “If Nyx is going so should I.”

“That’s not how this works, Rhodes. You know that,” Cassian said, the repetitive argument wearing on him. He wrestled with the dread that coiled in his chest at the idea of either of them going. But Nyx wasn’t his son.

No, Nyx was the High Lord and High Lady’s firstborn and heir, and Rhys and Feyre had decided he could at least see the Hewn City this year. While they and Mor watched over and distracted the Court of Nightmares in that obsidian and ebony throne room, Cassian and Azriel would show Nyx a part of the city. It would be introduction, nothing in-depth. Even though Nyx would be invisible and shielded and constantly guarded, Cassian didn’t like it. Neither did Az. But they knew that Rhys had been introduced to that Court at a younger age and in a more brutal sink or swim kind of way. His father had taken him to the center of the city and left him, telling him to find his own way back to the Moonstone Palace.

 Nyx knew that story as well, having learned it from Amren in what was supposed to be a cautionary tale. Ever the ambitious negotiator, he had wielded his skills and knowledge to convince his begrudging parents to let him step foot into the Hewn City once he turned thirteen.

Rhys and Feyre wanted to go with him, but it was easier to concentrate the most dangerous players in one area. Also, they so rarely went out into the city proper, their presence there would draw more attention than they wanted. Sending Azriel and Cassian with him and monitoring the situation from afar was the best and most acceptable solution the Inner Circle had come up with.

Rhodes continued his pacing. He was walking an unwavering line back and forth across Cassian and Nesta’s room while Cassian prepared for going down into that pit below the Moonstone Palace. Rhodes turned on his heel. “He’s not that much older than me. I’m just as tall as he is.” He had been taller until Nyx hit a growth spurt a few months ago.

Heat burned alongside the tension in his chest as Cassian made a face at his ten-year-old. “How is that going to help?”

“Because,” Rhodes said, turning toward him, chin jutting out. “It will.”

Cassian knew what this was really about. Striding over, he put a hand on top of Rhodes’ head, mussing his wavy dark brown hair with its touch of summer bronze. “I swear Az and I will protect him.”

Rhodes was desperately worried about his cousin stepping without him into that den of snakes and spiders, regardless of the fact that Rhodes didn’t know how to deal with them either. He wanted to be there in case Nyx got into trouble. Which, honestly, Rhodes had been through enough misadventures with Nyx to know that was a possibility. After all, Trouble was Nyx’s nickname.

“I still want to go,” Rhodes argued. He grabbed Cassian’s wrist with both hands and peered around his arm, gaze pleading. “I need to be there. Please, Da?”

Cauldron boil him, he wished Nesta was here. She was supposed to be, as was Gwyn, but at the last minute, there had been an issue at the Valkyries' camp on Eventide. The small island off the coast of Night and Day Courts had become a sort of permanent training ground for the Valkyries. Azriel had winnowed the two of them there before joining most of the others at the Moonstone Palace. Amren and Varian had volunteered to stay back in Velaris to keep an eye on the city. Elain had elected to stay as well since she was elbows-deep in mating ceremony planning. She had said she would spend the entire time worrying if she went, so she needed to stay busy to not think about where Nyx was going.

Seryn and Rhodes had begged to still tag along to the Moonstone Palace, and Lucien had volunteered to watch over them while the others went below. Azriel had tried to convince them to go with Gwyn and Nesta, but then he and Cassian had finally given in, thinking that bringing them to the palace might stop Rhodes from continuing his argument.

It hadn’t. 

Cassian shook his head. Rhodes gave an irritated growl, shoving his hand away. He stormed toward the nearest massive floor to ceiling open window. 

Cassian frowned and followed him. “You can be mad all you want, but you’ll have to be mad up here.”

“I will!” Rhodes shouted back, wings flaring out.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Rhodes,” Cassian said, trying to keep his own anger down. Why couldn’t he get Rhodes to understand that this was for his own good? Cassian couldn’t let him go down there yet. “And you better not—”

Rhodes shot out of the window, his wings catching the summer mountain winds. It was a brilliant afternoon, the sky an eye-searing clear blue and cloudless.

Cassian stepped into the open space and bellowed after him, his own wings lifting. “Rhodes!”

“Good to see he’s not upset.”

Azriel stood in the doorway, also dressed in fighting leathers, Siphons on full display. Two swords peeked over his shoulders between his wings.

Cassian scowled at the sarcasm and watched Rhodes abruptly turn and fly back toward the palace, heading for the other side. He wasn’t angry enough to fly beyond where the children were allowed to go without supervision. “He’ll get over it.” He turned and walked over to Azriel, who he knew was just as uneasy about this as he was, though he dealt with it differently. Covered it much better.

Together, they made their way through the hallway and down a set of spiral stairs. The Moonstone Palace wasn’t used very often nowadays since most of their focus was fully on Velaris and fixing the world beyond the Night Court. Besides new laws about marrying off their daughters and some education and library initiatives, the Hewn City had been left to its own devices. While it continued to be a hateful place filled with people who preferred to give themselves over to vices, there were sparks of hope in the city. Even so, Cassian didn’t want Rhodes down there any time soon.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he grumbled to Az. He also thought it very loudly. If thoughts could be underlined, Cassian’s were at that moment. Judging by the grim expression on his brother’s face, Az agreed with him.

I’m aware of your opinion, Cass, Rhys responded, You don’t have to yell it at me again.

Yes, he did. Nyx was still too young to go down into that corrupted dark—

He’s old enough, although I hate it, Rhys said, We can’t keep him from it forever, as much as Feyre and I would like to. You’re only going to show him the Midnight Boulevard. That’s it.

The Boulevard was the Hewn City’s garden district, a series of parks made up of stalactites and stalagmites, grottos with iridescent rocks, and clear pools where blind fish swam. Statues of grotesquely beautiful creatures dotted the paths alongside flowers and bushes carved from jewels and crystals.

It wouldn’t take long, and Rhys’ mental focus would be on Nyx the entire time while Feyre held court. It was just a first glimpse of the Hewn City.

Rhodes is here, Rhys said, sounding tired, One might say he’s exceedingly displeased with you. Maybe all of us.

That was an understatement. Cassian could hear his son complaining to Rhys and Feyre before he and Azriel even reached the main floor.

“—should get to go. Right, Nyx?” 

“It’s not going to be pleasant,” Feyre said, a stern note in her voice. She softened it when she next spoke. “I don’t want either of you to go, truthfully, but Nyx has a duty to this place. As awful as it is. 

“I do too,” Rhodes protested. “A different one. And I know it isn’t going to be pleasant, that’s why I have to go.”

Cassian shared a look with Azriel before they stepped out of the stairwell. Rhodes stood in front of Rhys and Feyre, hands balled into fists by his sides. They were dressed in severe Night Court black attire, each part of their matched outfits somehow giving off the appearance of sharpness. As if they were untouchable. Nearby, Nyx was perched on the edge of a plush ivory-shaded lounge chair. Unlike his parents, everything he wore was bespelled to make a person's eyes slide away and not notice him. He had on black and gray toned clothes, trousers and a hooded tunic, rough black gloves on both hands.

At a low table across from that group, Seryn and Lucien were sitting on pillows, a game board on the marble table between them. They had given up pretending to play the game. 

Seryn lifted her brows at Cassian and Azriel as they appeared. She flicked her gaze to Rhodes meaningfully and then looked back at them again. Setting a game piece down on the board, she half-smiled at Cassian.

Her expression very clearly said, did you want help? 

Cassian lifted his own brows back at his niece. He wouldn’t mind if she lent a hand.

“Your only duty right now is going to your lesson with Lucien,” Cassian said. Years ago, Lucien had stepped into the role of tutoring the young ones on court etiquette and politics whenever he was around. The task was easy for him since he had visited all of the courts when he was younger and was still on good terms with most of them. Spring Court barely existed, and most of the other Courts ignored Autumn. He was also the most knowledgeable about the fae and human kingdoms, empires, and lands on the continent.

Rhodes flung a scowl at Lucien like being ordered to stay behind was somehow the redheaded fae's fault. When Lucien lifted an eyebrow in silent rebuke at that treatment, Rhodes at least looked mildly embarrassed by his own behavior.

“Being rude isn’t doing anything for your side of things,” Cass added.

“You can go later, Rhodes,” Nyx said, shrugging, “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“That’s not—you don’t—” Rhodes snarled, wings rustling along with his agitation. 

“I don’t want you to both go,” Seryn cut in, teal gaze trained on her cousins. “I’m not going—”

The shadows that had followed Azriel into the room thickened. A few curled up around Seryn’s feet. One wrapped around her wrist. The shadows displayed the anxiety that Azriel didn’t outwardly show at the thought of her in the Hewn City. Cass knew that Azriel would prefer she never go beyond the stupidly huge front doors.

“And I don’t want to,” she said evenly, glancing at her father. Beside Cass, Azriel gave a quiet relieved sigh. 

Seryn was an incredibly willful child, but she was learning to pick her battles. This was something she either knew not to push Azriel on or she truly didn’t want to go. She knew enough stories that it was possibly the latter. 

She moved another piece on the game board, bumping it into one of Lucien’s. “Here’s the real problem. Rhodes, if you went, Papa and Uncle Cass would have to worry about you, too, not just Nyx.”

“They don’t have to worry about me,” Nyx said with a smirk, “I can handle it.” His cockiness earned him side-eyed looks from Feyre and Rhys. Before he lost his own position on this visit, he dropped backward onto the lounge chair, smushing his wings.

Lucien barely glanced at the game before moving one of his pieces, knocking a small piece of Seryn’s over. He smiled as she opened her mouth to argue then closed it, staring hard at the board. “She’s not wrong. And we all know that Nyx needs undivided attention or he tends to…”

“Get bored?” Seryn suggested.

“Stray into mischief,” Lucien said.

“That’s what happens when he gets bored,” Seryn said with a nod.

“Thanks, Ser, what a compliment,” Nyx said airily.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’d like for you to stay with Seryn,” Azriel said to Rhodes, who was looking like he had stopped feeling bad about his earlier Lucien-focused glaring. “She also has a bad habit of straying into mischief, as Lucien put it.”

“Papa!” Seryn said, getting to her feet, one wing lifting higher than the other. “I’m not as bad as Nyx.”

Azriel didn't respond, but the corner of his mouth tugged up. On the lounge, Nyx mumbled disagreements under his breath to the unsympathetic ceiling.

“Very true words,” Rhys said to Seryn with a smile. “But Rhodes is usually good at making sure you don’t give into that mischievous streak.”

“Usually,” Feyre repeated, referring to the trio’s most recent misadventure in the Illyrian mountains. They had gone off on a dare that had gone wrong, ending in a handful of injuries spread out among them. Seryn and Nyx had both been more eager about the dare than Rhodes, who usually acted as a voice of reason for them.

Seryn walked past Rhodes, the shadows playing around the silvery glowy wisps of light that drifted near her. She headed over to the lounge and nudged Nyx’s foot with hers. “Tell him you won’t do dumb risky things so he feels better.”

Nyx waved a hand back and forth. “I won’t do risky things. I don’t do dumb things. Feel better or else, Rhodes.”

Seryn grabbed Nyx’s tunic and tugged, pulling him up to a sitting position. He reluctantly sat up. She widened her eyes at him and let go.

Getting up, Nyx looked at his parents, then at his uncles, and then Rhodes. “I’m really going to be all right. They’re not going to let me do anything dangerous, and I just want to go look.”

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, watching his son as he frowned at Nyx. Rhodes shifted back, unconsciously crossing his own arms just like Cassian. It looked like he was about to say something he was going to regret, but he clenched his teeth in a grimace instead. “If you act like an idiot and something bad happens, I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, fair,” Nyx said with a grin. He shot a smile up at Feyre. “I guess he’d have to get in line after you?”

Feyre reached out and gave a lock of his black hair an affectionate tug. “You know better than to act foolish down there.”

“I won’t, Mum,” Nyx said, his blue-gray eyes darkening with the gravity of the situation. He looked so much like Rhys at that age, memories of days at the camp rushed through Cassian’s head.

Mor swept into the room as Cassian walked over to Rhodes, reaching out to catch him by the shoulder before he could stomp off. Mor’s dress appeared a nearly-black shade of purple at first but when she moved, it seemed to be made of burnished gold. Her expression was anything but happy. She had argued the hardest against Rhys and Feyre’s decision.

Walking past Seryn, she absently brushed a hand over the girl’s wavy black hair before nodding to Rhys and Feyre. “They’re surprised, as we hoped, but they’ll be waiting for us.”

Rhys nodded and then tilted his head to the side, indicating a nearby alcove. “Feyre, Nyx, a moment.”

As they went with him, Mor following into that smaller family meeting, Cassian pulled Rhodes over to the side. He took a knee so that he was more level with him. “Wanting to protect Nyx isn’t bad. I know you want to go for that,” he said, “But I need you to stay here.” Cassian didn’t trust himself to be able to focus on anything besides Rhodes if he did go. Besides, there was no way he was changing his mind, and even if he was considering it for some damn reason, he’d have to talk to Nesta first. They made parenting decisions together, especially big ones like this.

Rhodes looked down at his feet. “I wouldn't be a burden.”

Cassian let out an unexpected laugh and chucked Rhodes under the chin when he looked like he was about to yell again. That temper, he had a double dose of it. “You’re anything but a burden. Stay here and look after Seryn.”

By Azriel’s side, Seryn sighed at the overheard request but she didn’t protest or mention that was why Lucien was there. Lucien also wisely didn't comment. Anything to convince Rhodes to stay.

Az sat down on a sofa and gathered Seryn into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head. Their whispered conversation was probably all about how they were actually the ones having to look out for everyone.

“I’m still going to be mad,” Rhodes said, “You said I could.”

Cassian ruffled his hair again. “You can.” Rhodes could stay mad the whole time Cassian was down in the Hewn City, as long as he stayed safe. That was Cassian’s main concern.

When Rhys and Feyre stepped back into the main area with Mor, Nyx wasn’t with them. It wasn’t until something jabbed Cassian in the side, getting a shocked huff out of him, that Cassian realized his nephew was invisible, his scent and presence shielded completely by Rhys’ power.

He shot out his hand and snatched the hood of Nyx's tunic. He gave him a small reproving shake. “This isn’t a game, Nyx.”

“Got it,” Nyx said, straightening up. “No more games.”

Cassian wondered in that same loud way as they left Seryn, a few lingering shadows, and a moping Rhodes with Lucien, if anyone would notice if he locked his invisible nephew in a wardrobe before they went down to the city.

I wish you would, Rhys mused, It would save me a great deal of stress.

It was his choice…

But since we already have this planned out and I can’t put it off forever, let’s continue. One hour, nothing more.

As if Cassian and Azriel would let Nyx stay one extra minute in the city.

Chapter Text

Many of the paths through the Midnight Boulevard were made of gravel that faintly glowed, a soft pulse fanning out from each step a person took. Cassian noticed as he and Azriel moved onto one such path, bristling with weaponry and stay-the-hell-away expressions, there were no extra steps in the space between them. He had known there wouldn’t be and that it was a good thing, but on a certain he didn’t like not being sure that Nyx was there. He reached out as if to touch Azriel’s arm and indicate where he wanted to go, but really—

I’m still here, you almost poked me in the ear, Nyx said in his mind. His nephew's voice was like a barely clawed warning bap from an annoyed adolescent cat.

How was Cassian supposed to know? With Nyx completely shielded to the point that they couldn’t even hear or see his footsteps, he was going to have to trust that his nephew wouldn’t leave.

I said I wouldn’t. I think a little belief in my word wouldn’t hurt. I’m not…I wouldn’t do something that stupid, Uncle Cass.

It was the unconcealed hurt in Nyx’s tone that made Cassian sigh. “Sorry,” he muttered under his breath. Nyx had been mentally quiet on the way over, not saying anything until just now. He had assumed that he was plotting some kind of escape, but now Cassian wondered if he was overwhelmed.

At Azriel’s glance, Cass gave a tiny shrug and indicated the space between them with a tilt of his chin. Azriel looked away, understanding without any further explanation who the apology had been for. They took the path to the right, a massive ebony archway stretching across the way. Stone gargoyles reached down with clawed hands, frozen into place, agony on their faces.

There were legends about how they hadn’t always been made of stone, that an ancient lady of this court had tricked these gargoyles who once lived beneath the mountain. They had been a kind, welcoming, and industrious people. She tied them to frames in these exact positions and left them out on the mountainside. They had pleaded and screamed as dawn came and their bodies slowly turned to granite and obsidian and quartz, the blood in their veins solidifying into gold. Cassian looked away from the smallest gargoyles as they passed under the arch.

Is that story real? Cassian felt Nyx’s arm bump against his own. If he could, he would have looped an arm around his shoulders.

It was just a story, he thought hard. Not real. He didn’t know—Cassian winced and tried to put a better shield in his mind, not knowing exactly how to keep Nyx away from his broadcasting thoughts but keep the connection open at the same time. He wanted to keep Rhys and Feyre aware of what was going on. He could feel the two of them at the edge of his conscious thoughts. They were waiting for any call or warning. He could shield, sort of, but… He tried to mentally wave at where he could feel Rhys, attempting to get his attention and convey what he wanted.

I’ll take care of it, Rhys said. Is he all right?

Rhys must have been keeping himself from constantly talking to Nyx.

Nyx was holding up but becoming increasingly uncomfortable based on how he seemed to be moving back and forth between keeping his arm against Cassian’s or Az’s. Cassian could see when he was closer to Az, how Az’s arm moved forward almost imperceptibly when it was nudged. But overall, he seemed okay.

Rhys gave the mental equivalent of a nod and pulled back, retreating to the edge of Cassian's mind again.

The garden was mostly empty. Most of the city’s upper class High Fae would be gathered at the throne room where Rhys and Feyre were holding court. The majority of the Boulevard was reserved for the rich lords and ladies who played the part of nobility in the city. Only the farthest reaches of the parks were for anyone else, and then those were still for High Fae only. The way they treated other faeries here was abysmal. Usually they could only hold service jobs or positions of very little importance.

Cass and Azriel ignored those restrictions, just like they ignored the stares and sneers of the few fae they did pass by. No one would dare to tell either Illyrian that they couldn’t go somewhere in the Hewn City. However that didn’t stop them from giving dirty looks. Cassian purposefully snapped his wings once. A snooty female with brown curly hair jumped and dropped her disdainful expression and the male she was with darted forward, leaving her behind.

Azriel glanced over at him. While they couldn’t talk mentally, it was easy to read the look in his eyes. Don’t antagonize them today.

Not with Nyx here. Knowing that they would also hate the invisible boy at his side didn’t help his mood.

The path curved, taking them past a pond. Lily pads fashioned out of emeralds floated across the clear water. A clockwork frog trilled a melody. Below, eyeless fish swam in lazy circles, their massive pale fins like smoke under the water.

Sometimes, every now and then, he had to grudgingly admit that parts of the Hewn City were interesting. Perhaps beautiful. He had given music from here to Nesta, after all. And again, some of the people were trying to do better, be better. They were just few and far between.

A hand tugged on his elbow. He realized that Az had already stopped and was standing by the railing around the pond. Nyx wanted to linger.

Vines carved from quartz wrapped around the railing and soft grey-green moss grew on those vines. Cassian noticed how a part of the moss suddenly squished downward in the shape of a hand. Nyx must have been leaning over the railing to watch the fish. The shield kept him from activating the magic around gravel path but it didn’t seem to affect the moss.

Azriel noticed too. He put his hand beside where Nyx’s was, masking it. “Take care,” Az said in a low voice.

The moss lifted back up. He felt an apology flicker in his mind.

They kept walking, eventually moving onto a new path that was paved. Little flecks of obsidian glinted in the light of the lamps that lined the way.

Cassian? This time it was Feyre. How is he?

Still managing it. At least the Boulevard was one of the least nasty places in the city. Ahead of them massive twisted iron-wrought stalks reached up by the path, each topped with a sunflower fashioned from gold and yellow diamonds. Cassian was letting Azriel lead them. His brother had his shadows scouting ahead, so they constantly flitted back to give him new directions. It allowed them to avoid practically everyone now that they were farther into the park.

Only thirty minutes left. Feyre’s relief tinged every word.

Thank the Mother that time was going by relatively quickly. He wondered if it was dragging for Rhodes. Or if his son was attempting to sneak down the stairs—

Lucien has them practicing dancing, Feyre said, a very slight touch of laughter in her thoughts, Something complicated from Autumn Court.

At least Rhodes tolerated dancing and moving his feet and not stepping on Seryn’s toes would keep him busy.

That’s what Lucien thought.

It wouldn’t be such a hard thing to call the fox brother-in-law in a couple months, Cassian supposed. He yanked his thoughts back into line, focusing. Soon they would turn around and head back to the Moonstone Palace. Perhaps at the end of the path.

They crossed over river on a bridge carved from micah-speckled smoky quartz. To their left, there were smaller paths that led to the front doors of a line of townhouses. They loomed in the shadows, yellow light spilling from some of the windows.

Who lives in those? Nyx touched his elbow.

Some of the pricks who were groveling in front of the twin thrones right now. They would be the only people who could afford to have their homes directly connected to the Boulevard. Not the richest, who lived in the mansions farther up in the walls, but the fae directly below them in terms of wealth.

Black lampposts with family crests hanging from them indicated the entrances to most of the townhouse walkways. Ahead of them an odd contraption dangled from one of those lampposts instead of a crest. It was a roughly crafted box of iron bars and wires hanging by a chain from the bar where the crest would normally go. That had to be strangest mailbox he had ever seen. An uneasy feeling curled through his chest as they walked closer.

While the wires had made it difficult to see into the box from far away, it was easier to make out the contents closer up. It didn’t make sense. It looked like the box, only a foot and a half high and a foot across, was filled with dirty rags. Not exactly the sort of decorations these people or really anyone would display outside a home.

He looked to Az and then the lamppost, conveying that he wanted a closer look. Azriel glanced around, searching for prying eyes, and then walked with him over toward the strange box.

The uneasy feeling grew as he noticed the small padlock on the front of the box. None of this was adding up. When he reached out to touch the padlock, the box moved on its own, swaying slightly on the chain. Had someone locked up a pet in there as punishment? He wouldn't put it past them; their cruelty was boundless.

Putting his hands on either side of the box, he held it steady. He was tall enough that he had to bend a little to peer inside.

What is it? Nyx asked.

Cassian wasn’t sure. It really did look like a bundle of brown rags.

At least until it moved, the top part of the cloths lifting a couple inches, enough for him to see two big uptilted golden eyes peek out at him above hollow cheeks and a cat-like button of a nose. Loose dull brown curls slipped out from the ragged hood. Those eyes sparked with fear as they met his. Bony tawny-skinned hands pulled the rags down tighter, hiding the tiny faerie girl huddled inside of them.

Rage burned through Cassian, turning him into an inferno as he realized he was holding a cage with a child in it in his hands.

Chapter Text

Cassian’s Siphons blazed. A child, they had put this girl in a cage and left her out here, discarded and starving. No one deserved this, she couldn’t even stand up, the box was too small. How long had she been in there?

A rough arc of red power sliced through the chain holding the cage to the lamppost as he pulled it close, hating how it dangled in midair, suspending the girl over the path. She was powerless to save herself if the chain broke on its own. The smallest whimper came from behind the bars and wires. The muffled frightened sound further fueled his fiery anger, increasing the need to destroy whoever had done this.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Nyx asked with raw anxiousness, breaking the rule of silence. Cassian didn’t like upsetting him, but he could hardly think straight right now.  

Beside him, Azriel’s wings spread in response to Cassian’s visible wrath. A shadow that had been investigating what had made him angry slid from the bars of the cage and hurried back to Azriel. Cassian set the cage on the ground as carefully as he could in his current state. He grabbed the padlock and snapped it off.

The square door popped open. “You can come out,” Cassian said. He kept his tone much softer than he felt was possible at the moment.

Azriel knelt beside him, pulling Nyx down as well judging by how he grabbed the air. A curtain of shadows wreathed all of them. Az’s eyes were nearly black with a fury that echoed Cassian’s, and Cassian knew the shadows had told him what—who was in the box.

“Please come out,” Cassian said as he touched the edge of the door, his voice breaking over the words. “It’s all right now.”

Please tell me what’s happening, Nyx said.

Cassian’s thoughts were too torched to explain anything clearly, but maybe Nyx could piece it together from the embers.

Movement. The girl slid toward the front of the cage. She reached out, fingers trembling from either fear or hunger. Her hands were so thin. So little. Cassian held out his own hand, ready to help her as she stepped out. Her legs would have to be aching from being cramped in there.

Then the fingers wrapped around the cage door and pulled it shut.

“No, don’t—" Cassian looped a finger around the bars near her hand. His hand made hers look even smaller. He gave a gentle tug, hoping she would let go. Instead, she tightened her fragile grip.

“I can’t,” a quiet voice like wind through reeds said, “It’ll hurt.”

Cassian’s chest tightened. “You don’t have to stay in there, no one’s going to hurt you for leaving.”

She pulled back, holding the door closed with her body weight against his light grasp. Locking herself in. “It will hurt.” The rags on her right arm slid back, exposing two black and red bands of blocked symbols around her skinny wrist. A pair of binding spells, presumably with matching ones on her left wrist and her ankles. Magic shackles.

Something in him snapped. The killing power within him rose to answer.

Red light blasted toward the house behind the lamppost, blowing the front door into splinters, the windows shattering inward in a shower of glass shards. The roof crumpled from the crash of an oversized crimson war hammer against the iron shingles. Nyx yelped. Cassian knew no one was home since the owners would be in the throne room and the servants would be sent to the far corners of the city while the High Lord and Lady were about. He wished the High Fae were there.

In response to that explosion, he could feel Nesta’s concern reach him, like a touch of cool winter wind from far away. He couldn’t send any reassurance down their bond, not now, just the thought of the girl closing herself back into that cage, terrified at the punishment for escaping.

The remnants of a silver flame began climbing the bond.

Azriel grabbed his arm. “Cassian, you’re scaring the girl and Nyx.”

“I’m not scared, Uncle Az.” Nyx’s voice shook.

Cassian picked up the cage, wrapping his arms around it, holding it to his chest. “Did you see her wrist?” he snapped at Azriel.

Darkness coursed around his brother, clouding his expression. “Terrifying her isn’t going to break those spells.”

Rhys stepped through Azriel’s shadows, his right hand finding Nyx’s shoulder as the boy reappeared, his grey-blue eyes enormous. Power thrummed as Rhys stared at all three of them and the townhouse crumbling behind the lamppost. “What are you doing—”

Cassian hurled all of his thoughts at Rhys at once, a lion’s booming roar into the endless night sky. Rhys actually took a step back.

Violet eyes flicked to the cage clutched in Cassian’s arms then up to the townhouse and then the entire row. The rest of the windows and doors burst as the townhouses shook, rattling as Rhys unleashed his power with deadly calm.

Nyx unconsciously moved to Azriel’s side though Cassian knew the shadowsinger wasn’t actually handling it much better than either of them. Azriel had been locked away once. He had no patience or mercy for those who inflicted that on others, especially a child. From the townhouses, Cassian could hear crashes and bangs, furniture breaking, dishes falling from shelves, expensive cloth shredding.

The shadows were wreaking absolute havoc.

One moment they were standing in the Boulevard and the next they were in the massive council chambers beyond the throne room.

Cassian didn’t let up his grip on the cage. Inside, the girl had gone silent, but he could feel her shaking. It was making the cage tremble. He didn’t know what to say to soothe her. At the other end of his and Nesta’s bond, the flames rose, faint but present, Nesta’s response to the girl echoing his own.

Nearby, Nyx took in the room, the pillars, the lightning-shaped table. He pulled his hands back, knowing better than to let them brush the razor-sharp edges of that table. Rhys put his hand on the boy’s arm for a moment, some silent conversation passing between them.

Nyx became invisible again as Feyre and Mor walked through the door. They were followed by a stormy-eyed but obedient Keir. Mor had her hand wrapped around the neck of a High Fae male that Cassian somewhat recognized, forcing him to shuffle alongside her bent over.

When Feyre reached Cassian’s side, her gaze flicking from her invisible son to the cage, he knew by the look in her eyes that Rhys had already told her and Mor everything. The male Mor was dragging was the reason the girl was in the cage.

Mor released him with a shove. He scrambled to right himself. His long white-gold hair was falling out of a loose ponytail. Severe blue eyes darted around, and he readjusted his collar, every cut of his deep green jacket and trousers etched with gold thread.

Cassian’s power lashed out, a scarlet shield pounding the male back to the floor.

Keir sighed. “High Lord, as much as you know I hate to question your rabid bat’s actions—”

As he stepped up beside Cassian, Azriel added a layer of blue, making the crushed male cry out as his bones slowly began to break.

Feyre moved, stepping in front of Nyx to block his view.

“Deimos,” Rhys said to the male on the floor as he leaned against the table, his powers keeping it from cutting him. He crossed his arms. “I didn’t know the ban on having slaves had been lifted.”

At that accusation, Keir stiffened. “There are no human slaves here.”

Rhys slowly looked from Keir to the cage in Cassian’s arms. He lifted an eyebrow, and his half-smile spoke of danger. “Would you like to tell us more about this faerie girl then, Deimos?”

The shields pressed down harder. Deimos wheezed, fingers scrabbling at the floor.

Rhys glanced over at Cassian. I understand and I feel the same—

No, he didn’t entirely understand. Az understood. Feyre understood. But Rhys couldn’t, not exactly, know what it was like to be a starving, powerless child. Even as a boy, he had power. Status of some sort. Food, most of the time.

All right, I don’t understand, I apologize. But if you don’t let up, he can’t speak, Cassian.

Cassian and Azriel let their shields dissipate, allowing the male to get to his knees. He coughed and rubbed his chest where some of his ribs had cracked. “I don’t have slaves.” His wary blue gaze latched onto the cage. He sneered. “That is not a slave.”

“She has binding spells on her,” Cassian growled. Across the room, Mor’s eyes widened, horror racing across her face. Azriel nodded, confirming it.

Deimos shrugged and then looked like he regretted it, cringing. “Still not a slave.”

“Explain,” Rhys said, the word a dagger.

“She’s a servant in my household,” Deimos said, “A maid. She cleans the fireplaces, sweeps, other menial tasks. She receives a wage.”

“She’s a child,” snapped Cassian, “She’s too young to be a servant.”

“She’s a brùnaidh." Cassian didn't know that word but the flicker of surprised recognition on Rhys' face told him his brother had heard it before. "They’re capable of working when they’re young,” Deimos answered, “They like hard work.”

Azriel’s shadows poured into the room, raising up from the corners, slithering across the floor. They ringed Deimos. He flinched back.

“Why is she in this thing?” Cassian demanded.

Now Deimos made a face, his shoulders sliding up, eyes narrowing. “She was caught stealing.”

Cassian set the cage on top of the table. He touched the door again, which he had turned so that she didn’t have to face Deimos. The girl still had her hands wrapped around the door, but the hood had fallen back. She had a heart-shaped face smudged with soot and grime. Large pointed furred ears were folded down against her tangled curly brown hair. She bowed her head and shook it, disagreeing with Deimos. Cassian again tried to open the door. She gasped and pulled back, her head lifting to stare at him. The spells on her wrists glinted.

“Tell her she can come out,” Rhys said, noticing the spells’ gleam.

Deimos hesitated. The room grew darker. Cassian’s Siphons flared.

Deimos cleared his throat. “Flea. Get out of there.”

That was not her name. Cassian stopped himself from hammering the shield against the male’s head.

A moment passed before the girl unwrapped her fingers from around the door. Cassian slowly pulled it open. The cage forced her to crawl out on her hands and knees. When she passed the threshold, she didn’t stand on the table. Instead, she sat with her back against the side of the cage, knees still up to her chest, like she was trapped in that position. She pulled her hood back over her face.

At least she was out of the cage.

“She took food, didn’t she,” Cassian said, somehow knowing that was what happened. Maybe it was her gaunt face or the refusal in her eyes when he accused her of stealing. “You didn’t feed her.”

Deimos sniffed. “She didn’t do the work required—”

“Why would you hire a child?” Feyre’s voice whipped into his sentence, breaking it. The room heated. “There’s no way she would be as effective as an adult.”

The color began to leech out of Deimos’ face. “Her kind is well-known for their housekeeping skills. I thought she would be useful.”

“Let’s be honest here,” Rhys said, rising from the table. “What really happened? Don’t lie.”

Deimos exchanged a look with Keir, who didn’t allow any readable emotions on his face.

“You can tell me, or you can tell him,” Rhys said. He inclined his head toward Azriel, who held Truth-Teller’s obsidian hilt.

Deimos blanched. “Her older brother was a bond servant to my household. When he died, the bond was left unpaid. It transferred to his next of kin. The girl." Deimos' throat bobbed. "She mostly answers to my wife. She's useful for cleaning places adults can't reach, but she's not as handy as her brother. It's taking her longer to pay the bond, and she doesn't always work enough to get the bonus of food from our table.”

A bond servant. Her “wage” went to him, to pay off the bond. It was a loophole to keep lesser faeries as servants for centuries, until the debt was paid off.

“The brother signed the contract, it’s legally binding and legitimate,” Deimos said quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as the expressions around him darkened. “There’s nothing in the law against having a bonded servant.” No, because the practice had supposedly died out before Rhys even became High Lord. Deimos frowned. “He chose his path and, when he died, his choice made hers.”

On the table, the girl lifted her head, and Cassian saw a hint of an emotion on her face that wasn’t fear. A flash of outrage. “Henris didn’t know. He couldn’t read.”

“Silence,” Deimos spat. The spell bindings on her wrists brightened.

The girl drew in on herself, a pained breath escaping her. Cassian rounded toward Deimos, deciding he didn’t need his Siphons or his weapons, he would use his fists—

“Feyre darling, I’m assuming you can break those spells?” Rhys drawled, his tone deceptively casual even as threads of darkness wound around Deimos, muzzling him, tightening around his limbs.  There was no way for him to wield the binding spells verbally against her any longer.

“Yes,” she said, looking over at the girl, expression softening for a moment. She would need some time, but Cassian knew she could do it. His High Lady wouldn't stop until she did.

“Good, then we have no more use for this one,” Rhys said, gesturing toward Deimos. “Tell her she can go where she wishes.”

Deimos balked as the darkness tore from his mouth. “Why? What—”

“Your speed at complying with this order will reflect on your punishment,” Feyre added, flame and ice spinning up her arms.

“You’re free to roam as you wish, Flea,” Deimos rushed to say, panic beginning to set in.

Cassian scowled. “Her real name.”

Deimos stammered. “I don’t—”

“Fia,” the girl said, her head lifted, one hand on the tabletop to bolster herself. “You know it’s Fia’eyluan.” There it was again, a bit of boldness, whatever had driven her to try taking something from him in the first place.

“Fia.” Rhys said her name, his tone gentling in a way that had never been heard from him in the Hewn City before. “Would you like to come with us?”

She looked to Cassian. How old was she? Maybe eight, though her actual age might be older, depending on what type of faerie she was. Her gold eyes held a question.

“We don’t live here, Fia,” Cassian said, “We can take you far away. You’ll never have to see this place again.”

She nodded.

Rhys nodded back. “As I don’t have time to deal with this…Don't worry, Deimos, your wife will be keeping you company soon enough.”

At Rhys’ unheard request, Azriel winnowed to Deimos’ side, snatched the man by the shoulder, and disappeared. Azriel would take him to the cells beneath the city and get a little more information out of him before he and Rhys decided what to do with him. It also spared Nyx from seeing father mist someone out of anger. What did the boy think of all this?

Rhys waved a hand at Keir, and his power spread, dismissing the court by temporarily silencing the musicians in the throne room. “We will be discussing this at a later date.”

Keir simply bowed his head, his teeth gritted. He didn’t care what the Court of Nightmares did with lesser faeries, but Rhys—Rhys was half Illyrian, not necessarily “lesser” but they weren’t considered High Fae. Nor would they want to be considered that. Rhys would care very much about faeries besides the High Fae, and Keir knew it.

“We’re done here.”

Cassian extended a hand one of time to the girl. He almost didn’t dare to hope she would take it as Nesta tugged on their bond. Closer this time, and the feeling that she wasn’t alone accompanied the tug. She and Gwyn were somehow on their way.

Finally, the girl’s hand grasped his. As she stood, he noticed a ragged tufted tail uncurl from around her leg. She was maybe as tall as Cassian's knees, ears included. She stumbled forward as she tried to take a step, and he very carefully caught her.

As she gently squeezed her hands around the side of his, getting her bearings on legs nearly too weak from hunger to hold her, Cassian wished that he could switch jobs with Azriel for once. Just this one time.

Chapter Text

The group was winnowed from the council chambers back into the Moonstone Palace. Cassian had asked Fia if he could carry her after seeing how she could barely walk. She had nervously nodded, those expressive ears of hers flat to her head as he lifted her, tucking her into the crook of one arm. He felt like a giant holding her. Rhodes had been a young toddler when he had been her size.

The youngling needed food and a bath and new clothes and sleep. Food first. Then the rest. Cassian knew the hunger had to be prowling inside of her like a beast.

They appeared in the palace on the level below where they had left Lucien with the other children. It would give them a few moments to regroup after everything. Nyx, now visible again, instantly walked away, dropping onto the nearest couch and putting his head in his hands, tousled black hair falling in his face. Feyre hurried over to sit beside him, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

Cassian's heart hurt for his nephew. He shouldn’t have witnessed any of that, have seen them act that way, especially Rhys. Not yet.

Rhys started to go to Nyx as well but then paused, his gaze distant and then pained as something passed between him and Feyre through their bond.

Instead of joining his mate and his son, Rhys tucked his hands into his pockets. “That didn’t go as planned.”

No, it sure as hell hadn’t.

Fia winced, rapidly blinking. She lifted her hands to block out the light that poured in through the gauze-draped windows. The sunlight, had she ever seen it? It was still afternoon, the sun bright in the sky. Cassian turned his back to the windows, trying to shield her, raising his free arm to create more shadows. Azriel would’ve been better at this. Fia covered her face with her arms.

Rhys noticed her reaction and pulled in darkness, dimming the room with swathes of star-speckled night. A warm kind of dark, like they were all about to go stargazing.

“That’s better,” Rhys said, trying to put a bit of cheerfulness into his tone. “Pesky sunshine.”

Fia lowered her arms and then bowed her head toward Rhys, not making eye contact with him. “Th-thank you, High Lord, you n-needn't bother, I a-apologize.” The blink of defiance she had shown toward Deimos was gone now.

“Rhys is fine,” he said with a soft, encouraging smile. “And you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

Her trembling had gotten worse from having to speak to Rhys. Cassian forced himself to not hug her like he would have Seryn if she was afraid. He didn’t think Fia would want that right now.

“I forgot, it’s been so long,” Mor said, empathy and memories easy to read on her face. She reached into the space between worlds and pulled out a pair of dark glasses. “They’re far too big, but they should help.” Stepping closer, she lifted them up to Fia. “Here you go, so your eyes won’t ache.”

Fia also wouldn’t look at Mor. She took the glasses but simply held them cautiously in her hands as if Mor had given her diamonds to hold.

“You can wear them when the light is too bright,” Mor encouraged.

She glanced at Cassian again, and he nodded. Gingerly, she unfolded the arms of the glasses and held them up to her face. They were too big but at least they would protect her eyes.

Mor offered a bright smile that didn’t quite fit with how she was hugging herself around the middle. “We’ll get you a better pair soon and after a while your eyes will adjust. You won’t even need them.”

“Many thanks, great lady,” Fia said in her soft voice. She folded the glasses back up. “I won’t break them, honest.”

“Just Mor, and it’s okay if you did,” she replied, her shoulders tensing, pain in her brown eyes. “It’s truly all right.”

Rhys let the darkness mostly fade away but kept some of it around to shade against the sunlight, sending it throughout the Moonstone Palace. Cassian guessed he let Lucien know what was happening so Rhodes and Seryn wouldn’t be caught off guard. He looked over at Nyx, who hadn’t moved except to lean into Feyre.

“Cassian, Mor,” he said, “I’m sorry, but can you get our guest something to eat while I…?”

“I think we can manage,” Mor said, resting her hand on Cassian’s bicep, needing the contact herself. This couldn’t be bringing up any good memories for her. While she hadn’t been a servant by any means down there, she had been sold by those people, abused, thrown out like trash. She knew their inner workings and how the girl they had just saved would have been treated. How every action and every word would have been judged, the punishment severe if she was rebellious or even thought to be impertinent.

“Fia, I’m glad you’re here,” Rhys said, bowing at the waist toward her.

Cassian felt the girl go utterly still, not even breathing, a mouse staring at a panther that had suddenly decided to befriend it. She managed a stilted nod. Her shock and fear had to be radiating off of her, but Rhys didn’t react out loud.

I didn’t mean to make it worse, he said to Cassian as he walked toward Feyre and Nyx.

We’ll get it sorted out, Cassian replied. Rhys had meant well, but Fia seemed more afraid of Rhys and Mor than him. Seeing how they radiated power and wealth, that made sense, at least in regards to where she came from.

“Something to eat sounds amazing,” Mor said, clapping her hands together once. For a moment, her eyes darted to Rhys as he sat down near Nyx, keeping space between them, elbows on his knees. With a forced smile, she gestured to the hall. “Let’s find something delicious, shall we?”

Cassian followed her through the hall. They would need to get something healthy and easy to eat, they couldn’t stuff her with sweets or anything. She would have to eat good food in small quantities at first.

“Wait,” Cassian said as Mor began to glide toward the doorway that would lead them to Rhodes, Seryn, and Lucien. The girl needed food but she also needed to know what was happening, that she didn’t have to be afraid of them.

Taking a knee, he put Fia on the floor. She barely weighed anything. Teetering, she caught her balance, still holding the glasses like they were precious as she looked up at him.

“Yes, sir?” she said.

He put his hand to his chest. “I’m Cassian.” He pointed to Mor, who waved. “That’s Mor, and you met Rhys. Feyre and Nyx were also there, you’ll officially meet them later.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, bobbing a weary curtsy, her eyes on the ground.

“You…you don’t have to do that anymore,” he said, wanting to lift her chin. Instead he gave her an encouraging smile while he felt like breaking the bones of Deimos and anyone else who had conditioned her to act that way. “You’re not a servant, and your bond doesn’t exist. We’ll take those binding spells off as soon as we can.”

She bobbed another curtsy and then stopped midway through. Her eyes found his again. He had the distinct impression that she understood but didn’t believe him, not fully. “Yes, sir.” The same answer every time, most likely the one drilled into her head as the only appropriate one to give.

“You can call me Cassian,” he said, “And you go by Fia? But your full name is Fia’eyluan?” He almost couldn’t wrap his tongue around that name. “Did I say it right?”

Her shoulders lifted. “Yes…”

Cassian chuckled a bit, hiding how much he wanted her to correct him, to feel brave enough to do so. “I didn’t. I’ll work on it.”

“You can call me Fia. Or whatever you think is best, sir,” she said, but now there was the smallest slip of impertinence in her tone. Almost impossible to notice but Cassian picked up on it. Good, much better.

“Cassian. And if you want to be called Fia, I’ll call you Fia,” he said with a firm nod. “Would you like something to eat?” Say yes, don’t hesitate.

She twisted her hands together, long fingers clasping together. “I won’t eat too much.”

Cauldron scald, he wanted to say she could eat as much as she wanted, but she would have to go slow until she wasn’t half-starved. “What would you like?”

Her golden eyes widened as she was completely caught by surprise. “Whatever was left over from your midday meal?” Like all she was worth was scraps from the table. Cassian knew what that felt like, he had lived it as a child thrown into the mud of an Illyrian war camp.

Mor pressed her lips together in a tight line and closed her eyes for a moment before plastering that shining expression of hers back on. “I’ll find something.” With a swish of her curve-hugging dress, she headed off, most likely to take a moment to collect her thoughts before using the magic of the Moonstone Palace to get fresh food.

With her permission again, Cassian picked up Fia. She had been looking wilty, as if the act of standing was too much for her. Still she perched rigidly in his hold, not leaning against him, her hood hiding her face as he carried her into the living area where Rhodes, Seryn, and Lucien were waiting.

“Da!” Rhodes exclaimed, scrambling to his feet from where he had been sitting on the very edge of the lounge, staring at the door. Seryn was beside him, her feet not quite reaching the floor. Her teal gaze was curious as she noticed Fia. Lucien stood before them, like he had been in the middle of talking to them. Most likely explaining any information Rhys had relayed to him, like where everyone else had gone and who their visitor was. They wouldn’t have been given all the details of what had happened as that would be left to Cassian and Azriel to decide how much to tell their respective children.

Now Fia tucked the glasses into her sack cloth dress and leaned forward, bracing against Cassian’s arm. Rhodes skidded to a halt in front of Cassian, wings flaring slightly. “Lucien said you brought someone back.” He was watching the faerie girl who actively watched him in return, livelier than she had been since the moment Cassian had found her. Maybe there hadn’t been any other young children in that cold, awful household.

Rhodes offered her a tentative smile. Rhys must have given Lucien some details about her state to pass along to the children. While Rhodes was shy and truthfully standoffish around strangers by nature, he had a soft spot for people who needed help or protection. “Hello, I’m Rhodes.”

“Hello, young sir,” she said, a note of actual interest in that light voice.

Rhodes blinked and shook his head. “Ah, no, that’s okay, I’ve never been a sir. Can you call me Rhodes?”

“Yes, if that’s what you want,” she said. She drew back her hood, and her ears lifted for the first time, turning toward Rhodes. “My name is Fia.”

Cassian tried not to start with surprise that she had offered her name.

“Nice to meet you,” Rhodes said, kind if a little uncertain of himself. He took in her ragged appearance, the thin hands, the dirty face, and Cassian could see the surge of anger in him at whoever had treated her that way. However, he masked it much better than Cassian would have thought, only the ember of silver in his eyes betraying how he felt.

Looking over his shoulder, Rhodes gestured toward Seryn, who came over. “This is Seryn, but we call her Ser sometimes. You don’t have to call her miss or anything. We’re Nyx’s cousins, and that’s my da,” Rhodes explained, waving a hand at Cassian. “Uncle Az is her father. He was the one with blue stones.”

The glimmering bits of starlight that usually followed Seryn were currently tucked into the white streak in her black hair. Rhys might have passed along Fia’s sensitivity to light. Her braid had come partially undone from dancing, and she radiated warm friendliness, a trait of her mother’s that she shared. “Hi, Fia.” There was also a searching glint in her eyes that took in everything, noticing Fia’s thinness and how she reacted to them. She got that from both parents.

Fia perked up, one ear flicking forward as the other shifted back the way they had come, presumably listening out for the approach of the High Lord and Lady. “Your hair glows pretty.” She instantly ducked back, as if surprised at herself for speaking up.

“Thank you.” Seryn gestured to the last person in the room. “That’s Lucien, he’s nice.” She grinned. “Mostly.”

“I think I’m exceptionally nice when I want to be,” Lucien said, keeping his voice even, not adding in a vulpine bite.

When Lucien spoke, Fia pulled into herself again, ears squishing flat to her head. She drew her hood back up.

Rhodes and Seryn exchanged glances and then both of them looked up at Cassian worriedly. His love for the pair surged. They didn’t care about the smell or the dirt or that his focus was more on the girl than them, they were just concerned about her.

“I heard you two were busy dancing, up for a snack?” he said, hoping to introduce Fia to this normalcy and get her to eat along with them.

“Definitely,” Rhodes said.

Cassian turned toward his niece. “Ser, Az will back soon, in case you were wondering. He’s…working.”

She nodded, her expression cloudy for a moment. “Right, Lucien told me.” Cassian knew that openness was a huge cornerstone in Gwyn and Azriel’s family; since their work focused on secrets and information, with Az spying and Gwyn being in charge of the ever-growing library and education system in the Night Court lands, they didn’t keep much from each other or Seryn. She didn’t know exactly what Azriel did in the cells of the Hewn City, no gory details, but she had a general idea. “Is Nyx coming back?”

“I think so,” Cassian said. "He's talking with Feyre and Rhys." As he glanced at the breakfast table, he hesitated. It seemed odd to put Fia on top of the table again, but the chairs weren’t the right height or size.

“Seryn, let’s move our game,” Lucien said smoothly, already walking to the low table, where it would be easy to sit Fia on a few pillows so she could reach the top. He must have seen Cassian’s expression and guessed what was going on in his head.

Really, the fox was shaping up to be a good future brother-in-law, Cassian had to admit as he headed toward the low table behind Seryn and Rhodes.

Chapter Text

“What’s a brùnaidh?”

Rhys lifted his head from where he had been staring at the floor, waiting for Nyx to say something, anything. He and Feyre had been sitting with their son for the past fifteen minutes, and Nyx had been completely silent. If it had been any other time, Rhys would have joked that it was a miracle, but right now?

He despised that silence.

It wasn’t the question he had been expecting, but it was one he was happier to answer. It was easier to talk about than anything else that had to be sinking its claws into Nyx’s thoughts. The quick trip to the Hewn City’s least awful part had gone so terribly wrong so quickly, though Rhys was glad Cassian had found the girl. If he hadn’t, and she had been that skinny now…

“Brùnaidh are a rare type of faerie that hail from the Autumn Court originally,” Rhys said, “There used to be more of them.”

“And the girl is one?” Nyx asked, still looking away. Not at either Rhys or Feyre. He hadn’t looked at them since they had gotten back, though he was at least leaning against Feyre, willing to accept comfort from her. When Rhys had sat down, he had inched farther away, the extra distance feeling like miles.

“Yes,” Rhys said. Although he had never seen a brùnaidh before, he had been taught about them as a boy. The small stature, the large expressive ears, the tail, the almost feline nose. Rhys sighed. “From what I learned, they’re actually very fond of humans. Many of them once lived almost symbiotically with humans, raising families in the same households and working in the same businesses. But that’s all I know. We’ll have to do some research.” He had been very young when he had been told about the brùnaidh, back when his tutors were trying to give him an overview of all the different people groups who called Prythian home.

Nyx rubbed the heel of his palm roughly across his forehead. “We have to make sure there aren’t any other children being kept as servants down there.” He finally looked up. There were tears in his blue-grey eyes, righteously angry and deeply sad. “Why didn’t we know about her?”

Rhys’ chest tightened. He would’ve reached out to hug Nyx, but he was half-sure he would be shoved away and he couldn’t handle that.

“We watch and govern the Hewn City, but they also have ways of keeping secrets.” Azriel and his spies were excellent, but they couldn’t see everything behind each closed door, and the fae down there now had access to outside resources through their trips to Velaris and elsewhere in the wide world. They knew more cloaking spells, devices, and curses from other countries, and it was impossible to keep up with them all. Azriel wouldn’t see it that way. Rhys knew this was going to eat at the shadowsinger. “There will be a search of the city to make sure this is a single terrible incident.”

“Deimos’ punishment will be enough to deter anyone else from trying it again,” Feyre said, a razor edge to her voice. Certainly, since the punishment would eventually be death.

“But what about the rest of it?” Nyx said, sitting up straight, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

“What do you mean, exactly?” Rhys said calmly, but his heart was thundering. He hadn’t wanted Nyx to see him like that, how he had to be down there, the callous High Lord of Nightmares. The only bit of kindness he had shown had been to Fia, and then, the people down there might interpret it as his household acquiring a new servant.

“It’s…I never want Seryn or Rhodes to go down there,” Nyx said, practically spitting out the words. There was a frightened shadow in his expression at the thought of his younger cousins going through what he had just been experienced. “It’s awful. I only saw that one part, but how can you stand to let those people live that way? Act that way?” He balled his hands into fists. “They put her in a damn cage!”

Nyx got up, pushing away from the couch, from them, his wings spreading wide. Feyre started to stand too, but Rhys reached for her hand.

“I heard their thoughts.” Nyx shoved a hand through his hair, wincing at the memory. “I can’t stop hearing them, I don’t—I hate it.”

I thought you were shielding him from that, too, Feyre said, her eyes widening.

I was, Rhys said, staying very still. Was Nyx strong enough now to hear through a shield if he wanted to? A few months ago, he had managed to shield his cousins and himself from Feyre and Rhys by creating a kind of mental blur. This could be a new development in his gifts.  

Nyx shook his head and turned back to them, his wings folding in. “There’s got to be a better way than letting generation after generation grow up in that.” His eyes flicked to both of them, the tears starting to escape. “A better way than you acting like that, allowing them to think you’re just as bad.”

It was a gut punch but one he had been expecting since he had brought Nyx to the council chambers and told him to stay silent and that he was sorry he had to witness what was about to happen. Maybe he should have winnowed him back to the Moonstone Palace and then gone to the council chambers, but he had been so enraged about the girl, he hadn’t been thinking straight.

“People are allowed to leave,” Feyre said but Nyx shook his head again.

“Only certain people,” he countered, “Only when you say they can and not always permanently.”

“Any servant who wants to leave the mountain can do so at any time,” Rhys said evenly, “The High Fae of the Hewn City are a different matter.”

“What about Mor?” Nyx asked, brushing the back of his hand under his eyes, anger replacing the sadness. “What about other people like her, who just want to get out so they can dream or actually be good without consequences? Or the ones that don’t even realize that’s a choice?”

“We do our best to find them—” Feyre started.

Nyx rolled his eyes. “Do you?”

“Watch it,” Rhys said, a flash of anger rolling through him at Nyx’s tone aimed at Feyre. He knew Nyx had been frightened and was dealing with everything that had occurred but he didn't need to take it out on Feyre.

“Watch what, you two act like villains down there when that’s nothing like how you are up here?” Nyx demanded, “They’re terrified of you!”

He really had heard the thoughts of the people. Rhys drew his shoulders back, inwardly reeling from the glare his son was aiming at him. “The Hewn City is a trickier matter than you can understand from a single visit.”

“I barely recognized you down there in that room, Da,” Nyx said, “Why do you do that?”

“We told you why before we went down there,” Rhys said, crushing the guilt that was curling around his ribcage. It hadn't been the plan for Nyx to actually see that behavior or to hear the thoughts of the citizens.

“The two courts have always been ruled differently, and we’ve been trying to change the Hewn City over the years but they resist,” Feyre said, keeping calm, though down their bond Rhys could feel the twinge of despair in her heart. The pain at seeing Nyx hurting. “It takes time. They have expectations.”

“If we showed weakness, there could be full on rebellion,” Rhys said, “They’re not a people to be trifled with, and we must display strength.”

“Oh, strength, sure,” Nyx said with a humorless laugh. “Because cruelty is strength.”

“To them, yes, unfortunately,” Feyre said.

“Nyx, you do not understand,” Rhys said, now getting irritated because it wasn’t like he hadn’t considered all this before. He had stood in Nyx’s place once and thought he would treat the Hewn City so differently than his father, before realizing the Hewn City had certain expectations and if they weren’t met, only devastation would follow.

“I don’t! How do I know you’re not just acting up here, Da, and how you really are is how you are down there?” snapped Nyx. The instant the words left his mouth, his face crumpled. “I didn’t—” He sucked a breath in through his teeth, flung up his wings, and ran out of the room, heading for the closest stairwell.

Rhys looked up at the ceiling, trying to block out everything he was feeling. He made a mistake, Nyx was too young and shouldn’t have gone down there, but he had a point, maybe this version of him was the fake one—

“No, this is the real you, Rhys. He was going to say he didn’t mean it.” Feyre’s hands slid against his skin as she cupped his face. Her thumb brushed away a tear he hadn’t realized he had shed. When he looked up at her, he realized she was crying too. Instantly he took her arms and pulled her into his lap, his arms looping around his middle.

“I know he didn’t,” Rhys said as she curled into his shoulder.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, Feyre said, sending soothing, gentle calm along their bond. He tried to echo it, to send the same back, but he kept imagining Nyx sliding closer to her to get away from him.

What if he had irreparably changed how Nyx saw him just by allowing him into the city? In a secret hidden part of his mind, Rhysand wondered if he deserved that.

Chapter Text

Rhodes slid yet another ceramic bowl over in front of Fia. “These carrot slices are really good. Do you want some?”

Cassian’s worry deepened as Fia shook her head, her hands still in her lap the way they had been since soon after Mor and the food had appeared. Fia had offered her the glasses back, but Mor had gently declined and suggested she try the roasted almonds. Mor had retreated to one of the chaise lounges in a nearby alcove. Cassian had seen her pull reports from the air before she disappeared behind a moonstone pillar and wispy curtains.

When Mor left, Fia folded her hands, put them in her lap, and there they stayed.

What was wrong? What was the key here? Fia had made it sound like she would eat if they gave her food, and he could tell she wanted to grab everything on the table by the way she was leaning toward it. Her fingers twitched every time Rhodes or Seryn moved something closer to her, but she wouldn’t touch anything. Did they really have to give her leftovers to get her to eat? He wasn’t sure if he could bear feeding her scraps, not when they had so much food available.

He and Lucien had maneuvered everyone so that Rhodes and Seryn were sitting on either side of Fia while the adults were around the rest of the table. It was obvious she was more comfortable with the two children but apparently not comfortable enough to eat. Or there was something else holding her back.

Rhodes left the carrots in front of Fia. “If you change your mind, I think everyone else is done with them. You can have them.” Another attempt, in hopes that by making it clear no one else was going to eat them, she might. Rhodes was trying so hard. Fia gave a small nod but didn’t touch the carrots.

Seryn’s gaze flitted over the bowls, and Cassian could tell she was trying to figure out how to solve the problem as well. Her wings drew in closer. She pointed at the grapes in front of Lucien. “Could you pass those or were you purposefully hoarding them all for yourself?”

Her smile was quick, and Lucien snorted, amusement in his russet eye. “Am I supposed to read your mind that you want grapes and hand them over without a polite request? Do I look like Rhys?” Yes, he taught the children politics but in a much less official, more familial capacity, he was also their instructor in the art of sass. Though really, many of the Inner Circle members passed that trait along to the young ones.

Seryn’s grin sharpened.

Lucien lifted a finger. “Be careful how you answer that…”

While Seryn was clearly having a good time and Lucien was only playing along, Cassian noticed that Fia had stiffened. She looked at Seryn with wide-eyed concern that she didn’t bother to hide. Fia put her hand on Seryn’s sleeve and flicked her golden eyes at Lucien. It looked like she anticipated that he would retaliate against Seryn either verbally or physically. Her tail lashed once before going still.

The punishment for backtalk from her must have been swift and severe.

Cassian wasn’t the only one who noticed the change in her behavior. Lucien’s mechanical eye whirred as he sat back. The grapes moved toward Seryn, magic giving them the push so Lucien didn’t have to move closer and further spook Fia. Cassian appreciated the other male’s intuition. Seryn caught the bowl and then held it out to Fia.

The small faerie girl grasped the skirt of her dirty dress tighter. Was he supposed to order her to eat?

“Lucien isn’t a bad person,” Seryn whispered, barely loud enough for Cassian to hear, “It’s…it’s like a word game we play. He’d never hurt me, no matter what I say.”

“She could curse me from here to the human lands and I wouldn’t lift a hand to her,” Lucien said, nodding his head to Seryn. Fia was still watching him warily even though she had released Seryn’s sleeve. The fox offered her a smile, and the girl looked back at her lap.

Maybe…Cassian got up from the table, moving slowly and deliberately, picking up a small bowl of roasted sugar almonds. “Lucien, come on. I need to stretch my legs and we need to talk.”

Lucien quirked an eyebrow but also stood, moving similarly to the way Cassian had. “Only if you share those almonds.”

As they walked away from the table, Cassian let his wings spread, blocking more of himself and Lucien. He didn’t want to go too far. He held the bowl out to Lucien.

“She’s afraid of High Fae,” Lucien said, dipping a hand into the bowl, “I don’t even think she knows what you or the children are, but she knows you’re different from me and Mor.”

“Must be the lack of pointy ears,” Cassian said, making a half-hearted attempt to joke. It fell flat as he glanced over his shoulder and past a wing. Fia wasn’t eating yet but she was watching them walk away. In any case, both Rhodes and Seryn had slightly pointed ears. But the Illyrian wings both of them had certainly set them apart from full High Fae.

Lucien popped an almond into his mouth, but his gaze was hard, distant. “She’s seen some shit. Getting her through it is going to be difficult for whoever takes her in.”

Cassian hadn’t thought about who would take her after this. Of course there had to be a suitable family for her out there, who knew about children who had been in traumatic situations. But wouldn’t that be later? They couldn’t simply hand her over to anyone. They would have to figure out the best family for her, one that would keep her safe and help her heal from everything, who would be patient and understanding and not push her too fast. Obviously, there would have to be a vetting process before Fia was placed with any family.

“It’s going to take a lot of time and resources, Cassian.”

“What is?”

“When you and Nesta take her in,” Lucien said, reaching for another almond. He leaned back against a wall, positioning himself so he was out of sight from the table while Cassian could peek over at it, if he wanted. “She’ll need attention. Luckily you’ll have a lot of help and I think you're both suited for it.”

Cassian frowned at him and started to argue that he hadn’t been thinking about that option, but new movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Fia was eating. Not much and very slowly, but she was nibbling on one of those carrots Rhodes had offered her. Seryn and Rhodes were talking and doing their best to act like it was a normal meal, though Rhodes kept slyly pushing more bowls within arm’s reach of Fia.

Good, better. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lucien nodded with a practiced casual air. “If you don’t feel up to it, Elain and I could possibly—”

Cassian stiffened. “Let’s let her eat first before we start deciding her future for her,” he grumbled. Hadn’t she been through enough of that? But he also knew Lucien was purposefully goading him…

With part of his attention on the younglings, he quietly told Lucien about what had happened down in the Hewn City, giving him more details than Rhys had had time for. Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx hadn’t come back yet from their talk, but Cassian knew it might take a while. Nyx had been distraught and scared, and the way he looked at Rhys… Cassian suspected he might have to have a talk with his nephew later, too, and maybe he’d get Az to join.

As Lucien lapsed into silent brooding over the situation, Cassian reached out through his bond with Nesta, wrapping mental fingers around their connection and giving it a pull. Much closer now. Exactly how was she moving so quickly?

Along with the licks of lingering flame, he felt her conflicting happiness at whatever she was doing to get here. He wished he had Rhysand’s ability to mindspeak during times like this. All he got back from Nesta was her determination to get there in the next half hour and glimpses of blue sky, clouds, and Gwyn’s coppery-brown hair. Now he was more confused.

He turned as Feyre came into the room, dressed in a comfortable cream-colored sweater and a pair of leggings, the trappings of her High Lady status left behind. Her grey-blue eyes were red-rimmed. Nyx and Rhys weren’t behind her.

The talk didn’t go well, she said to Cassian.

I’m sorry.

It’s…we’ll figure it out. Feyre’s smile was barely there as she approached the low table. Fia paused and took her hand out of a bowl, dropping the berry she had picked up.

High Fae make her nervous, he said truthfully, It’s not just you and Rhys being High Lord and Lady.

I mean, that honestly makes sense, Feyre responded as she sat down cross-legged beside Seryn, her arm brushing against her niece’s. Seryn leaned into her for a moment, nuzzling her shoulder, softly affectionate.

Cassian wasn’t sure, maybe it was that familial gesture or the change of clothes or something else, but Fia’s guarded posture began to loosen as she watched Feyre. She didn’t eat, but there was almost a touch of curiosity in her eyes as she looked at the High Lady.

“Where’s Nyx?” Rhodes asked, pushing a bowl of sun-dried fruit over to her.

“He’s in his room,” Feyre said, “I think he wants to be alone right now.”

Seryn glanced over her shoulder at the door, as if contemplating going to find him anyways. Feyre nudged her again, and Seryn wrinkled her nose before smoothing her expression. She picked up a piece of fruit from the bowl Rhodes had nudged over.

“Fia, can I look at those spells of yours?” Feyre asked, her tone kind.

“Yes, High Lady.” Fia immediately put her arms on the table, letting her sleeves slide up the expose her wrists. Cassian moved closer, but Lucien stayed behind, mindful of the girl’s anxiousness.

A darkness shadowed Feyre’ face at how fast Fia was to obey and also at those binding spells. They were dull and inactive. Feyre leaned forward. “Can I touch them?”

“Yes, High Lady,” Fia said.

Seryn scooted out of the way and got up so Feyre could move closer. Fia became utterly still, and Cassian crossed the rest of the room, wishing he knew exactly the best way to reassure her.

Gently, Feyre took the girl’s hands in hers, carefully turning them over to get a full view of the pairs of binding spells. That darkness on her face deepened. Feyre tried to offer Fia a little smile. “I’m going to work on breaking these, all right?”

“Not that one,” Fia said, “Not the red ones.”

Feyre and Cassian exchanged a glance, neither of them understanding.

“Why not?” Rhodes asked bluntly. “Don’t those spells make you have to do stuff?”

Fia’s fingers started to curl. “Not the red ones,” she repeated, “That’s to make sure I stay good. Don’t turn bad.”

Cassian shook his head. “You don’t need a binding spell for that.” Trap spell, obedience spell, whatever you wanted to call it.

“Please don’t break it,” Fia said, her eyes widening as she looked up at Feyre, pleading, “My mother made it.”

Now Cassian was at a complete loss. Why would one of her parents put a spell like that on her? He wasn’t even sure how she would “turn bad” without the spell.

“It’s different than the other one,” Feyre murmured as her powers glowed over the spell. “It’s like a lock.”

“It should stay locked,” Fia said.

Feyre finally half-smiled. “Well, they won’t stop you from leaving. So I’ll break the other ones.”

Fia nodded, relaxing now that the red spells weren’t going to be tampered with. Cassian made a note to figure out what that was about. Or tell whoever took her in that they had to figure that out. Right…

Nesta tightened her arms around Gwyn’s waist as the Moonstone Palace’s main balcony came rushing up at them. Calliope, the pegasus they were riding, tilted her wings and started making wide loops. The loops slowed the descent and made Nesta somewhat nauseous at the same time.

“Good girl,” Gwyn said, brushing her hand along Callie’s pale golden neck. The mare was around twelve years old, the offspring of Meallan and Diyarini. Her coat was pale glimmering gold but her mane and tail were deep shiny black. She was striking.

They had been dealing with training issues on Eventide, the current semi-permanent camp of the Valkyries, when Cassian had yanked on the mate bond between him and Nesta. Gwyn had gotten a similar treatment seconds later from Azriel. Since neither of them could winnow, it had been lucky that a few of Day Court’s younger pegasus had been on the island.

Actually, it seemed like there was always a pegasus or two, if not more, around on the island now, which delighted many of the Valkyries. The pegasus were supposed to be Helion’s creatures, but the younger ones certainly didn’t act like it. Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn had talked about it and spoken with Helion. The High Lord of Day had made it clear that while he would have preferred for the pegasus to stay in Day, he couldn’t keep them there short of trapping them in stables. With his love for the creatures, he couldn’t bring himself to do that, so he supposed he would have to let them visit Eventide when they wished.

Pegasus could fly extremely fast, and they had a kind of magic that allowed a rider to not be torn off by the wind, which Nesta appreciated since holding onto the pegasus was nothing like being carried by Cassian. She always felt safe in Cassian’s arms. On the pegasus’ back, she felt an undeniable joy but also an underlying terror that she was going to slip right off. It was exhilarating and terrifying. 

Gwyn, however, didn’t seem to have the same fear. She was more of a natural, though Emerie was the most comfortable and the most practiced at riding a pegasus. She spent more time on the island with the Valkyrie camp and the pegasus than either Gwyn or Nesta did.

As Calliope’s hooves clattered on the shimmering balcony, Nesta could feel Cassian’s realization that it was her and Gwyn out there.

With a soft groan, she slid off the back of the pegasus. Riding had used muscles that she didn’t work as hard as the others. She was going to be so sore that night, but there was something viciously satisfying about being about to travel long distance without having to rely on someone to winnow her.

“I should have guessed,” Cassian said as he stepped onto the balcony.

“I thought I made it clear,” Nesta said, hands on her lower back as she stretched.

Cassian nodded toward Gwyn even though his eyes stayed on Nesta. “You look like something out an ancient painting, Gwyn.”

“Hi, Cass,” Gwyn said, patting Calliope’s neck. “Because I love you like a brother, I’m going to interpret that you meant that in a good way and not that I look ancient.”

Cass managed a low laugh. “You could never."

Rhodes ran past Cassian, wings catching the sunlight. He stared at Nesta then Gwyn as she got down at well. “Did you ride Callie the whole way here?”

“No, we flew in some other way,” Gwyn teased before smiling at Rhodes. “Want to come pet her?”

“She doesn’t like me like she likes you,” he said even as he walked their way. He paused to hug Nesta, who brushed her hand through his thick dark brown hair and kissed his forehead before he pulled away. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would get hugs like that before he moved into the adolescent phase, where he might become moodier, like Nyx. She loved her nephew to the ends of the Earth, but when a certain mood caught him, he could be overly dramatic and purposefully frustrating.

Wonder who he got that from.

As Nesta crossed the balcony to get to Cassian, she looked past him, wondering where Seryn was. Cassian noticed where her attention had gone. “She’s with the girl,” he said, hazel eyes dark.

There was an empathetic ache lingering on his face, and when she was within arm’s length, he reached for her. He drew her to his chest and held her. That rage from earlier simmered under his surface but it paled in comparison to how he wanted to help this girl. Needed to help her.

Nesta could see her through their bond, the heart-shaped face that alternated between afraid and almost lifeless and then hints of latent inquisitiveness and spirit. Nesta stroked his back and hugged him, knowing that’s what he needeed.

“Can I meet her?” Nesta asked against his chest.

Cassian squeezed her one last time. “Her name’s Fia. She might be a little scared of you, don’t take it personally. The people who hurt her were High Fae.”

Nesta nodded. There was something about that frightened face he showed her that pulled on her, made her want to chase that haunted look away.

She followed him inside, past where Mor was going over reports in a corner and to a low table to the side of the room. Everyone often played board games or card games there, using the soft pillows as seating. Feyre was sitting at the table, and she nodded to Nesta as she approached at Cassian’s side. Seryn was gathering bowls together, but she set them back down to rush over to Nesta.

Nesta caught her niece in a quick hug. “Your mother has Calliope outside,” she said quietly, knowing that Seryn was almost as enthusiastic about pegasus as Gwyn. Her eyes lit up but she hesitated, looking over her shoulder.

Beside Feyre, almost too small to comfortably reach the table, was the girl. Fia.

“It’s all right, Ser,” Cassian said. He nodded toward the balcony. “We’re staying.”

“I’ll be back, Fia,” Seryn said, her smile faltering as she looked at the smaller girl. With her wings drooping, she left, moving toward the balcony. Nesta noticed Lucien emerge from somewhere to follow with her, the two of them starting to whisper.

Fia was rubbing her thin wrists, and Nesta realized that above crimson spells that encircled her tawny wrists, the skin was pink and newly healed. She glanced at Nesta. Her large eyes, even when she was startled by a new person, were such a beautiful golden color. Like melted ingots, darker shades throughout the lighter ones.

Nesta’s heart twisted in her chest as she took in the little girl, the dark circles under her eyes, the way she held herself like she was sore from being in that cage. Just a child, so young. And she had been turned into a servant, forced and taught to act a certain way, to accept fate, to bow her head and obey.

The girl stared as Nesta sat beside Feyre, and her eyes darted from Nesta to Feyre and back again. “You’re the same.”

“This is my sister, Nesta Archeron,” Feyre said with a bit of a smile, “But I don’t think anyone’s called us the same before.”

Certainly not.

“That’s not…” Fia flinched and touched her wrist again before looking up at the two of them. It didn’t seem like she was going to explain why she felt like that. Instead, she inclined her head toward Nesta. “Hello, Lady.”

“Hello, Fia,” Nesta said, “Thank you, but there’s no need for a title. You can call me Nesta.”

She nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Her ears went flat against her head and she seemed to steel herself before she laid her wrists down on the table, the tender soft undersides face up. Vulnerable. Her gaze was distant and resigned as she looked up at Feyre. “M-may I pick the color this time? If it’s not a bother?”

Feyre balked, confused. “The color of what?” Nesta shook her head when her sister looked at her. She was clueless.

“The spell,” Fia said, ducking her head, “The binding spell. I like green, but I know I shouldn’t ask—”

“No,” Cassian said with Nesta saying the same word, both of them speaking at the same time.

“No more spells like that,” Cassian said. Nesta could feel the fire rising in him, the need to fix this, to save her, free her.

As confusion stole over the girl’s face, Nesta felt like ice was working its way through her veins as Fia held out her wrists one more time, her eyes skipping to each of them, from Cassian to Feyre to Nesta.

“I don’t mean to question, but are you sure? I’ll work without them, but…”

The only thing Nesta was sure of was that this girl with a pale flicker of hope in her eyes was breaking her heart. A torrent of protectiveness rose up within her, crashing through her sore body as she gently touched Fia's hand. The girl went still but didn't pull away.

"We're sure," Nesta said simply, "Never again."

Chapter Text

Nesta laid a set of plush dark green towels down beside the massive bathing tub in her and Cassian’s quarters and knelt to touch the surface of the water. It was hot but not scalding, leaving it a good, soothing temperature. Lavender and eucalyptus scents drifted around, adding to the calming effect. Or she hoped it was calming.

At her side, Fia had her head bowed, hands clasped in front of her, tail looped around one leg like she was used to keeping it hidden. The only indication that she might be interested in bathing were her ears, which were up, both tilted toward Nesta.

“Is this okay?” Nesta asked, making ripples in the water as she dipped a hand in.

“I’m sure it’s right lovely,” Fia said, ears turning down. “I…I’m sorry for the smell.”

Nesta’s cheeks warmed, heat spreading through her chest at the girl’s embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to make her feel bad or guilty.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she said quickly, turning toward the girl. “Absolutely nothing. We thought you’d be more comfortable if you bathe, the water will help anything that hurts.” Like her wrists. Or her back from being in that cage. She wanted to ask how long the girl had been cooped up in there, but she didn’t want to remind her. Azriel would find out.

Inside her, rage at the people who had hurt this girl whipped about like a hurricane. Cruelty, it was sheer cruelty to practically enslave a child and even worse to then punish her so wickedly for wanting something to eat. Feyre had silently told her that part while she was working on readying the bath.

On the other end of her mating bond, Cassian’s banked wrath answered hers. There was nothing calm about how he felt, and she couldn’t soothe him when she was also ready to attack the people who did this. Instead, she sent a surge of agreement down the bond.

Those big golden eyes lifted to her grey-blue ones. Fia edged toward the side of the bathing tub, careful on the marble, and looked down into the water. She was still shorter than Nesta even when Nesta was kneeling. “I…it looks very nice, ma’am.”

“Is something wrong?” Nesta asked, sensing her hesitancy but also that she did want to get clean.

Fia held her ears even harder against her hair and twined her fingers together tightly.  “I can’t swim.”

Oh. Oh. Nesta cursed herself for not even asking her, for not thinking about how deep the bathing pool was and how the water would be over her head. Even if she sat on one of the shelves carved into the sides, the water would loom before her.

“If I find something smaller, would you still want to bathe?” she asked, not wanting to make her feel awkward.

Fia nodded. “But you needn’t put yourself out for me, ma’am.”

“You can call me Nesta,” she said gently, “And trust me, it’s not a bother.”

Opening a window on her iron-willed mental shield, she thought in the direction of her sister. Feyre.

Is everything all right?

After that awful conversation about binding spells, Feyre had excused herself, unable to banish the anguish for Fia from her face. She also understood that Fia might not be as relaxed around her since she was the High Lady. Nesta had taken control of the situation, suggesting that Cassian go check on the children while she took Fia to get clean and comfortable.

Not exactly. Do we still have one of the tubs from when the children were small? Nesta asked, sizing up the girl in front of her.

A feeling of understanding threaded between them. Rhys never gets rid of anything, Feyre replied, Give me one moment, I’ll ask where he put them.

Beside Nesta, Fia sat down and gingerly put her bare feet in the pool. Her feet were long with tiny claws at the tip of each toe. “I can make do, ma’am,” she said, a brush of worry in her voice. “It’s no trouble.”

A silver tub etched with whorls and stars and moon phases appeared at the side of the bath, wisps of steam rising from water that had filled it instantly. More towels and a few dresses that used to belong to Seryn popped up next to the ones Nesta had brought, providing more options. A dainty wooden brush with soft bristles dropped onto the towels. Nesta recognized it as one of Gwyn’s. It seemed that she and Seryn might be helping with suggestions. It was joined by more shampoos and bathing mixtures and hair ties and ribbons.

Tell Rhys to stop sending things, it’s too much for her, Nesta said, watching as Fia quit splashing, her eyes widening as a pair of socks and soft slippers landed on the dresses.

The last thing to land very lightly on the dresses was a worn and beloved stuffed rabbit, one that Nesta recognized with a pang in her heart. It was Seryn’s favorite toy. Nesta could remember Cassian setting it in her cradle when she was less than an hour old, a gift from both of them.

The rabbit is on loan, Feyre said, Seryn made Rhys send it in case Fia wanted something to hold after her bath. I’m sorry he sent so much.

He…meant well, Nesta said. They all did, they wanted to help. Fia lifted her feet from the pool and then stayed where she was, apparently not wanting to leave wet footprints for Nesta to notice. I doubt she’s seen much care in her life. We’ll have to be cautious not to overwhelm her.

That’s going to be difficult, Feyre said.

Nesta agreed. She also wanted to pour out a wealth of compassion on Fia, but she could tell that the child didn’t know what to do with it and too much made her uneasy, which was a worry in and of itself. It made Nesta wonder if someone had been nice to her before, only to turn around and follow that action with punishment or malice. It seemed likely in the Hewn City.

“This is better?” she asked, gesturing to the tub.

“It’s all so nice,” Fia said, “Maybe I might use something less? I don’t want to get it dirty. And I shouldn’t wear those, they’re so very fine.” She nodded her head to the pile of dresses.

Something in Nesta crumpled, but she offered a small smile. “Seryn wants to share them,” she said, picking up one of the dresses, a long-sleeved linen one with embroidered ivy at the bottom. “And she sent her rabbit, too, for you to borrow.”

Fia looked at the toy and immediately put her hands behind her back. “Oh, I can’t.”

Nesta set the dress back with the others and walked over to Fia. Sitting down, she looked at the calm pool of water and the shaded view beyond. Rhys was still keeping the palace draped in a veil of night for Fia’s sake. She looked at the uncertain, frightened girl beside her. “Fia…” How to put everything so the girl believed her, so she didn’t immediately dismiss everything she said? Nesta knew that trust took time to build, but they had to start somewhere.

“You’re going to be treated like any other child here, with care and kindness.” With love, a familiar wise and serene and ancient female voice said in her mind, and Nesta drew in a breath. Yes, her heart was already reaching toward this child, but was her family the right fit? Some primal part of her wanted to be. She felt like this girl was somehow hers, that she belonged with her and Cassian and Rhodes, but was that what was best for Fia?

“All right but I can still clean and everything, to make up for the food and the bath,” Fia said, gripping the filthy skirt of her dress. “I’ll be good and not a bother and I’ll work fast. I can stitch things well too. My fingers are nimble with a needle, my brother always said so.”

“You aren’t a servant anymore,” Nesta said, “You don’t have to do anything for us in exchange.” Very carefully, she brushed a lock of Fia’s grimy hair back from her face and lifted her chin so she would look her in the eyes. There was a wish there, like she wanted to believe what Nesta was saying but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. “If anyone ever dares to treat you like one, I or Cassian will make sure they never do it again.” She knew she could speak for him in this matter.

Fia pulled back, her eyes darting to Nesta’s fingers. “You’ll get smudged.”

Nesta shook her head. “I don’t care.”

Fia put her face in her hands. “But I do.”

Nesta wanted to gather the girl in her arms but instead she laid her hand solidly on Fia’s wrist, showing that the dirt didn’t bother her in the slightest. “I’m going to be right outside the door if you need me. Just call out.”

She got up and headed for the door to the hallway.

“Miss Nesta, ma’am?”

Nesta turned, and Fia rose and curtsied to her, the gesture faltering and weak but practiced. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Fia.”

Hurrying, Nesta left the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. Hot tears pricked her eyes. Fia was so grateful for a bathtub and hand-me-downs. Nesta could remember when she and her sisters fought over who got the first bath since the water would go cold, when her own wrists were thin enough to see each bone, when the only clothes they could really afford were secondhand. She squeezed her eyes shut tight against the memories and her own selfishness back then and the despair.

Fia needed people to love her and help her heal and keep her safe, and everything in Nesta screamed to be that person, but she wasn’t sure she was enough. She could be so prickly and awful sometimes, she was certainly going to say the wrong thing at some point.

Strong, callused hands slid up her arms and cupped her elbows, drawing her in for a hug.

“C’mere, Nes.”

Cassian held her close for a long time, stroking her back, until she was the one to lean away. She put her hand to his chest, readying herself for the conversation that was brewing in her head.

“Do you think she’ll like the other room beside Rhodes’?” Cassian asked, sounding anxious as he reached up and took her hand, thumb sliding over her fingers, “Since it's green like clovers, and she said she likes green. Rhodes and I were thinking we could get furniture made soon, too, like a bed her size and a dresser and that sort of thing.” His gaze was hopeful and sad at the same time as he looked down at her. “That is, you do want to—”

She kissed him, loving his big broken heart that was so in line with her own in this moment. Yes, they needed to talk more about what this would mean, and they needed to speak with Rhodes and also Fia herself, but this was how she wanted to begin. On the same page with Cassian.

Chapter Text

Nyx had his back pressed against a pillar at the edge of his room, right by the sheer drop-off that fell into the wide-open sky beyond the palace. His wings were squished against the pillar. The warm breeze wasn’t helping him to calm down as much as he had hoped. His face was hot. His mouth tasted like salt. Scrubbing the back of his arm against his face, he gritted his teeth against another wave of frustration.

Whatever he had been expecting down there, that hadn’t been it.

The park hadn’t been that bad at first. Yes, the statues were grotesque and the loud thoughts of the people he passed were repulsive for the most part. But the park had been kind of pretty. Then Cassian had found the girl and… He knew there was evil in the world, he wasn’t that sheltered, but he had never seen suffering like that up close. Had never seen someone so starved you could count the bones in her hand.

All of it together, the girl, the high fae male who didn’t care if she lived or died, the expressions on everyone’s faces, their reactions, and the general aura of vileness that hung in the air of the Hewn City…it was a lot to deal with. And then that conversation he had just had with his parents hadn't helped anything. Nyx hugged his knees and shored up his shield, not wanting any thoughts to get out. Or in.

A soft knock on the door made him lift his head. “Go away.”

The door opened anyways. Irritation rose up in Nyx, burning through his chest, making sparks pop at his fingertips. “Did you not hear me—”

“You didn’t even ask who was there,” Seryn said as she crossed the room. “Uncouth behavior.”

The sparks died. Nyx thunked his head back against the pillar. “Get out, Ser.”

Seryn ignored him, just like he knew she would. Stubborn was a nice term for Seryn’s brand of willfulness. Her braid slid back over her shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the drop-off, her hands flat on the cool, smooth floor. She kept her wings in tight in case the wind decided to gust.

She didn’t launch into quizzing him on the city or demanding to know what happened with Fia or asking about his feelings. Instead, she watched the sky. Nyx saw her tracking a falcon before she began looking at the clouds.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“I didn’t think you did.”

“Then what are you doing here?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Seryn lowered her wings, letting them rest against the floor. “Just because you don’t want to talk doesn’t mean you actually want to be alone.”

Nyx wanted to snap back at her that she was wrong, that he felt like being by himself right now and she didn’t know everything, but he also didn’t want her to leave because she was right in a way. Part of him had been hoping that Seryn and Rhodes would join him. He always felt better when his cousins were around. But he still didn’t want to tell her anything. He didn’t want her to feel the way he felt right now. And if his parents ever mentioned letting Rhodes and Seryn go down there— Nyx glared at Seryn and jerked toward the openness.

“Where’s Rhodes?”

“He was talking to Mor. I think they’re discussing seamstresses in the city,” she said. For a moment, Nyx was thrown, confused, until he realized they were figuring out how to get proper clothes for Fia. Nyx didn’t know how the girl was going to fit into the picture from now on, but he could tell that Uncle Cass desperately wanted to help her. Nyx felt like he should do something for her, too, but he didn’t know what would best. Yet another thing to mull over.

Nyx let the silence fall between them again as he stared at nothing, not paying attention to what she did, at least until she closed her eyes. He recognized the Valkyrie mind-stilling practice instantly. He had seen her and Aunt Nesta and Aunt Gwyn and Emerie do it hundreds of times. Seryn was considered a novice in their ranks, but this was still something she did every day.

“I’m not doing that,” he said, knowing he sounded petulant. But he had a sneaking suspicion she was trying to trap him into copying her. He wasn’t going to since he had too much to think about. Besides, he wasn’t any good at it. Aunt Nesta and Aunt Gwyn had both tried to teach him and Rhodes. The two of them had fallen asleep so many times the attempts had been deemed futile.

Seryn didn’t open her eyes. “Okay.”

Her quiet breathing and the rustle of diaphanous curtains in the breeze were the only sounds in the room for a while.

Against his own will, Nyx found himself matching her breaths. He forced himself into a different breathing pattern and yanked one leg in against his chest, his wings flapping once out of aggravation. “Seryn, if you’re going to try to be tricky—”

“It’s not for you,” she said as she breathed out. Her eyes opened into teal slits. “You can try it with me or not, but I need to do it, and I happen to be here right now.”

Nyx looked at her closer and gently stretched his mind toward hers. The solid wall of etched moonlight that was her shield was as familiar to him as her voice. A piece of that moonlight faded to let him in.

She was worried. Her anxiousness was a tense song in a minor key that coiled behind the moonlight wall. Worried for him and Fia and her father down in the city and Nyx’s father and mother and Aunt Nesta and Uncle Cassian and—

“Ser, it’s all right,” Nyx said instantly, sending soothing thoughts her way.

She slammed the moonlight wall back up and lifted her chin, expression frosty. “Don’t lie, it’s not.”

Nyx stretched out his leg and tapped his foot against hers. “You’re right. It’s not.”

Seryn sighed and leaned forward so far over her crisscrossed legs that her braid dangled over open air. Her wings lifted to counterbalance. “Want to go flying?”

“I thought you were mind-stilling.”

“Flying is almost as good, and you keep interrupting,” she said as she got up, stretching her wings. They were darker than Nyx’s, like her father’s. “Might as well fly. Tell my mum we’re going.” Right, because they had to let one of the adults know that they were going out, and he didn’t want to talk to his own parents right now.

Nyx let his mind drift, sneaking around his parents’ awareness. He didn’t want to catch their attention. He found his aunt talking animatedly to Lucien, their shields clear in his mind's eye. Lucien’s mental wall was a tapestry of blinding fire that he had built up over the years. Aunt Gwyn’s shield rippled and undulated like a river of molten pale blue stones. The effect made you want to get closer to see how it was made but also back the hell up because it was disconcerting to see stone move that way, like lava but not. She had discovered the idea in a book somewhere.

Like always, he recognized the similarities in how their shields felt even though they looked so different. He couldn't exactly put a name on it, but it was almost like cleverness given form, their shields bearing that mark like a scent. Seryn's shield also had the same feeling. It must have been because Seryn and Gwyn had Autumn Court ancestry farther back.

When Gwyn realized he wanted to talk, she opened her shield slightly. Hi, trouble. Is Seryn still with you?

Yes, he replied, grateful that she didn't ask how he was doing. We’re going to go flying, if that’s all right.

Stay within the boundary lines, she replied, her thoughts warm, like an understanding hug.

Nyx nodded to Seryn, and she darted into the sky with a couple swift wing beats. Nyx leaned against the pillar. Aunt Gwyn? Can I stay at the cottage tonight?

Nyx and Rhodes had a room in cottage by the river, and there were also a couple guest rooms in case their parents or anyone else stayed over. Each child had a place to stay at each home, and they also had clothes and belongings scattered throughout the houses. Sometimes Nyx had to go up to the House of Wind or to the cottage to get something he had left there.

Aunt Gwyn’s answer was quick. Yes, of course, but you can’t avoid your parents forever.

Always so to-the-point. He appreciated that about her, unless she was making it clear that he couldn’t hide out forever at the cottage and the House of Wind.

Nyx sent back the general feeling of acknowledgement and took off after Seryn, letting the wind brush aside his thoughts. He flew as fast as he could, putting on speed so he had to focus on what he was doing.

Seryn must have realized he needed a challenge because she lifted a hand, back-flapping to bring herself up short. A ball of light appeared in her palm. He had to dive to avoid getting hit as she hurled it at him. Midair tag. You could play it with constructs made from the power of Siphons, which is what Rhodes did, but Seryn used her lightweaver powers and Nyx used whatever he felt like he needed to practice. Soon, Seryn was dodging water while he was dodging starlight, and they both were too busy attacking and weaving and outmaneuvering each other to dwell on the horrible events of the afternoon. It was temporary, but at least he wasn’t spiraling in his own head anymore.

Chapter Text

Nesta stayed outside of her and Cassian’s room and waited. The fact that the girl couldn’t swim made her nervous, and she had said she would be nearby if she was needed. Cassian had left a while ago to go and talk with Rhodes, to at least start making sure that their son understood that this was a huge decision and that it wasn’t…they couldn’t be flippant about it. Rhodes would have to be willing to accept Fia, though Nesta had a feeling he had already decided she was a part of the family in his eyes.

It had been a while since Nesta had heard any splashing. A flash of fear went through her as the image of unnaturally still water lodged in her mind. She turned and knocked softly on the door. “Fia, is everything all right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the quick reply, “Just getting dressed.”

The fear dimmed. In her mind, she added a note to ask Gwyn if she could help give Fia swimming lessons before the weather became cool. Perhaps Gwyn and Varian. He had helped teach the other three when they were little, though their wings made swimming interesting.

Nesta knew the dresses wouldn’t fit perfectly, but she hoped that Fia could find one that she liked. Of course, they would get her brand new clothes very soon, whatever she liked or preferred and in as many shades of green as she wanted. Green and gold, to highlight her beautiful eyes.

Would Fia even want to come with them? She had assumed that Fia didn’t have any family outside of the Hewn City and the brother she had lost. Her heart clenched at the idea of the girl going back there even if she did have family who lived in the city, in that darkness. But what if there was someone beyond the city? Cassian had told her the girl was a brùnaidh, but Nesta didn’t know anything about that people group.

Nesta leaned her head back against the door. She would do whatever was best for Fia. But part of her felt like she had found a missing piece of her family, like Fia was meant to be Rhodes’ sister and her and Cassian’s daughter. That ancient wise female presence that occasionally spoke to her seemed to be on the outskirts of her awareness and agreeing as well. Still. Nesta pushed down her insecurities for the moment.

Minutes passed by. Nesta knocked on the door again. “Fia?”

There wasn’t an answer. Nesta waited. And waited some more. She knocked once more, not wanting to be a busybody but also suddenly thinking about the massive drop-off windows and how Fia had been so weary, her legs unstable, and if she had wandered too close— It had been so long since the children had been unable to fly, Nesta hadn’t considered that danger.

More silence met her. “Fia, I’m coming in,” she said as a warning before opening the door.

The room was empty. It looked like the clothes had been gone through, refolded, and set to the side. There were towels missing, and Seryn’s rabbit was also no longer in the neat pile. Nesta tugged fiercely on the bond between her and Cassian as she rushed toward the open window, and a moment later, he dove past, launching from higher up in the palace. As he barreled toward the ground in response to the silent but clear reason for her fear, searching for Fia, Nesta whirled back toward the room, stretching out what remained of her power. “Fia?”

What is it? It was Rhys this time, most likely because Nesta hadn’t bothered to keep a good shield up. Her brother-in-law must have sensed her spike of dread or noticed Cassian’s similar feeling. Or possibly have seen Cassian throw himself into the sky.

The room seems empty, I don’t see her—I remembered the windows—

Rhys was quiet for a moment but his quick response was lined with a calming tone. She’s near you, Nesta, but she’s asleep. Deep asleep. I’ll tell Cassian.

That’s when Nesta noticed the corner of a plush cream towel poking out from underneath the bed. Nesta rushed over and dropped down to her knees beside the bed and bent to look under it. Found her. She sent relief in the direction of Cassian and felt his recognition of the emotion and her discovery as he turned around.

In a nest of towels, Fia was curled up fast asleep, wearing a soft dark jade dress and holding Seryn’s rabbit to her chest. Wet curls flopped over her face. One of her ears twitched, but she didn’t move, her exhaustion bordering on unconsciousness.

Sitting on the floor, Nesta battled with what to do. Let her sleep under the bed? Pull her out and find her a real bed? Letting her sleep on towels, no matter how soft they were, didn’t seem right when there were plenty of beds. But if she had crawled under there to go to sleep, that meant she didn’t trust them, or that’s how Nesta interpreted it, and it might hurt whatever trust she did have in them even more if Nesta moved her.

Her jaw was tight as Cassian landed in the massive window, stepping out of the air and into their bedroom, nearly silent except for the whisper of his closing wings. As she met his questioning gaze, she nodded toward the visible bit of towel.

Sighing, Cassian headed toward her, the stress fading from his expression. “That’s better than the alternative.” He scrubbed one hand over his face. “I didn’t think about the windows.”

“I didn’t either,” Nesta said, “They haven’t really been a danger to the children in years.” It wouldn’t be an issue if Fia was steady on her legs, which she would be eventually, after more food and rest and care.

Cassian sat down on the floor beside her, arranging his wings so they were tucked in tight. He reached for the edge of the towel, but Nesta caught his wrist. He glanced at her. “We can’t let her sleep under there. It can’t be comfortable.”

“But she probably decided to fall asleep there because it seems safer,” Nesta protested, “She’ll be disoriented when she wakes up if we move her.”

He considered it, hazel eyes darkening. “So we let her stay cramped under the bed? I…” His wings rustled as he leaned back. “I can’t, Nes. Not when she was in that cage for so long. It was so small she couldn’t stand up.”

Through their bond, she could feel all that the wrath he had blazed with earlier wasn’t gone. It was currently locked away so he could actually think without giving into the urge to blast back down to the Hewn City and destroy that High Fae couple.

“Maybe it’ll show her she can trust us if she wakes up safe, even if she’s not under the bed,” Cassian said.

Nesta nodded. She didn’t want Fia to be uncomfortable, in any case, and sleeping on towels, even insanely expensive ones, couldn’t be as nice as one of the actual beds. Besides, she could tell it was going to grate at Cassian if he couldn’t make sure the girl was taken care of in the best way possible.

Cassian snagged the corner of the towel. Slowly, he pulled the nest and therefore Fia out from underneath their bed. She shifted, burrowing farther into the massive towel, but she didn’t wake up.

“We should stay here tonight,” Nesta said, reaching over to brush Fia’s wet hair out of her face, revealing a painfully hollow cheek. “There’s no reason why we couldn’t go back to Velaris tomorrow instead of today.” That way Fia could sleep as long as she needed. Rhodes liked the Palace well enough, and he would stay if asked, unless Nyx being upset made him want to tag along with his cousin. If that was the case, then he might ask to go wherever Nyx wound up. Nesta had a feeling that her nephew was going to try to stay with someone besides his parents to give himself some space. She understood that. There was a bit of her in him, after all.

“Feyre and Rhys wouldn’t mind,” Cassian said, “Maybe Gwyn could go to the House with Az and ask it to help get a room ready?”

“I bet she would be willing to do that,” Nesta said, knowing that Gwyn would say yes and that the House would also listen to her. Azriel most likely would return soon, anyways, leaving the High Fae male and his wife to sit in the dungeons and wait for the actual punishment that would be dealt later.

Cassian glanced down at Fia. “I think Seryn would let her sleep in her room here.” The bed was closer to her size and that room was across from Rhodes’, which was beside Cassian and Nesta’s room. In any case, Nesta intended to stay with her until she woke up. The window incident had made her more apprehensive and reminded her that the Palace, with its ceiling-to-floor gaps in the walls, wasn’t the safest of the Night Court residences. At least Nesta fully trusted the House to keep an eye on her.

Once they were home, she could grab Gwyn and they could go look up whatever they could find about the kind of faerie Fia was. It was always nice having a librarian-researcher-archivist Valkyrie as one of her best friends.

Cassian carefully picked up Fia and the rabbit she was clutching. His eyebrows lifted as he noticed the toy.

“It’s on loan,” Nesta said. She had a feeling that Seryn might miss it once she left it behind, since Nesta knew she still slept with it every night, but Nesta knew better than to try to give it back. Her stubborn niece wouldn’t accept its return from anyone besides Fia herself.

“It’ll be a wonder if Ser goes to sleep,” Cass said, echoing her own thoughts. He shifted to pass Fia over to Nesta, who was startled into lifting her arms. “I’ll go talk to Rhys and Feyre and Gwyn if you want to put her to bed.”

She did. Nesta wanted to tuck her in and make sure she was warm and cozy. As Cassian passed Fia over to her, she held her close, losing another part of her heart to the face that looked even younger now that the girl was asleep.

“We can do this, Nes.”

She nodded once. “I think we’re meant to.” Or she hoped she wasn't misinterpreting that feeling in her chest.

Leaning over, Cass gave Nesta a rough, affectionate kiss on the temple. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

The House of Wind welcomed its visitors by lighting up the windows with cheerful faelight as they landed on the veranda high above the city. Gwyn released her hold on Rhys’ shoulder as he gently let her feet touch the ground. She had considered flying Calliope back to Velaris, but she had already raced the pegasus from Eventide to the Hewn City. While Calliope would’ve been up to the task, this was also faster and made more sense with the children tagging along.

Nyx landed in front of her and Rhys and walked straight into the House as he drew his wings in, not once looking behind him at his father. Gwyn sighed as Rhys stiffened. Ah, yes, it was that bad, wasn’t it.

Gwyn had spoken briefly with Lucien about what he knew regarding what happened in the Hewn City, but she hadn’t had a chance to ask Nyx about it. She only knew that he was desperate to put space between himself and his parents, going so far as to accompany her and Seryn when they went to the House of Wind to help get things ready for Fia.

Seryn touched down on the veranda’s railing. She used her wings to balance her as she walked along the railing toward them for a moment and then lightly skipped down to the veranda. Taking a step to Gwyn’s side, she glanced up at Rhys. “He’s still mad. I’ll talk to him more.”

Gwyn watched Rhys try to cover up the heartache in his eyes as he turned toward Seryn. “I…thank you, moonbeam.”

Seryn’s eyebrows came together in a small frown. It looked like she was about to say something but instead she nodded her head at Rhys and followed after cousin, wings held straight and tense.

Rhys’ voice was monotone. “She wanted to say she wasn’t doing it for me, didn’t she.”

Most likely. Gwyn couldn’t read her daughter’s mind and Rhys wouldn’t in this moment, but she knew that look on Seryn’s face. The fact that she had bitten her tongue on her blunt honesty was a testament to the fact that she was growing up. And perhaps, for a second, she saw Rhys as her High Lord instead of her uncle and acted like a member of the High Lord's Inner Circle instead of family. A subtle shift but still recognizable.

Gwyn briefly put her hand on Rhys' arm.

“Come on. We need food.” Or a moment of calm and someone to talk to. Over the years, their dynamic had solidified into a rock steady sister-in-law/brother-in-law friendship, bonded through similar interests and parts of their past. She knew when he needed a moment of not being The High Lord.

“I should go, there’s a lot to do.” But he stayed, watching the door, perhaps wishing Nyx would come back and at least tell him goodbye.

“After food,” Gwyn said kindly, taking him by the elbow and guiding him toward the impressive dining room. The lights glowed brighter and one flickered teal like it was saying hello. Gwyn smiled. Visting the House of Wind was always like visiting home. She had lived in the library for so many years and then there had been the months where she lived in one of HoW’s actual rooms, one that was across the hall from Azriel’s. Now they stayed in the same room when they slept over.

“Hi, HoW, nice to see you,” she said, addressing the wall sconce that had turned temporarily teal. “Can we have something to eat? And later I need to talk to you about something important.” She would get the children to help her design a room for Fia. Later, when she was ready, the girl could redesign it herself, but she needed something cozy to come home to.

The sconce flickered again. Two slices of cake with forks sticking in them appeared on the table. The scent of cream cheese icing and spices drifted up from the still-warm cake. Well, the House usually had more cake than anything else in its stores, seeing how Nesta and Rhodes were cake-eating fiends. She should’ve expected this.

“Cake is technically food.” Gwyn slid one plate over to Rhys while she pulled the other toward herself and then dropped down onto one of the seats at the table.

Picking up the plate, Rhys picked up the plate and sunk his fork into the cake, his movements mechanical. He left it there. “I didn’t know what to say to him.”

“What did you say to him?”

Rhys gave her a brief rundown of his and Feyre’s conversation with Nyx after everything that had happened in the Hewn City. Gwyn listened, sipping on a glass of water the House had also delivered.

Gwyn frowned as Rhys wrapped up with Nyx storming out. “He had some points. You know how I feel about the image that’s projected down there and everything. But I’m surprised you didn’t mention any of the initiatives.”

“It didn’t seem like the right time. Or enough.”

She sort of agreed. But she also knew she was complicit in that. The last ten years had seen some improvements come to the Hewn City, ones that weren’t widely broadcasted. Avenues for people to escape from the darkness through certain protected and known contacts, the ban on arranged marriages, the installment of a public library system. She had helped with the last one, though Azriel hated it every time she went down there. Honestly, she didn’t love it either, seeing how an inventory of the Hewn City's royal archives had almost killed her once years ago. Someone had sneaked an unlocked cursed book onto the shelves. It was true that some of the people down there did revel in unchecked evil. But that didn’t mean all of them did.

Rhys set the cake on the table. “What if he hates me now?” It came out quiet, barely more than a whisper.

“He doesn’t hate you, Rhys,” Gwyn said. “He’s upset and scared. He needs time to calm down. And we all need to take a closer look at the Hewn City.”

“We’ll have a meeting this week,” he said, and when her eyebrows quirked, he shook his head. “A planning meeting. We’ll start coming up with a better actionable plan with real dates and timelines for how to improve life in the Hewn City.”

Gwyn nodded. It was past time for it, and they all knew it. The strides they had taken, as many as there were, they weren’t enough. She nudged his plate toward him.

Rhys hesitated and then took a bite. Some of the tension in his limbs loosened as he went in for another forkful. “This is damn good cake.” It didn’t look like he was really enjoying it, but it was too good to ignore.

“HoW’s perfected the art of the cake,” Gwyn said, taking a bite of her own slice. At least this would give Rhys a bit of energy before he headed back to the palace where it was far beyond time to get to work. Speaking of work, she and Nyx and Seryn probably had a long night ahead of them, and she would wait up for Azriel. She liked to be there for him whenever he had to do work like he was tonight. It was rarer these days, but it was still a part of his duties.

“Gwyn,” Rhys said after a long time spent in companionable silence, “When you start researching brùnaidh, I’d like to assist. I want to help Fia and knowing more about her people…it’s important.”

Lucien had passed on the type of fae that Fia was, and she had instantly known she was going to go look it up. He had said he would also tell her more about what he personally knew later, since they were originally from Autumn but there weren’t as many left there now. “We can put an annotated bibliography together. Nesta will want to help. And I’ll also go to Day.” Where she would have access to all of Helion’s libraries. They were collaborative partners on the public library system in Prythian, so she already spent a decent amount of time in his court. Also, that’s where the pegasus were supposed to live. Day Court had always been her second favorite.

Rhys set his empty plate on the table. He glanced toward the open dining room doorway, and she knew he was wondering if either Nyx or Seryn would appear. Or wait, maybe that wasn’t all…

“Do either of you want cake?” she asked, lifting her voice. Two pairs of feet scurried off, one louder than the other. With a half-smile, she turned to Rhys. “I guess my lure didn’t work.”

Rhys stood. “Thank you for the attempt.” Leaning over, he gave the top of her head a quick brotherly kiss. “And thank you for the conversation.”

“I’m glad we’re going to try harder,” she said, an old piece of guilt beginning to unwind in her chest. She wasn’t in charge, obviously, but she was a part of the Inner Circle. Saying she was busy with the Valkyries and raising a child and the first decade or so of her mating bond wasn’t acceptable. She needed to try harder, too.

Rhys nodded. “My gratitude to you as well, HoW.” He put his hand over his heart and extended it to the House. In response, it made the plates disappear and opened the door to the veranda wider for him. Ah, it must’ve picked up on Nyx’s feelings. “And I’ll take my leave.”

Once Rhys was gone, Gwyn stood up and clapped her hands once. “Imps! I know you didn’t go far.” The House dropped an apron and a leather hair tie onto the table for her. Gwyn grabbed the hair tie as Nyx and Seryn peeked into the dining room, Nyx’s sullen scowl plastered in place and Seryn wearing her father’s patented cool expression.

Gwyn yanked her hair up into a ponytail. “It’s time to get to work.”

Chapter Text

As he stepped into the dining room with Nesta for breakfast the next morning, Cassian clocked the hint of movement against the wall to his left. He had thought Fia was still asleep. It seemed that he was mistaken. Instead of still being curled up in the blankets on Seryn’s bed, Fia was standing flush against the wall, her hands wrapped around the handle of a broom that was much taller than she was.

Where the hell had she found that? Cassian had been to the palace hundreds of times and never seen a broom.

When Fia stood that still, she seemed to blend into her surroundings. Even the dress she had picked appeared to take on the same shades of the palace walls. His gaze wanted to shift away from her. He forced himself to not give into what had to be some kind of natural glamour she possessed.

“Good morning, Fia,” he said cheerfully, getting a look over the shoulder from Nesta as he pressed his hand against the small of her back. She hadn’t noticed the girl, but she followed his line of sight. She went slightly rigid against his touch.

Fia bobbed a little curtsy. She seemed steadier on her feet after a good night’s sleep, or he hoped she had actually slept the night. Surely she hadn’t gotten up during the night and started cleaning. “Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” she said, edging toward the door, “Didn’t mean to be disturbing you.”

“You aren’t doing anything of the sort,” Nesta said kindly, not correcting her yet on what to call them. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Fia nodded and trained her gaze on the marble floor. “It was a very fine bed, thank you greatly for its use.”

“You’re welcome,” Nesta said, stepping farther into the room.

 He assumed they were on the same page about not addressing the whole broom situation just yet. Fia was obviously having trouble believing them when they said she wasn’t a servant and that she wasn’t expected to clean. People most likely lied to her every day in the Hewn City. The broom must’ve made her feel safer, like her usefulness would protect her from upsetting them.

With another apologetic curtsy, Fia continued creeping toward the door, keeping to the wall. The broom made a shushing sound against the floor.

Cassian didn’t want to scare her, but he also didn’t want her to disappear or go start working on other chores. “Would you like to join us for breakfast? It’ll just be us and Rhodes.” Everyone else had winnowed to Velaris for the night, though Rhys would be coming back for them later that day.

Fia’s golden eyes widened. She gripped the broom, almost hugging it to her chest. “I can eat in the kitchen. When I find it. And I haven’t finished sweeping yet.”

Cassian was saved by Rhodes’ arrival from having to figure out how to make it clear she was invited without it sounding like an order. Tousle-headed from sleep, he wandered in, yawning and stretching his wings, already wearing a training outfit. Bumping his arm against Cassian’s, he moved over and hugged Nesta good morning. He rubbed at one eye. “Morning. Fia, what do you eat for breakfast?”

“Good morning. I’ll eat whatever’s in the kitchen,” she responded, curtsying yet again.

“Nah, don’t do that,” he said, “I mean the curtsy. You don’t need to do it.” He yawned once more and leaned against the dining room table. “We have everything in the kitchen so we should narrow it down. What do you like?”

“Bread?”

“Good, we’ve got loads of that, even here," Rhodes said, "Aunt Elain’s crazy about bread, and she’s teaching Lucien how to make it…we’ve probably got tons and not all of it can be burnt.”

“I don’t mind burnt bread,” Fia said, “I can eat that, I’ll pick off the real burned parts.”

No. There was no way Cassian was going to let her eat crispy burnt black bread that they were saving to toss out to the birds. They had perfectly good food. They just had to convince her that she needed to at least eat the same food they did. She was still starved, those hollow cheekbones prominent, the dark patches under her eyes making her look gaunt.

Rhodes blinked and shook his head. “You don’t have to eat anything burned, like I said, we’ve got too much bread. The lovebirds could open their own bakery with the rate they’re baking.” He looked around at the chairs at the table before crossing his arms over his chest. “Can we eat on one of the terraces? Like a picnic breakfast.”

Cassian and Nesta exchanged a look. He saw some kind of understanding light in Nesta’s eyes.

“I don’t see why not, it’s a lovely morning,” Nesta said, “If you go get a blanket for us, little bear, your father and I will search through the larder.”

He realized what they were both getting at a second later. None of the chairs would be comfortable for Fia. It was the reason why eating at the low table had been a good idea yesterday. Also, with her insistence about eating in the kitchen, changing the location entirely did seem like a good idea. Maybe it would encourage her to eat with them instead of ducking into the kitchen.

Rhodes got up from the table. “Come on, Fia, I think I know where Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre hide the extra quilts.”

Fia hugged the broom but followed after Rhodes, her bare footsteps almost completely silent. She really did look a lot steadier than yesterday, though a good wind would still bowl her over.

When the children were gone, Cassian ran a hand back through his hair. “What do we do about the broom?”

“Let her keep it, I think,” Nesta said. She bit her lower lip, narrowing her eyes at nothing in particular. “Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t want to scare her or make demands, but I don’t want her to do chores, either.”

“We allow her to set the pace of letting go of it?” Cassian said. His memories drifted back to how Rhys’ mother Vanora had dealt with him in Windhaven as a boy. She had rules, like staying clean and eating healthy food first and wearing shirts, but some of it she had let him grow used to on his own. Like sleeping in a bed. For the first year, he sometimes slept in the bed and sometimes he had slept on the floor. When he was feeling anxious, he had sometimes slept under the bed, where no one could get to him. Rhys used to wake up and talk to him when that happened.

Nesta rested her hand on his forearm and then pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Growing up, Rhys’ mother took in me and Azriel like we were her own,” he said, “I wish I could talk to her about Fia.” The old ache rattled inside him. When he had lost Vanora, it was like losing his own mother all over again, except he had actually known Vanora for longer. Some days he missed her and Isolde so much it took his breath away. The centuries had dulled the ache except when something reminded him of the two of them. Sometimes Nyx’s mischievous grin looked exactly like Isolde’s—

“When we get back to Velaris, we should talk to some of the families who took in younglings after the war,” Nesta said, “The situation is different, but I feel like their advice would be useful.” She squeezed his arm. “But I wish you could speak to Vanora, too.”

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “She would’ve liked you, Nes.” It wasn’t the first time he had said something like that. Nesta was just as defiant and ragefully stubborn as Vanora was, but in a more polished way. Vanora had been a tornado hurtling through a mountain pass. Nesta was pure razor sharp silver death.

Nesta smiled. “If I was able to talk to her, I’d also want to ask her how you and Azriel turned out decent while Rhys is…so very Rhys.”

Cassian snorted. Once he would’ve puffed up in outrage at the insult to his brother, but things had changed not too long after his and Nesta’s mating ceremony. He tended to take her side more often than not. Besides, Rhys and Nesta also had a better relationship nowadays, even if they did still butt heads in a spectacular way on occasion. “Me and Az are just decent?”

“Would you prefer a different adjective?”

Cassian caught her by the hips, holding her in place. “Yes. Pick something else.”

Nesta angled her head, chin jutting out. “Arrogant? Hot-headed? Frustrating? Those are mostly for you, not Az, by the way.”

“Nothing positive for me besides decent?”

“I might need more time for the positives, I’ll have to wrack my brain.”

Cassian growled and playfully tightened his grip, hauling her closer so she was against his chest. He could never get enough of her. “It can’t be that difficult.”

“Oh? Can’t it though.” Nesta reached up and grabbed his chin to jostle his head. “This is what we call fishing for compliments, love.” She patted his cheek and then slipped out of his grasp. “Let’s go see what’s in the kitchen. I’ll think while we work.”

“I expect a report.”

She patted his cheek once more, a bit sharper. “It’s suddenly harder to think of positive adjectives but I’ll keep trying.”

Cassian grinned. "Trying is all I ask for, sweetheart."

Chapter Text

Gwyn looked up from her book as Nyx dropped onto a chair at the table in the House of Wind’s breakfast nook. He crossed his arms on the sturdy carved stone tabletop and put his forehead down, his messy black hair falling into his face. His wings drooped. The tips brushed the floor.

 If a boy could personify exhaustion, it would be Nyx in that moment.

“Did you sleep at all?” Azriel asked. He was sitting beside Gwyn and trying to write down a report while she wriggled her toes farther under his thigh, her bare foot propped on the seat of his chair. Partially because she knew he craved touch. Partially because she knew it was distracting, and that report…it was a difficult one.

Nyx didn’t lift his head. “I slept wonderfully, so excellently in fact that it doesn’t require extra needless details because there are none, thank you for asking. No one in any world’s history has ever slept better.” His muffled voice was rough. “Again, thank you.”

Azriel and Gwyn exchanged glances. Az wrapped his hand around her ankle, giving it a squeeze. 

Late last night, long past the time Seryn and then Nyx were supposed to be asleep, he had shown up toward the end of their room renovation project, freshly bathed with an old darkness in his eyes. Gwyn knew that look well. His shadows had rushed to her and Seryn and Nyx, curling around them, making sure everything was all right.

Sensing something was off, Seryn had hurried over and hugged her father. After a long, hesitating moment, he had tentatively touched her hair and then relaxed, hugging her back. Gwyn had started rattling off the changes to the room while Azriel listened and held their daughter, anchoring himself outside of the dungeon rooms below the Hewn City and to the present.

 Nyx hadn’t said much the entire evening. In an extremely uncharacteristic move, he hadn’t asked any questions. He had participated in the clean-up that evening and made a couple aesthetic suggestions for Fia’s room, but he wasn’t fully there. Gwyn could tell her nephew’s mind was churning. Clever and always planning, Nyx was sorting and processing all the new information from the Hewn City.

Not too long after Az arrived, Nyx had headed off to bed in his room in the House of Wind. Seryn had stayed up as long as she could manage, but she had eventually fallen asleep in the sitting area of Gwyn and Az’s quarters, unwilling to leave when she could tell Az was unsettled. Az had carried her off to bed before returning to Gwyn. Their conversation about what had happened in the Hewn City had been quick but thorough. Deimos had worked Fia’s brother to death and would’ve most likely done the same to the girl. She had been in that cage for three days. It wasn’t her first time in it. And Azriel couldn’t stand knowing that he hadn’t known, hadn’t found out earlier.

He didn’t care that Deimos had purchased a ward for his house that made prying eyes glide past and a glamour that would insist all was well. Azriel felt he should have known. She sent solid reassurance down the bond to ease him as much as he would allow. Deimos was to blame for what happened to Fia. But they would work harder to make sure it never happened again in the Hewn City. Azriel couldn’t bear all the blame and shouldn’t.

Gwyn had stroked Azriel’s back until he fell asleep, arms hugging her middle, his head on her lap. Eventually she had nodded off sitting up against the headboard, though she had woken in Az’s arms, warm and comfortable.

In any case, none of them had gotten a solid full night’s sleep.

“You could go back to bed,” Gwyn said to Nyx, hand flat against the pages of her book. “Seryn’s still asleep.”

Nyx shook his head but kept his forehead anchored against his folded arms.

“Then you should eat.” Azriel pushed a plate of sausage and eggs over until it bumped against Nyx’s arm.

Nyx pulled his arms in tighter. The plate squeaked away from him on its own, moved by a flicker of midnight.

Azriel sighed. “If you don’t eat, training is going to be hell this morning.”

The plate scooted all the way to the center of the table. “I’m not hungry.”

Leaning over, Azriel put his hand on the back of the boy’s head, kind. “Nyx…”

“You can talk to us or just one of us if you need to,” Gwyn said gently, “If you want to.”

The House must have wanted to help as well because the plate drifted back over to Nyx. A cup of hot chocolate popped into existence along with a basket of tempting muffins and pastries.

Nyx went rigid at the variety of kindness and then tried to burrow even deeper into his own arms. “It’s not that—I’m fine, it’s fine, you know, it’s actually a beautiful morning.” He scooped out from under Azriel’s hand. “I’m going out over Velaris. Like I said, I’m not hungry. Thanks though, HoW. I’ll be back for this grueling training session that’s going to be so terrible, and I’ll probably even be on time.”

Without waiting for them to reply, he jumped out of his chair and hurried out of the breakfast nook. Gwyn sighed and closed her book, setting it on the table with a light thud. The cup of hot chocolate and the plate of muffins remained, as if HoW was wishing Nyx would come back. Gwyn had the same wish, but she doubted it would come true any time soon.

“I’ll talk to him,” Azriel said, unconsciously echoing what Seryn had said the day before. “When he gets back. The flight will do him good.”

Gwyn took Az’s hand and squeezed it. “Maybe you should follow him.”

“I would if I didn’t think he’d spend the entire time trying to get away from me and exhaust himself.”

“Fair point.”

Two familiar girls in training outfits came through the door, both of them sporting cream-colored Valkyrie novice ribbons. The first was short with wild black and brown streaked hair, bat-like ears, and two horns jutting up and beginning to curve backward between her massive ears. Her novice ribbon was wrapped neatly around one of those nubbin horns. One ear swiveled forward while the other swiveled back as she headed straight for the table, throwing herself into the empty chair.

“What’s gotten the princeling all grouchy? He just about tore my head off for saying he had ugly eye bags,” she said, grabbing one of the abandoned sausages. She grinned at Azriel. “What’d you do?”

Azriel lifted an eyebrow at her before pushing a bowl of berries her way. “You were the one who was rude. Also, you’re neglecting a balanced diet.”

She frowned and grabbed another sausage. “I like being rude and I like my diet lopsided.” In support, the House slid the basket of muffins over toward the girl. She plucked an orange and raspberry muffin encrusted with sugar off the top with her free hand and lifted it in a toast to the wall. “Thanks, HoW.”

“No good morning for us, Roisin?” Gwyn asked the girl who was one-third of the Valkyrie team Seryn was assigned to. The other third was the half-nymph girl who had stopped to look out the window at the city below. The pair must have been let into the family part of the House by HoW. They had been there enough times with Seryn and the boys that the House recognized and claimed them.

“Good morning, Seryn’s mother and Seryn's father,” Fola said with a smirk, as if she hadn’t been to their home dozens of times and slept over and gone on trips with them. Like Gwyn and Azriel didn't treat her and Roisin like honorary daughters. She brushed her curly silver hair back over her shoulder with one web-fingered hand and approached Gwyn’s chair. Leaning against the arm of the chair, she nimbly filched a slice of tangerine off the plate in front of her. Gwyn gave a light affectionate tsk at the irreverent girl. “We heard Seryn was here, but it seems we heard wrong.”

“Nah, they’re here, she’s probably here, unless she’s with Cass and General Lady Death,” Roisin said. She peeled the sugary top off the muffin and popped it into her mouth. “So hand her over, she’s ours for at least an hour.”

“She could also be with Emerie or Rhys and Feyre,” Gwyn countered.

“Or Lucien,” Fola said. Her eyes lit up, the cool greens gleaming. “And Elain! When is the mating ceremony? Are we invited?” Her normally wry smile became dreamy. “They make such a lovely pair. He’s so dashing, and she’s so enchanting, it’s like a story from a book.” Her love of tame classic romance novels was widely known throughout the Valkyrie ranks.

“Seryn’s not, she’s here,” Roisin said. She took a bite of the sausage. “I can smell her. And I don’t want to go to a ceremony.”

“Her scent is always here,” Fola said. Perching on the arm of Gwyn’s chair, she took a piece of melon from the plate this time. “That doesn’t mean she’s here.”

“Does ‘cause it’s fresh,” Roisin said. “See, I can be a spy.” This was directed at Azriel. “I’d be terribly good at it.”

“Hmm,” he said, nodding once. “You do know that silence is a part of the job, do you not?”

Roisin bared her slightly pointed teeth. “Yes!”

“Practice that first.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Why don’t you two go wake Seryn?” Gwyn said before Roisin could get riled up. She needed to go get ready for training herself.

There were multiple training sites for the Valkyries throughout Prythian now, but the main center in the Night Court was still the grounds on the roof of the House of Wind. Some of the Valkyries were priestesses from the Library, but there were others from all over. Roisin was from a nearby mountain village while Fola had come from the Summer Court with her aunt Siloea, who was a full-fledged Valkyrie.

“No need,” a sleepy voice said from the doorway. Seryn scrubbed the palm of her hand against one eye and yawned as she leaned against the doorframe, wings askew. Already decked out in a set of training clothes, a novice ribbon was tied around her long black hair, the one white streak braid and tucked back as well.

“Good morning, Ser.” Azriel gestured with his fork to the empty chair across from him. “You should claim that before Fola does.”

“Don’t bother,” Roisin declared. She snatched up the basket of muffins and pastries and swung up out of the chair, catching Fola’s arm. “We’re going to go up to the training grounds and wait for the others.”

Seryn made a face. “Must I?”

“We’re bonding,” Fola said as Roisin hauled her toward the door.

“Which means y’don’t get a choice, Wings,” Roisin said, grabbing her arm as well.

Seryn managed to wave once to Gwyn and Azriel before she was yanked out the door. Roisin’s laughter trailed back behind the three young Valkyries, and a pang went through Gwyn’s heart as a memory of her own youth slipped into her mind. She could see Catrin walking backwards ahead of her in acolyte robes, head tilted back as she laughed. Gwyn and another acolyte, Euo, followed her out of the stone hallway and into the sunny courtyard, arm in arm, giggling.

Azriel’s fingers brushed her cheek. “Gwyn?”

“Just remembering things.” She offered him a small smile. “Good things.” His thumb stroked her skin, and she leaned into his touch. “I’m going into the city to pick up a few things for Fia after training. I’d like you and Ser to come with me, if you’re up for it.” And maybe Nyx would come too if the conversation went well. It Nyx even let the conversation happen…

Azriel nodded. “I expect Fola and Roisin will be joining us as well.”

Gwyn huffed out a laugh. “Don’t you enjoy tagging along with a troop of Valkyries?”

He smiled a little. “Always.”

Chapter Text

Rhodes picked a balcony with flowers boxes that shielded most of the views of the drop-off into open air. It was the one closest to Elain’s room (Lucien’s room too, now) and redesigned by Feyre to appeal to her sister. The obscured view wasn’t intentional, simply an effect of the airy terrace garden. Climbing vines curled over and along the balcony railing, and blooms danced in the constant breeze.

With Cassian and Nesta’s help, Rhodes had set up a breakfast spread that could rival one provided by the House of Wind. Across the blanket in the middle were dishes of hot and cold sausages, sliced boiled eggs, ham, fruit, muffins, butter, jam, and of course, fresh homemade bread.

Fia had insisted on helping set out the blankets and pillows, but Rhodes, Cassian, and Nesta had worked alongside her. Judging by the way she kept stopping to stare or moving to get out of their way, Fia seemed unsure of what to think about it. It was harder to read her when she was wearing the glasses Mor had let her borrow. But Cassian felt like the slight lift of her ears was a good sign.

Now that she had taken a bath and dried off, it was easier to make out how there were swirls of darker markings on her tawny arms. She had chosen a dark green dress with no sleeves, but it was long on her even though it was Seryn’s from when she was younger. Fia needed dresses made for her. Her hair was loosely curly and dark brown. Her tail tuft was the same color as her hair but it was a puff of long straight fur. Her large pointed ears were fuzzier too, the fur on them fluffier.

“Here, it’s better with jam on it,” Rhodes said as he slid a glass dish of raspberry jam toward Fia. She was nibbling on a piece of toast, but she did have a couple strawberries and half a muffin on her plate. She had picked up and torn one of the smaller ones in two so fast that Cassian hadn’t realized what she was doing until she carefully put the bigger half back on the plate. Fia dipped the knife into the dish and looked at Rhodes, a bit of jam falling back into the rest. He nodded at her. “Try it, you might like it.”

While Fia scraped a thin layer of jam on the toast, Cassian picked up an orange and started peeling. “How’d you sleep, Rhodes?”

“Fine,” Rhodes said. He dipped his fork directly into the eggs and ate a bite, earning him a reproving glance from Nesta. “I’m still mad at you.”

Cassian tossed a strip of orange peel back onto the plate. “Still? I thought you’d gotten over that.”

“Not so easily distracted,” Rhodes replied. He used a spoon to ladle out a portion of eggs onto his own plate, not willing to risk another Look from his mother. “Nyx was really upset.”

“I know,” Cassian said. He needed to check in on his nephew. Most likely he would still be at the House of Wind, refusing to go home; eventually he would have to whether he wanted to or not. Rhys and Feyre wouldn’t allow him to avoid them forever. “It wouldn’t have been any better if you had been there.”

“Might have been. You should’ve taken me.”

Beside him, Nesta stilled, the idea of Rhodes going down there affecting her the same way it had Cassian yesterday. He could feel her anxiety about it roll down their bond as she stared at Rhodes, seeing not a boy on the verge of becoming a young man but their baby.  

“You wouldn’t like it. You’re too nice.” Fia put the knife back into the dish, her eyes on her toast. She winced when she looked up and noticed they were all looking at her. Her ears flattened against her head. “I shouldn’t have spoke, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s true,” Nesta said, “Don’t be afraid to speak what’s true.” She plucked the orange from Cassian’s fingers and pulled it apart. Leaning over, she placed some sections on Fia’s plate and a couple on Rhodes before handing what was left back to him, though she took a slice of her own as a tax.

“Especially around us,” Cassian told Fia. “You’re welcome to speak whenever you like.”

Her right ear flicked. She nodded.

“What’s it like? The Hewn City?” Rhodes asked.

“You can also choose to not speak,” Nesta said, now giving Rhodes The Look. "You don't have to answer him, Fia."

He ducked his head. “Sorry, Mum’s right. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s always dark,” Fia said quietly. "Even with torches or candles." Cassian couldn’t tell if she was answering Rhodes because she wanted to or if she still thought she would be punished for not obeying. “The dark eats the light. And everyone’s the worse for it.”

Rhodes hunched forward. “How long have you lived there?”

“I don’t know,” Fia said. She looked around the terrace, at the flowers blooming in their pots and containers. “I was awful small when I saw the sun last. Before that, I remember we lived under the furry green towers. Henris said they were called trees.” She bit her bottom lip, her tail curling around to rest in her lap. “They’re still alive, aren’t they? The trees?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, “They’re all over the place in the rest of the Night Court, all sorts of them.” She must have lived in a forest somewhere. How had her family wound up going Under the Mountain?

“We’ll see some soon, promise,” Rhodes said in a rush.

“Was it always just you and your brother?” Nesta asked, searching for answers to the questions in her heart, “Where are your parents?”

Fia played with her tail tuft. “I don’t remember them true well. Henris said they died in the big fight. And we came here with the dark soldiers.”

“Do you mean the war?” Cassian asked, “Against Koschei? Or Hybern?” Both were over ten years ago. Hybern was almost fifteen years ago. Fia didn’t look that old, but then again, some faerie children aged at a slower rate. It could be that brùnaidh were a type of faerie that had long-lasting childhoods. Yet another thing about her they needed to figure out.

She shook her head. “I don’t know against who. I’m very sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what’s important,” Cassian said, “I’m sorry for your loss, for your parents and your brother.”

“We all are,” Nesta said, reaching out and putting her hand on Cassian’s thigh. He caught her fingers and squeezed them.

Fia wrapped both hands around the puff at the end of her tail. Slowly, she released it. “May I ask something?”

“Of course,” Nesta said.

She moved so that she was standing, her hands by her sides. So tiny. She barely came up to Cassian’s shoulder when he was sitting on the ground. Taking off the sunglasses, she blinked and then looked at each of them. “You’re all very kind. If it would please you, can you buy my bond from Deimos?” Cassian was too stunned to speak and Nesta and Rhodes seemed the same. Their silence must have frightened her because she stepped forward and curtseyed. “I know I’m not much and I can’t work as hard as some folk, but I’m very fast when I’m fed enough to not be tired. But I don’t need much food. I’m good with cleaning silver because my fingers are nimble quick, and I can get into small spaces to dust—”

“No!” Rhodes exploded, jumping to his feet, arms open to her. Fia jerked back, arms raised to block herself from a blow. Rhodes put up his hands, panic on his face. “No, that’s not what—Fia, we don’t want you to be a servant.”

She kept her head hidden but pressed her plea. “I swear I wouldn’t disappoint, I’d do everything—”

“Please stop,” Rhodes said, his hands dropping, clenching into helpless fists.

Cassian understood how Rhodes felt because he wanted to do the same thing. He wanted to catch her in a hug and comfort her and promise she wouldn’t ever be hurt again because he was going to protect her with every sinew and bone in his body.

Nesta stood, her hand touching his shoulder before she moved around the edge of the blanket. She fluffed Rhodes’ hair once to reassure him before gingerly gripping Fia’s arms. As she knelt, she gently pulled her arms away from her face and then held the girl’s hands in her own. “Do you remember last night when I told you that you weren’t a servant any longer? And that Cassian and I, and Rhodes as well, won’t allow anyone to treat you like one?”

Fia hesitated and then nodded.

“That holds true this morning. And the next. And every morning from now on,” Nesta said. That resilient fire that lived within her burned in her eyes as she tapped Fia’s hands together once. “If you’re asked to do a chore, it’s because we all do them from time to time. And if you refused, you wouldn’t be starved or caged. You are no one’s servant.”

Trembling, Fia looked at Nesta and then Cassian with those big golden eyes. Tears shown in them, unshed, frightened. “Then what am I, if not that?”

“Free,” Cassian said, rising. “And a member of our household for as long as you’d like, if you want to come home with us.” He desperately wanted to say the word family, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her or pressure her into it.

“This isn’t home?” Fia asked, a tear rolling down her cheek. “What more is there? What will I do?”

“We do all sorts of things, like lessons and training and reading and art and gardening and stuff. I don’t like art,” Rhodes said. He picked up a napkin from the picnic blanket and held it out to her. “You can pick things, but you’ll probably have to go to lessons.”

“I’ve never had lessons. Can’t I clean for you?” she asked, pulling away from Nesta to take the napkin. She held it in her hand until Rhodes mimed for her to wipe her tears with it. She stared at him, crying harder.

“You don’t need to clean, our house is magic,” Rhodes said, “It cleans itself. And it’s going to like you a lot, it’ll be really nice to you.”

“I don’t want to not be useful. It’s the worst you can do.” Her eyes darted over to where the broom was leaning against the balcony railing.

Cassian couldn’t stop himself from kneeling next to Nesta, close to Fia. Taking the napkin, he used it to dry some of her tears. “You’re useful just by being you. You can clean if you want to. But if you never picked up the broom again we wouldn’t think you weren’t useful or want you less.”

“Come with us,” Nesta said. She held out a hand to Fia. “As long as you want to stay, our home is yours.”

For a moment, Cassian feared that Fia was going to flee, that she would take off inside and hide. But finally she put her hand in Nesta’s and sniffled. “I won’t be a bother.”

“It’ll be a delight having you there,” Nesta said, smiling back at her. Cassian could feel her relax through their bond, the fear of rejection fading. Because Fia could have said no and they would honor that choice and find her somewhere safe to go, somewhere people would take care of her. She could still say no. However, Cassian hoped she wouldn’t because as Rhodes started telling her more about the House and her golden eyes widened, all he could see was his daughter listening to her brother.

Chapter Text

As Cassian landed on the widest veranda of the House of Wind, the one outside of the formal dining room, Nesta felt the warmth of the House surge toward her like a silent welcome. She smiled as the doors flew open.

Cassian was holding her, and in turn, Nesta had Fia in her arms. Fia held her hands over her ears to block out the wind, and she wore Mor’s glasses to shield her eyes from the bright late morning sun. Nesta made a mental note to find her something to protect her ears; they seemed sensitive to the wind. For someone who had been living underground so long, she didn’t seem afraid of flying. Maybe it was the novelty of the experience.

While Cassian set Nesta down, Rhodes landed hard beside them, striking the ground like he was landing in the middle of a battlefield. He stood, wings peeling back for a slow reveal that would’ve been intimidating if there was anyone around to spook. And if Rhodes was double his height and wielding a weapon.

Cassian smirked. “Practicing?”

“Always,” Rhodes said, drawing his wings in tight and looking quietly pleased with himself. He turned back to wave as Rhys landed as well, those his was less intentionally impressive. Rhys had been the one to winnow them back from the palace to Velaris; Feyre had an art class scheduled at her studio, but she had sent word that she would stop by the House later.

“How’d it look?” Rhodes asked his uncle. “It’d be better if I had a sword. Or a battle axe. And siphons.”

“I’m certain the enemy would be rattled to the core even without those,” Rhys said. “Maybe you should ask the House its opinion.”

“HoW? Thoughts?” Rhodes called out to the House of Wind. Nesta looked down at Fia to see her reaction. She went wide-eyed behind the mostly opaque dark glasses as the House rattled its doors and the lights flickered. Rhodes’ smile was small but highly pleased. “Thanks.” He spun back toward Nesta and Cassian. “Fia, want to go inside? Nyx and Ser might be here.”

Nesta saw Rhys give a quick longing look at the House, most likely wishing that Nyx would run out to greet him if he was around. But Nyx didn’t appear.

Fia nodded. “It won’t mind?”

“Nah, the House likes anyone that Nesta does,” Cassian said, grinning at the girl. “It’s strange like that.”

Nesta pinched his side, and he leaned away with a smirk.

Fia tilted her head as Nesta reluctantly put her down. “You like me?”

“Of course I do,” Nesta said quickly, resisting the urge to cup the girl’s face for emphasis. Instead she gestured toward the House. “I’ll introduce you.”

As Cassian, Rhodes, and Rhys started for the open doors, Fia tugged on Nesta’s trousers. Nesta stopped immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never been introduced to a house before,” Fia whispered urgently. She pushed the glasses up so they were sitting on top of her head and wrung her hands. “What if I do it wrong?”

“You can’t do it wrong, I promise,” Nesta said, reaching out to rest her hand over Fia’s anxious ones. She gave the girl’s long delicate fingers a squeeze. “The House will be excited to have you, trust me. Actually, don’t be surprised if it tries to give you things.” She could already sense the House’s curiosity, like the windows were turned slightly toward them, HoW straining to see who Nesta was speaking to out on the balcony.

“I can’t take anything more from it,” Fia said, “I’ve already got much too much from everyone. I have to give Seryn back her rabbit. Mister Cassian has it, doesn’t he?”

“Just Cassian,” Nesta corrected gently, “And yes, he does.” It was tied to his belt with a little sash, which was sort of adorable. She straightened and started guiding Fia toward the House. “Remember, Fia, the House of Wind is magic. It can make almost anything, and it also talks through what it gives you. Gifts are its way of showing it cares.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, “But I don’t want to be insulting it.” She sighed, one ear tipping up while the other slanted down. “I’ll do my best.”

“Try not to worry,” Nesta said.

As they stepped into the dining room, Cassian turned back toward them, leaning a hip against the massive wooden table. Rhodes was still there, but Rhys had gone further into the House, presumably to see if anyone else was home. It was later in the morning, so the Valkyries would be finished with training for the day. If the others were around, they were being very quiet.

“Fia, this is the House of Wind, or as we sometimes call it, HoW,” Nesta said, filling a little silly, but this was important to Fia. Nesta wanted her to feel welcomed and at ease, and if formally introducing her to the House helped, that’s what she was going to do. “HoW, this is Fia.”

“Nice to meet you, House of Wind,” Fia said. She hesitated, turning to one side and then the other before curtsying where she was. “You have a very fine dining room.”

Nesta could almost feel the House assessing Fia, the warmth and curiosity extending to the girl. She was sure that Gwyn had told HoW what was going on, especially she since had been setting up a room for Fia. HoW must have helped. The faelights glowed golden. They flashed brighter near the hallway door, like a will o’ the wisp moving them onward.

“We have to do a tour,” Rhodes said. He walked over to Fia and held out a hand to her. “Come on, it’s a big place, but if you ever get lost, you can ask HoW for help.” As Fia took his hand, he headed for the door. “It’s not bad when you get used to the tunnels and hallways. There are lots of windows, so it’s not like being underground. Oh, and there’s a door that you can use to get outside now, it only works for people who live here, and my aunts, Gwyn and Emerie and Elain. Sometimes it works for Lucien.”

“When it feels like letting him in,” Cassian said. As the children moved into the hall, he gripped Nesta’s elbow, holding her still for a moment. “I think this the most our son has ever willingly spoken at one time.”

“I know,” Nesta said, “I wasn’t expecting him to become a guide in our own house.”

“I hope he stays excited,” Cassian said, a small frown appearing on his face. “I remember when I started living with Rhys. He’s the one that dragged me there in the first place, but we also hated each other’s guts for a while…”

“This is different,” Nesta said firmly. “And it’s Rhodes.” Nesta broke his grip to move in closer, her hand on his chest. “Something tells me that you actually didn’t hate him.”

“I sort of did,” Cassian said, a touch of chagrin in his hazel eyes. “Rich kid trying to rescue me? But I liked Vanora, and I’d’ve walked on coals for her, so I grew to not care about Rhys being a wealthy high fae brat.”

“He’s still a brat,” Nesta mumbled.

“I didn’t say he grew out of it,” Cassian laughed.

“I don’t think someone who is over five hundred years old can be a brat,” Rhys himself said as he rounded the corner.

Nesta smiled, not caring if it bothered him. She still liked getting under his skin sometimes, even if they were on better terms after all these years. “There’s no age limit to it. Regrettably for you.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, doing a good job of appearing nonchalant, but Nesta could see the unhappiness clinging to him. She nudged Cassian, who was already stepping forward, not needing prompting.

“We can send Nyx home when he gets back,” Cassian said quietly.

“Not if he doesn’t want to come home,” Rhys said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a false smile. “Then he’ll storm around the River House slamming the doors and flinging himself dramatically onto the couches.”

“He gets that honest,” Cassian said.

“True,” Rhys said. He tried for a real smile and couldn’t manage it. “When he returns, can you tell him we want to talk with him, Feyre and I? I can give him space for now, but he does have to come home eventually.”

“Of course, brother,” Cassian said. He gripped Rhys by the shoulder and shook him a bit, encouraging him in their rough, physical way. “Make Az spar with you some time today. Or Feyre. Lucien’s hanging around, isn’t he? He’s good with a sword.”

“I’m fine, Cass,” Rhys said, but Nesta knew that wasn’t true, not really. “I’ll bring some things for Fia soon.”

“Don’t do too much…” Nesta said, already envisioning Rhys’ pick-me-up shopping trip.

Rhys smirked. “I would never.”

Now that was a blatant lie—she didn’t get the chance to call him out on it because Cassian was already pulling her away as Rhys left for the balcony again. Maybe he would be sensible with his purchases. For once.

Chapter Text

Cassian was proud of Rhodes; he was proving to be a thorough and thoughtful guide. There wasn’t any part of the main House he had missed, and he had even pointed out the door down to the library, saying they would all go down there some other time. Rhodes had half grown up down there, riding in a sling against Nesta when he was a baby or carried by Gwyn or Emerie or doted on by one of the priestesses. Over the past few years, Rhodes had built a friendship with Bryaxis, to the point where the monster accepted their discussions as the keeping of Feyre’s bargain during the war. Technically, you could say Rhodes was the emissary to the nightmare that lived in the library. Cassian had been against it from the beginning, but Rhodes had never been horrified by the unholy creature and enjoyed their conversations. Cassian had tried to stop him, but Rhodes had moped around so much afterward that he had eventually given in, as long as he didn’t go to the edge of the pit alone.

Cassian was half-sure Rhodes still snuck down there.

Rhodes had shown Fia the training grounds, the personal library, sunrooms, the ballroom, the armory, guest rooms, reading nooks, every room he could think of, until they reached the main residence hall.

“This is where your bedroom is,” Rhodes said, gesturing toward the hall. “All our bedrooms are here, and Aunt Gwyn and Uncle Az and Seryn have rooms here too, for when they visit. Oh, and Nyx has Uncle Rhys’ old room. There’re more on the next floor, but…” He turned and pointed to a door. “This one’s yours.”

Fia’s tail wrapped around her leg. “That’s nice, but no trouble, I don’t need a whole room to myself.”

“Yes, you do. Where’d you used to sleep before?” Rhodes asked.

“In the kitchen,” Fia said “That’s where we stayed always when we weren’t needed.” She took a step back as Rhodes stared at her, his hazel eyes widening. Words tumbled out of her mouth like she needed to make that news better for him, make him not feel bad. “It wasn’t so awfully terrible, it was warm by the cookfire, and my brother, he burnt a blanket on purpose so we could have it, we cut it in half. It wasn’t bad at all with the blanket, it was right snug, honest.”

Too easily Cassian could imagine Fia curled up in the bottom of a wooden kitchen cabinet, huddled under a scorched blanket. 

“I had a blanket that’d been burned too, when I was little,” Cassian said in a rush, wanting to offer her empathy. It had been thrown out by one of the camp mothers. He had stolen it from the refuse pile and ran away with it as she flung the rest of her trash after him. He’d never understood why she cared if he stole something she didn’t even want anymore. 

“Was that before you lived with Uncle Rhys?” Rhodes asked. Cassian had told him about his early life leaving as an outcast in the war camp, but he hadn’t told him everything all at once. Some of the details, like this one, he learned as he grew up. 

“Before,” Cassian said. Vanora never would’ve allowed him to sleep with a burned blanket in her home.

Nesta touched the bedroom door. “I think Gwyn and Seryn and Nyx did some decorating. Would you like to see it, in case you might want to stay in a bedroom?” She nodded at Fia. “If you don’t want to, we’ll find somewhere else. It’s your choice.”

Huh. Well…Cassian could go along with that, even if he would’ve rather she choose the bedroom. He didn’t know what he would do if she wanted to sleep in a cupboard when there were so many beds.

A glimmer of hesitant excitement lit up Fia’s eyes. “I—I’d like to see, especially since they troubled themselves.”

As Nesta opened the door, Cassian felt a surge of gratitude to Gwyn, Ser, and Nyx, as well as the House of Wind itself. The room, once cream if his memory served him, was now a clover green, soft and inviting. The carpet in the middle was a darker green and dotted with plush fake mushrooms and moss. In the corner, the bed was small, with more blankets and pillows than anyone could ever use. Fresh flowers sat in a vase on a small desk that was also the right size, as was the comfy chair in the corner, a low bookshelf, a wardrobe, and a chest at the end of the bed. As Fia stepped inside, the room’s ceiling shifted downward, almost brushing the top of Cassian’s wings. 

Fia let out a tiny surprised yelp at the ceiling’s movement and bumped into his legs, leaning against him. “Is it going to fall?”

“No, it’ll stick right there, unless you ask it to get smaller,” he said, “The House just wants you to feel at home.”

“Your house is very greatly magical,” Fia whispered.

Cassian grinned. “Nesta Made it that way.”

“Because Mum’s amazing,” Rhodes said in a matter-of-fact tone, missing the loving look Nesta gave him since he was busy looking at the books on the shelves. “Seryn and Gwyn must’ve picked these out, a lot of them are their favorites. Adventures and mysteries, some historical fiction…I’ll get you some that I like. And you can take whatever you want from the library or shelves.”

Fia nodded, but a deep blush spread across her face and her ears drooped. Seeing how her brother couldn’t read, Cassian doubted that she had ever been given the chance to learn. They could teach her, but he didn’t want her to be embarrassed right now.

Cassian sat down on the carpet so that they were eye level. He smiled at her. “Seryn has some books that read themselves aloud. She might have left some of those, and if she didn’t, I know where they are in her room.”

Fia’s right ear lifted. She almost smiled back. “I’d like that, if she wouldn’t mind me borrowing one.”

“She wouldn’t mind at all. I’ll ask her whenever she gets back.” There had been a note on a table in the hall outside the dining room Azriel saying he and Gwyn had gone into town with Seryn, Fola, and Roisin. With all three little Valkyrie novices together, Az and Gwyn would be busy. Nyx was off on a flight according to the note. Cassian was staying alert to any noises that would let him know his nephew had returned. If he didn’t come back soon, Cassian would take Rhodes and go searching for him. 

“And you’ll give her back her rabbit for me? Please?”

“I’ll do that, too.”

Nodding, Fia began to gingerly explore the room while Nesta sat on the window seat and Rhodes pretended to read through a book. Her long-fingered hand brushed against the bed, touching the posts and the some of the blankets. She wandered around the edge of the carpet, bare feet silent on the stone floor. Fia didn’t make a lot of noise and drew very little attention with her movements, as if she was made for stealth. He didn’t know if she had been trained into that or if it came naturally. He hoped it was the latter.

She seemed tentative about touching anything, but she did look around the entire room. Cassian noticed tiny subtle changes as she walked around. HoW must have realized that the ceiling lowering suddenly had frightened her. Now the bed became smaller, the window seat slowly grew steps, and the carpet spread out, whorls creeping from the edges to cover more of the room, most likely in response to Fia’s bare feet. She hadn’t put on the shoes that had been left behind for her and hadn’t wanted others when Nesta had offered her other pairs. 

Fia tilted her head when she reached the window seat. “Did the House do those?” she asked Nesta, gesturing toward the carpeted steps up to the window seat. 

Nesta nodded. “Would you prefer something else?”

“No, this is very lovely,” Fia said, patting the middle step. “Thank you, House.”

The carpet on the steps became even thicker. 

“Do you like it?” Rhodes asked as he set his book back on the shelf. “The whole room, I mean. Not just the steps.”

Fia climbed up the steps. Standing on the cushioned seat, she looked out the window, one hand on the pane. “It’s so high here.”

“Is that all right?” Nesta asked.

Fia’s curls bounced as she quickly nodded. “Yes, so much, I like the clouds a great deal. The sky is nice. And flying, flying was amazing.”

“That was only a little ways, too, you’re going to love a long flight if you liked that,” Rhodes said. “But the room?”

“Are you sure it’s all right? If it’s mine for a while?” 

“It’s yours as long as you want it,” Nesta said, echoing her words from earlier. Within them, Cassian could almost hear what she wanted to tack onto it: please want it forever.

“I think I’d like to try it, then. But I can sleep wherever you want, if you need it sometime.” 

“Understood,” Nesta said.

Laughter and conversation trickled into the room, faint and distant but growing louder. It seemed like the shoppers had returned. Still no Nyx, unless he had joined them.

“Rhodes, we should probably go look for Nyx,” Cassian said, standing up from the carpet. “If you don’t need us for a moment, Nes.” He knew Nyx had a lot on his mind, but he couldn't let him wander by himself for too long.

“We’ll be fine on our own,” she said, “Fia, would you like to rest in here a while or would you like to meet Seryn’s teammates? They’re around her age.”

Fia began to walk down the steps. “Are they winged, too?”

“No, Fola’s half-nymph and half high fae, and Roisin’s a nighthob,” Rhodes said. “They’re nice enough, but they all get giggly when they’re together unless they’re training.”

“I think you’re just jealous,” Cassian said, grinning at Rhodes, who was never very prone to giggles, even as a baby.

Rhodes made a face. “No…”

“Giggles are good,” Fia said, her tone serious. “I’d like to meet them.”

As they left the room and Cassian closed the door, the wood creaked. A second doorknob appeared, this one farther down, as a new outline showed up, creating a much smaller door within the original. Swirling golden designs etched themselves across this smaller door, winding around the small doorknob. It was perfectly the right height for Fia. 

She put her hand flat against the new door, her shoulders straightening. Fia opened and shut the little door once, twice. The hinges didn’t even squeak. “It’s my size.” When she turned back toward them, she wore a small but true smile, winsome and showing tiny fangs in the corners. Her eyes flicked to the walls. “House of Wind, you are a wonder.”

Every wall sconce in the hall lit up and flared.