2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

The moment the words were out, I realized the stupidity of them. The stupidity of—of
what had been shoved down my throat these past few months.
Silence. Then Mor said with a soft venom that made me understand the High Lord’s
Third had received training of her own in that Court of Nightmares, “Let me tell you two
things. As someone who has perhaps been in your shoes before.” Again, that shared bond
of anger, of pain throbbed between them all, save for Amren, who was giving me a look
dripping with distaste. “One,” Mor said, “you have left the Spring Court.” I tried not to let
the full weight of those words sink in. “If that does not send a message, for good or bad,
then your training will not, either. Two,” she continued, laying her palm flat on the table,
“I once lived in a place where the opinion of others mattered. It suffocated me, nearly
broke me. So you’ll understand me, Feyre, when I say that I know what you feel, and I
know what they tried to do to you, and that with enough courage, you can say to hell with
a reputation.” Her voice gentled, and the tension between them all faded with it. “You do
what you love, what you need.”
Mor would not tell me what to wear or not wear. She would not allow me to step aside
while she spoke for me. She would not … would not do any of the things that I had so
willingly, desperately, allowed Ianthe to do.
I had never had a female friend before. Ianthe … she had not been one. Not in the way
that mattered, I realized. And Nesta and Elain, in those few weeks I’d been at home before
Amarantha, had started to fill that role, but … but looking at Mor, I couldn’t explain it,
couldn’t understand it, but … I felt it. Like I could indeed go to dinner with her. Talk to
her.
Not that I had much of anything to offer her in return.
But what she’d said … what they’d all said … Yes, Rhys had been wise to bring me
here. To let me decide if I could handle them—the teasing and intensity and power. If I
wanted to be a part of a group who would likely push me, and overwhelm me, and maybe
frighten me, but … If they were willing to stand against Hybern, after already fighting
them five hundred years ago …
I met Cassian’s gaze. And though his eyes danced, there was nothing amused in them.
“I’ll think about it.”
Through the bond in my hand, I could have sworn I felt a glimmer of pleased surprise. I
checked my mental shields—but they were intact. And Rhysand’s calm face revealed no
hint of its origin.
So I said clearly, steadily to him, “I accept your offer—to work with you. To earn my
keep. And help with Hybern in whatever way I can.”
“Good,” Rhys merely replied. Even as the others raised their brows. Yes, they’d
obviously not been told this was an interview of sorts. “Because we start tomorrow.”
“Where? And what?” I sputtered.
Rhys interlaced his fingers and rested them on the table, and I realized there was
another point to this dinner beyond my decision as he announced to all of us, “Because the