2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

“No,” I said, and meant it. “But I’d prefer to be notified of any future schemes.”
“Duly noted.” Rhys yanked open the drawers and pulled out my undergarments. He
dangled the bits of midnight lace and chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t demand Nuala
and Cerridwen buy you something else.”
I stalked to him, snatching the lace away. “You’re drooling on the carpet.” I slammed
the bathing room door before he could respond.
He was waiting as I emerged, already warm within the fur-lined leather. He held up the
belt of knives, and I studied the loops and straps. “No swords, no bow or arrows,” he said.
He’d worn his own Illyrian fighting leathers—that simple, brutal sword strapped down his
spine.
“But knives are fine?”
Rhys knelt and spread wide the web of leather and steel, beckoning for me to stick a leg
through one loop.
I did as instructed, ignoring the brush of his steady hands on my thighs as I stepped
through the other loop, and he began tightening and buckling things. “She will not notice a
knife, as she has knives in her cottage for eating and her work. But things that are out of
place—objects that have not been there … A sword, a bow and arrow … She might sense
those things.”
“What about me?”
He tightened a strap. Strong, capable hands—so at odds with the finery he usually wore
to dazzle the rest of the world into thinking he was something else entirely. “Do not make
a sound, do not touch anything but the object she took from me.”
Rhys looked up, hands braced on my thighs.
Bow, he’d once ordered Tamlin. And now here he was, on his knees before me. His
eyes glinted as if he remembered it, too. Had that been a part of his game—that façade? Or
had it been vengeance for the horrible blood feud between them?
“If we’re correct about your powers,” he said, “if the Bone Carver wasn’t lying to us,
then you and the object will have the same … imprint, thanks to the preserving spells I
placed on it long ago. You are one and the same. She will not notice your presence so long
as you touch only it. You will be invisible to her.”
“She’s blind?”
A nod. “But her other senses are lethal. So be quick, and quiet. Find the object and run
out, Feyre.” His hands lingered on my legs, wrapping around the back of them.
“And if she notices me?”
His hands tightened slightly. “Then we’ll learn precisely how skilled you are.”
Cruel, conniving bastard. I glared at him.
Rhys shrugged. “Would you rather I locked you in the House of Wind and stuffed you