2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

Downstairs, Cassian and Mor were sniping at each other about whether Cassian could
fly faster short-distance than Mor could winnow to the same spot. I assumed Azriel was
nearby, seeking sanctuary in the shadows. Hopefully, he’d gotten some rest after dealing
with the Attor—and would rest a bit more before heading into the mortal realm to spy on
those queens.
Amren, at least, knocked this time before entering. Nuala and Cerridwen, who had
finished setting combs of mother-of-pearl into my hair, took one look at the delicate
female and vanished into puffs of smoke.
“Skittish things,” Amren said, her red lips cutting a cruel line. “Wraiths always are.”
“Wraiths?” I twisted in the seat before the vanity. “I thought they were High Fae.”
“Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are
nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even
want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.”
I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.”
“Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?”
“I thought they answered to Rhys.”
“They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.”
“Are they spying on me?”
“No.” She frowned at a loose thread in her rain cloud–colored shirt. Her chin-length
dark hair swayed as she lifted her head. “Rhys has told them time and again not to, but I
don’t think Azriel will ever trust me fully. So they’re reporting on my movements. And
with good reason.”
“Why?”
“Why not? I’d be disappointed if Rhysand’s spymaster didn’t keep tabs on me. Even go
against orders to do so.”
“Rhys doesn’t punish him for disobeying?”
Those silver eyes glowed. “The Court of Dreams is founded on three things: to defend,
to honor, and to cherish. Were you expecting brute strength and obedience? Many of
Rhysand’s top officials have little to no power. He values loyalty, cunning, compassion.
And Azriel, despite his disobedience, is acting to defend his court, his people. So, no.
Rhysand does not punish that. There are rules, but they are flexible.”
“What about the Tithe?”
“What Tithe?”
I stood from the little bench. “The Tithe—taxes, whatever. Twice a year.”
“There are taxes on city dwellers, but there is no Tithe.” She clicked her tongue. “But
the High Lord of Spring enacts one.”