2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

Nothing had answered my silent call. So I figured it was as good a time as any as I said,
“How did you keep it out of her hands?”
Saying Amarantha’s name here, amongst such happy, celebrating people, felt like
inviting in a rain cloud.
Seated at his left, deep in conversation with Cresseida, Rhys didn’t so much as look
over at me. Indeed, he’d barely spoken to me earlier, not even noting my clothes.
Unusual, given that even I had been pleased with how I looked, and had again selected
it for myself: my hair unbound and swept off my face with a headband of braided rose
gold, my sleeveless, dusk-pink chiffon gown—tight in the chest and waist—the near-twin
to the purple one I’d worn that morning. Feminine, soft, pretty. I hadn’t felt like those
things in a long, long while. Hadn’t wanted to.
But here, being those things wouldn’t earn me a ticket to a life of party planning. Here, I
could be soft and lovely at sunset, and awaken in the morning to slide into Illyrian fighting
leathers.
Tarquin said, “We managed to smuggle out most of our treasure when the territory fell.
Nostrus—my predecessor—was my cousin. I served as prince of another city. So I got the
order to hide the trove in the dead of night, fast as we could.”
Amarantha had killed Nostrus when he’d rebelled—and executed his entire family for
spite. Tarquin must have been one of the few surviving members, if the power had passed
to him.
“I didn’t know the Summer Court valued treasure so much,” I said.
Tarquin huffed a laugh. “The earliest High Lords did. We do now out of tradition,
mostly.”
I said carefully, casually, “So is it gold and jewels you value, then?”
“Among other things.”
I sipped my wine to buy time to think of a way to ask without raising suspicions. But
maybe being direct about it would be better. “Are outsiders allowed to see the collection?
My father was a merchant—I spent most of my childhood in his office, helping him with
his goods. It would be interesting to compare mortal riches to those made by Fae hands.”
Rhys kept talking to Cresseida, not even a hint of approval or amusement going through
our bond.
Tarquin cocked his head, the jewels in his crown glinting. “Of course. Tomorrow—after
lunch, perhaps?”
He wasn’t stupid, and he might have been aware of the game, but … the offer was
genuine. I smiled a bit, nodding. I looked toward the crowd milling about on the deck
below, the lantern-lit water beyond, even as I felt Tarquin’s gaze linger.
He said, “What was it like? The mortal world?”