2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

tablecloth.
I said baldly, “I’m thinking it would be very easy to love you. And easier to call you my
friend.”
He smiled at me—broad and without restraint. “I would not object to either.”
Easy—very easy to fall in love with a kind, considerate male.
But I glanced over at Cresseida, who was now almost in Rhysand’s lap. And Rhysand
was smiling like a cat, one finger tracing circles on the back of her hand while she bit her
lip and beamed. I faced Tarquin, my brows high in silent question.
He made a face and shook his head.
I hoped they went to her room.
Because if I had to listen to Rhys bed her … I didn’t let myself finish the thought.
Tarquin mused, “It has been many years since I saw her look like that.”
My cheeks heated—shame. Shame for what? Wanting to throttle her for no good
reason? Rhysand teased and taunted me—he never … seduced me, with those long, intent
stares, the half smiles that were pure Illyrian arrogance.
I supposed I’d been granted that gift once—and had used it up and fought for it and
broken it. And I supposed that Rhysand, for all he had sacrificed and done … He deserved
it as much as Cresseida.
Even if … even if for a moment, I wanted it.
I wanted to feel like that again.
And … I was lonely.
I had been lonely, I realized, for a very, very long time.
Rhys leaned in to hear something Cresseida was saying, her lips brushing his ear, her
hand now entwining with his.
And it wasn’t sorrow, or despair, or terror that hit me, but … unhappiness. Such bleak,
sharp unhappiness that I got to my feet.
Rhys’s eyes shifted toward me, at last remembering I existed, and there was nothing on
his face—no hint that he felt any of what I did through our bond. I didn’t care if I had no
shield, if my thoughts were wide open and he read them like a book. He didn’t seem to
care, either. He went back to chuckling at whatever Cresseida was telling him, sliding
closer.
Tarquin had risen to his feet, scanning me and Rhys.
I was unhappy—not just broken. But unhappy.
An emotion, I realized. It was an emotion, rather than the unending emptiness or
survival-driven terror.