2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

The golden queen now gave a smile—a small, mocking one—and replied, “It is our
secret, and our gift from your kind.”
Fine. Rhys looked to me, and I swallowed as I inched forward on my seat. “War is
coming. We called you here to warn you—and to beg a boon.”
There would be no tricks, no stealing, no seduction. Rhys could not even risk looking
inside their heads for fear of triggering the inherent wards around the Book and destroying
it.
“We know war is coming,” the oldest said, her voice like crackling leaves. “We have
been preparing for it for many years.”
It seemed the three others were positioned as observers while the eldest and the goldenhaired
one led the charge.
I said as calmly and clearly as I could, “The humans in this territory seem unaware of
the larger threat. We’ve seen no signs of preparation.” Indeed, Azriel had gleaned as much
these weeks, to my dismay.
“This territory,” the golden one explained coolly, “is a slip of land compared to the
vastness of the continent. It is not in our interests to defend it. It would be a waste of
resources.”
No. No, that—
Rhys drawled, “Surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent.”
The eldest queen folded her withered hands in her lap. “Yes. To lose one life is always a
horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we
shall do it.”
I didn’t dare look at my sisters. Look at this house, that might very well be turned to
rubble. I rasped, “There are good people here.”
The golden queen sweetly parried with, “Then let the High Fae of Prythian defend
them.”
Silence.
And it was Nesta who hissed from behind us, “We have servants here. With families.
There are children in these lands. And you mean to leave us all in the hands of the Fae?”
The eldest one’s face softened. “It is no easy choice, girl—”
“It is the choice of cowards,” Nesta snapped.
I interrupted before Nesta could dig us a deeper grave, “For all that your kind hate ours
… You’d leave the Fae to defend your people?”
“Shouldn’t they?” the golden one asked, sending that cascade of curls sliding over a
shoulder as she angled her head to the side. “Shouldn’t they defend against a threat of their
own making?” A snort. “Should Fae blood not be spilled for their crimes over the years?”
“Neither side is innocent,” Rhys countered calmly. “But we might protect those who