2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

So I smiled a bit, the first smile of my new mask. Let them see that pretty, red mouth,
and my white, straight teeth.
His hand slid higher up my thigh, the proprietary touch of a male who knew he owned
someone body and soul. He’d apologized in advance for it—for this game, these roles
we’d have to play.
But I leaned into that touch, leaned back into his hard, warm body. I was pressed so
closely against him that I could feel the deep rumble of his voice as he at last said to his
court, “Rise.”
As one, they did. I smirked at some of them, gloriously bored and infinitely amused.
Rhys brushed a knuckle along the inside of my knee, and every nerve in my body
narrowed to that touch.
“Go play,” he said to them all.
They obeyed, the crowd dispersing, music striking up from a distant corner.
“Keir,” Rhys said, his voice cutting through the room like lightning on a stormy night.
It was all he needed to summon Mor’s father to the foot of the dais. Keir bowed again,
his face lined with icy resentment as he took in Rhys, then me—glancing once at Mor and
the Illyrians. Cassian gave Keir a slow nod that told him he remembered—and would
never forget—what the Steward of the Hewn City had done to his own daughter.
But it was from Azriel that Keir cringed. From the sight of Truth-Teller.
One day, I realized, Azriel would use that blade on Mor’s father. And take a long, long
while to carve him up.
“Report,” Rhys said, stroking a knuckle down my ribs. He gave a dismissive nod to
Cassian, Mor, and Azriel, and the trio faded away into the crowd. Within a heartbeat,
Azriel had vanished into shadows and was gone. Keir didn’t even turn.
Before Rhys, Keir was nothing more than a sullen child. Yet I knew Mor’s father was
older. Far older. The Steward clung to power, it seemed.
Rhys was power.
“Greetings, milord,” Keir said, his deep voice polished smooth. “And greetings to your
… guest.”
Rhys’s hand flattened on my thigh as he angled his head to look at me. “She is lovely,
isn’t she?”
“Indeed,” Keir said, lowering his eyes. “There is little to report, milord. All has been
quiet since your last visit.”
“No one for me to punish?” A cat playing with his food.
“Unless you’d like for me to select someone here, no, milord.”
Rhys clicked his tongue. “Pity.” He again surveyed me, then leaned to tug my earlobe