2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

CHAPTER
43
The wind roared around Rhys and me as he winnowed from the skies above his court. But
Velaris didn’t greet us.
Rather, we were standing by a moonlit mountain lake ringed in pine trees, high above
the world. We’d left the court as we’d come in—with swagger and menace. Where
Cassian, Azriel, and Mor had gone with the orb, I had no idea.
Alone at the edge of the lake, Rhys said hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”
I blinked. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”
His hands were shaking—as if in the aftermath of that fury at what Keir had called me,
what he’d threatened. Perhaps he’d brought us here before heading home in order to have
some privacy before his friends could interrupt. “I shouldn’t have let you go. Let you see
that part of us. Of me.” I’d never seen him so raw, so … stumbling.
“I’m fine.” I didn’t know what to make of what had been done. Both between us and to
Keir. But it had been my choice. To play that role, to wear these clothes. To let him touch
me. But … I said slowly, “We knew what tonight would require of us. Please—please
don’t start … protecting me. Not like that.” He knew what I meant. He’d protected me
Under the Mountain, but that primal, male rage he’d just shown Keir … A shattered study
splattered in paint flashed through my memory.
Rhys rasped, “I will never—never lock you up, force you to stay behind. But when he
threatened you tonight, when he called you … ” Whore. That’s what they’d called him.
For fifty years, they’d hissed it. I’d listened to Lucien spit the words in his face. Rhys
released a jagged breath. “It’s hard to shut down my instincts.”
Instincts. Just like … like someone else had instincts to protect, to hide me away. “Then
you should have prepared yourself better,” I snapped. “You seemed to be going along just
fine with it, until Keir said—”
“I will kill anyone who harms you,” Rhys snarled. “I will kill them, and take a damn
long time doing it.” He panted. “Go ahead. Hate me—despise me for it.”
“You are my friend,” I said, and my voice broke on the word. I hated the tears that
slipped down my face. I didn’t even know why I was crying. Perhaps for the fact that it
had felt real on that throne with him, even for a moment, and … and it likely hadn’t been.
Not for him. “You’re my friend—and I understand that you’re High Lord. I understand
that you will defend your true court, and punish threats against it. But I can’t … I don’t
want you to stop telling me things, inviting me to do things, because of the threats against
me.”