2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

Mor swore. And I looked at Rhys, my own heart breaking, about to demand why he
hadn’t pushed, why he hadn’t said more—
But his eyes were on the chair where the golden queen had been seated.
Beneath it, somehow hidden by her voluminous skirts while she’d sat, was a box.
A box … that she must have removed from wherever she was hiding it when she’d
leaned down to pick up her handkerchief.
Rhys had known it. Had stopped speaking to get them out as fast as possible.
How and where she’d smuggled in that lead box was the least of my concerns.
Not as the voice of the second and final piece of the Book filled the room, sang to me.
Life and death and rebirth
Sun and moon and dark
Rot and bloom and bones
Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and
trembling fawn. Love me, touch me, sing me.
Madness. Where the first half had been cold cunning, this box … this was chaos, and
disorder, and lawlessness, joy and despair.
Rhys smoothly picked it up and set it on the golden queen’s chair. He did not need my
power to open it—because no High Lord’s spells had been keyed to it.
Rhys flipped back the lid. A note lay atop the golden metal of the book.
I read your letter. About the woman you love. I believe you. And I believe in peace.
I believe in a better world.
If anyone asks, you stole this during the meeting.
Do not trust the others. The sixth queen was not ill.
That was it.
Rhys picked up the Book of Breathings.
Light and dark and gray and light and dark and gray—
He said to my two sisters, Cassian sticking close to Nesta, “It is your choice, ladies,
whether you wish to remain here, or come with us. You have heard the situation at hand.
You have done the math about an evacuation.” A nod of approval as he met Nesta’s grayblue
stare. “Should you choose to remain, a unit of my soldiers will be here within the
hour to guard this place. Should you wish to come live with us in that city we just showed
them, I’d suggest packing now.”
Nesta looked to Elain, still silent and wide-eyed. The tea she’d prepared—the finest,
most exotic tea money could buy—sat undisturbed on the table.
Elain thumbed the iron ring on her finger.