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2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

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“I didn’t ask to be here, or be given that week.”

“And yet look at you. Your face has some color—and those marks under your eyes are

almost gone. Your mental shield is stellar, by the way.”

“Please take me home.”

He shrugged and rose. “I’ll tell Mor you said good-bye.”

“I barely saw her all week.” Just that first meeting—then that conversation yesterday.

When we hadn’t exchanged two words.

“She was waiting for an invitation—she didn’t want to pester you. I wish she extended

me the same courtesy.”

“No one told me.” I didn’t particularly care. No doubt she had better things to do,

anyway.

“You didn’t ask. And why bother? Better to be miserable and alone.” He approached,

each step smooth, graceful. His hair was definitely ruffled, as if he’d been dragging his

hands through it. Or just flying for hours to whatever secret spot. “Have you thought about

my offer?”

“I’ll let you know next month.”

He stopped a hand’s breadth away, his golden face tight. “I told you once, and I’ll tell

you again,” he said. “I am not your enemy.”

“And I told you once, so I’ll tell you again. You’re Tamlin’s enemy. So I suppose that

makes you mine.”

“Does it?”

“Free me from my bargain and let’s find out.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

He just extended his hand. “Shall we go?”

I nearly lunged for it. His fingers were cool, sturdy—callused from weapons I’d never

seen on him.

Darkness gobbled us up, and it was instinct to grab him as the world vanished from

beneath my feet. Winnowing indeed. Wind tore at me, and his arm was a warm, heavy

weight across my back while we tumbled through realms, Rhys snickering at my terror.

But then solid ground—flagstones—were under me, then blinding sunshine above,

greenery, little birds chirping—

I shoved away from him, blinking at the brightness, at the massive oak hunched over us.

An oak at the edge of the formal gardens—of home.

I made to bolt for the manor house, but Rhys gripped my wrist. His eyes flashed

between me and the manor. “Good luck,” he crooned.

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