Page 16 of Court of Lies and Deceit

“I will get right to it,” he says. “The man I want you to kill is called Danzo Wolfstalker and?—”

“You’ve been here,” Isera cuts off, her voice cracking through the air like a whip. Her eyes burn with cold fury as she stares Orion down from across the table full of plates and food and glittering faelights. “This whole time, you’ve been living your best lives here in the Unseelie Court while we have suffered under the dragon shifters’ rule for millennia.”

Lyra winces at the venom in Isera’s voice at the mention of the dragon shifters’ role in our suffering. Next to her, Galen casts a worried glance between her and the Unseelie King.

For a few seconds, ringing silence descends on the dining room. Orion is watching Isera in a highly assessing way, as ifhe is trying to decide whether to play with her for his own amusement or to simply slit her throat.

I stifle a grimace at Isera’s blunt accusation. It might not have been delivered in a very diplomatic manner, but I don’t blame her for reacting like this. I said much the same to Nysara, the Unseelie spy back in Frostfell, when I learned that the Unseelie Court had been free all this time.

The entire room is holding its breath.

A slow and deadly sharp smile spreads across Orion’s lips as he finally replies. And it’s only one simple word.

“Yes.”

Isera’s fingers close around the dinner knife on the table before her.

Anticipation sparkles in Orion’s eyes, as if he is excited to see what she does next. But before things can get too far out of hand, Draven cuts in.

“Keep the stabbing to a minimum,” he growls, and levels a commanding stare on Isera. “We have a job to do.”

Orion slides his tongue along his teeth, his eyes still on Isera. “Indeed.”

“Why was your court never conquered?” Alistair blurts out before Isera can retort. Or stab someone. His pale brows are furrowed in genuine confusion as he looks at the Unseelie King. “Why did the Icehearts never try to conquer you the way they did us?”

For a few moments, Orion only keeps watching Isera. Then he at last tears his gaze from her and turns to the rest of us.

With a mocking glance in Draven’s direction, he replies, “Oh, they tried. They just never succeeded.”

“Because you’ve been hiding behind your wards,” Draven counters.

“Precisely.” He doesn’t sound offended. He sounds proud. After a cold smile in Draven’s direction, he slides his gaze backto Alistair. “You want to know why your court was conquered all those millennia ago while ours has remained free all this time? Because we had wards. You didn’t. You just let anyone in.” His tone turns cruel and mocking. “Because you’renicelike that.”

Isera slams her fist into the tabletop. I jump at the loud bang and the rattle of silverware, and an apology is halfway to my tongue before I catch myself. I’m so used to always apologizing and doing everything I can to make sure no one is upset that it takes me a second to remember that I don’t have to do that anymore. I don’t have to make myself less and try to please everyone else just so that they will like me. But the instincts are still there, even though I’m working on ignoring them.

Wood scrapes against stone as Isera pushes her chair back and gets to her feet. That terrible bottomless rage burns in her eyes, making her look like a vengeful goddess risen from the pits of hell, as she stares Orion down.

“You son of a bitch,” Isera growls, her voice low and vicious, as she presses her palms against the table and leans forward to glare at Orion. “You could have done something. You could have helped us. If both of our courts had fought together, the Icehearts would never have won.”

“Firstly, I was not king back then. I wasn’t even alive back then. My great-grandparents weren’t even alive back then.” He smiles, his eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation, as he holds her gaze. “But if I had been the king back then, do you know what I would have done?”

He pauses for a few seconds, but Isera doesn’t humor him with a reply. Once the crackling silence has started to stretch, he finally continues.

“I would have conquered your court while you were busy fighting the dragon shifters.” His smile turns ruthless. “Then I would have warded it, just like our court was warded, and then I would have made you all kneel at my feet while I ruled it all.”

Next to me, Alistair grinds his teeth while anger pulses across his face. But it’s nothing compared to the cold fury in Isera’s eyes. Very slowly, she pushes her chair all the way back and takes a step away from the table. Her shoes produce slow ominous thuds as she starts towards the Unseelie King.

Orion’s smile widens. It’s a cold thing. Full of challenge and wicked taunting. “I suggest you sit back down.” His eyes glint as he drags his gaze up and down her body. “Before I put you on your knees instead.”

Ice explodes through the room.

I gasp, jerking back in panic as Isera shoots a shard of ice straight at Orion.

But it doesn’t even make it halfway to him before the room around me disappears.

Panic crackles through me like a lightning bolt as I suddenly find myself standing in the kitchen of my parents’ house back in the Seelie Court. There is a pile of broken glass on the floor right next to me. My chest tightens at just the sight of it. Broken drinking glasses. Those are irreplaceable. We weren’t allowed to have money, so we couldn’t just buy new ones. And getting replacements for things that broke sometimes took years. Which means we would be forced to drink from our hands for years to come after I broke these.

“I’m sorry,” I hear myself saying.

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