Page 32 of Court of Lies and Deceit

The pain and desperation and tiredness in his voice as he says it throw me off so much that I don’t know what to say. Apparently, everyone else is struggling with the same thing, because we all just stand there, staring at him for a moment.

When the awkward silence begins to stretch, Alistair clears his throat and drops his arms. That desperation disappears from his eyes in a heartbeat as he instead draws his eyebrows down in a scowl once more.

“Remember when you asked me what I would do if I won the Atonement Trials?” he demands, looking at me and Isera.

“You never answered,” I reply.

“My plan was to buy a huge fucking mansion in some remote place far away, and then I was going to live there alone for the rest of my life. Away from everything and everyone. Forever.”

The silence that descends over our group pulses with tension. Isera looks like she’s about to punch him in the face, and Alistair is glaring back at her as if he is daring her to try. It makes my chest tighten and my stomach roll with nausea. I hate it when people who are supposed to be friends fight like this. It reminds me too much of how my parents always fought. And just like those times, I get ready to mediate in order to deescalate the conflict.

But before I can so much as open my mouth, someone else breaks the tense silence.

“So you’re a little grumpy,” Lyra says in a light voice. “That’s alright.” Her black dragon scale armor shifts slightly as she reaches into one of her belt pouches and pulls out a small pastry, of all things. Holding it out, she offers it to Alistair. “Here, have a snack.”

Alistair stares at her as if she has grown a second head.

To be fair, so do I.

If it had been anyone else, I’m pretty sure that Alistair would have turned them into a pile of ash at this point. But Lyra didn’tsay it mockingly. It wasn’t a taunt or an insult. Instead, as I watch her hold out that absolutely ridiculous little pastry with a smile on her face, it becomes crystal clear that Lyra is being completely genuine.

Alistair seems to realize that too, because he hesitantly reaches out and takes the offered pastry. Lyra’s grin widens, and she brushes a few crumbs off her hands, while Alistair just stands there, holding the pastry and looking even more bewildered than before.

“Well, are you going to eat it?” Lyra asks, and nods towards the pastry.

Blinking, Alistair starts in surprise. When she just raises her eyebrows, he slowly lifts the pastry and takes a bite.

“There you go.” Her eyes glitter in the morning sun as she nods. “My grandma always says that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Alistair chokes on the pastry. Coughing violently, his entire chest shakes as he tries to breathe and dislodge the bite of food at the same time. His face is bright red.

“And besides,” Lyra continues, and gives Alistair’s back a brisk thump. “My oldest brother always getshangrytoo, so I know how to recognize the signs.”

The firm thump in his back makes him at last cough out the bite of pastry that had gotten stuck in his throat. He gulps in a breath and then straightens before turning to stare at Lyra once more. His cheeks are so red that I swear he’s about to catch fire any second now.

For a few moments, no one seems to know how to react.

Then Draven bursts out laughing.

It’s such a wonderful sound of genuine mirth that it fills my entire soul. Goddess above, I could live off of that sound for weeks. Warmth floods my chest, and I once more find myselfswearing to any deity that will listen that I am going to carve out a future where Draven laughs like that often.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he says while dragging in a deep breath and composing himself again.

For one glorious second, both Lyra and Galen grin brightly. Then in a heartbeat, their smiles dim, and shame and regret slam across their features instead. Draven immediately notices, of course, and in the span of a few seconds, that wonderful atmosphere is gone again.

“You—” Draven begins, but he never has a chance to finish.

Alarm crackles through my veins as an arrow suddenly speeds through the air straight towards the side of Draven’s head.

“Watch out!” I scream, shoving him straight in the chest.

I normally wouldn’t be able to push him back like this, but he must trust my warning because he doesn’t try to keep his balance. Instead, he stumbles backwards from the shove.

The arrow speeds past in the space where his head used to be a moment later.

My heart jerks in my chest as I whirl around towards the attacker.

Panic lurches through me as I find a horde of fae soldiers pouring out onto the street. They swarm around us like a flood. Half of them are carrying bows and the other half is?—

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