Helion shifted with impatience, that glistening, white fabric slipping over his muscled chest.
Thesan read that impatience, too, and said, “Nuan has been able to quickly create a powder for us to ingest in drink, food, however you please. It grants immunity from the faebane. I already have workers in three of my cities manufacturing as much of it as possible to hand out to our unified armies.”
Even Rhys seemed impressed at the stealth, the unveiling. I’m surprised you didn’t have a grand reveal of your own today, I quipped down the bond.
Cruel, beautiful High Lady, he purred, eyes twinkling.
Tarquin asked, “But what of physical objects made from faebane? They possessed gauntlets at the battle to smash through shields.” He jerked his chin to Rhys. “And when they attacked your own city.”
“Against that,” Nuan said, “you only have your wits to protect you.” She did not break Tarquin’s stare, and he straightened, as if surprised she did so. “The compound I’ve made will only protect you—your powers—from being rendered void by the faebane. Perhaps if you are pierced with a weapon tipped in faebane, having the compound in your system will negate its impact.”
Quiet fell.
Beron said, “And we are supposed to trust you”—a look at Thesan, then at Nuan—“with this … substance we’re to blindly ingest.”
“Would you rather face Hybern without any power?” Thesan demanded. “My master alchemists and tinkerers are no fools.”
“No,” Beron said, frowning, “but where did she come from? Who are you?” The last bit directed at Nuan.
“I am the daughter of two High Fae from Xian, who moved here to give their children a better life, if that is what you are demanding to know,” Nuan answered tightly.
Helion demanded of Beron, “What does this have to do with anything?”
Beron shrugged. “If her family is from Xian—which I’ll have you remember fought for the Loyalists—then whose interests does she serve?”
Helion’s amber eyes flashed.
Thesan cut in sharply, “I will have you remember, Beron, that my own mother hailed from Xian. And a large majority of my court did as well. Be careful what you say.”
Before Beron could hiss a retort, Nuan said to the Lord of Autumn, her chin high, “I am a child of Prythian. I was born here, on this land, as your sons were.”
Beron’s face darkened. “Watch your tone, girl.”
“She doesn’t have to watch anything,” I cut in. “Not when you fling that sort of horseshit at her.” I looked to the alchemist. “I will take your antidote.”
Beron rolled his eyes.
But Eris said, “Father.”
Beron lifted a brow. “You have something to add?”
Eris didn’t flinch, but he seemed to choose his words very, very carefully. “I have seen the effects of faebane.” He nodded toward me. “It truly renders us unable to tap our power. If it’s wielded against us in war or beyond it—”
“If it is, we shall face it. I will not risk my people or family in testing out a theory.”
“It is no theory,” Nuan said, that mechanical hand clicking and whirring as it curled into a fist. “I would not stand here unless it had been proved without a doubt.”
A female of pride and hard work.
Eris said, “I will take it.”
It was the most … decent I’d ever heard him sound. Even Mor blinked at it.
Beron studied his son with a scrutiny that made some small, small part of me wonder if Eris might have grown to be a good male if he’d had a different father. If one still lurked there, beneath centuries of poison.
Because Eris … What had it been like for him, Under the Mountain? What games had he played—what had he endured? Trapped for forty-nine years. I doubted he would risk such a thing happening again. Even if it set him in opposition to his father—or perhaps because of that.
Beron only said, “No, you will not. Though I’m sure your brothers will be sorry to hear it.”
Indeed, the others seemed rather put-out that their first barrier to the throne wasn’t about to risk his life in testing Nuan’s solution.
Rhys said simply, “Then don’t take it. I will. My entire court will, as will my armies.” He gave a thankful nod to Nuan.
Thesan did the same—in thanks and dismissal—and the master tinkerer bowed once more and left.
“At least you have armies to give it to,” Tamlin said mildly, breaking his roiling silence. A smile at me. “Though perhaps that was part of the plan. Disable my force while your own swept in. Or was it just to see my people suffer?”
A headache was beginning to pound at my right temple.
Those claws poked through his knuckles again. “Surely you knew that when you turned my forces on me, it would leave my people defenseless against Hybern.”
I said nothing. Even as I blocked the images from my mind.
“You primed my court to fall,” Tamlin said with venomous quiet. “And it did. Those villages you wanted so badly to help rebuild? They’re nothing more than cinders now.”
I shut out that, too. He’d said they’d remain untouched, that Hybern had promised—
“And while you’ve been making antidotes and casting yourselves as saviors, I’ve been piecing together my forces—regaining their trust, their numbers. Trying to gather my people in the East—where Hybern has not yet marched.”
Nesta said drily, “So you won’t be taking the antidote, then.”
Tamlin ignored her, even as his claws sank into the arm of his chair. But I believed him—that he’d moved as many of his people as he could to the eastern edge of the territory. He’d said as much long before I’d returned home.
Thesan cleared his throat and said to Helion, “You said you had two suggestions based on the information you analyzed.”
Helion shrugged, the sun catching in the embroidered gold thread of his tunic. “Indeed, though it seems Tamlin is already ahead of me. The Spring Court must be evacuated.” His amber eyes darted between Tarquin and Beron. “Surely your northern neighbors will welcome them.”
Beron’s lip curled. “We do not have the resources for such a thing.”
“Right,” Viviane said, “because everyone’s too busy polishing every jewel in that trove of yours.”
Beron threw her a glare that had Kallias tensing. “Wives were invited as a courtesy, not as consultants.”
Viviane’s sapphire eyes flared as if struck by lightning. “If this war goes poorly, we’ll be bleeding out right alongside you, so I think we damn well get a say in things.”
“Hybern will do far worse things than kill you,” Beron counted coolly. “A young, pretty thing like you especially.”