If not future MMC / High Lord / High King then why future MMC /High Lord / High King shaped?
But while my room was all softness and grace, his was marked with ruggedness. In lieu of a pretty breakfast table by the window, a worn worktable dominated the space, covered in various weapons. It was there he sat, wearing only a white shirt and trousers, his red hair unbound and gleaming like liquid fire.
Bare from the waist up, heād managed to haul on a pair of pants before opening the door, and hastily buttoned them as I strode past.
Lucien took a steadying breath, and I wonderedāwondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster.
Lucien spat at Rhysandās feet and shoved his sword between us.
āI claimed Lucien as my ownānamed him emissary, since heād already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people, while I ⦠can find it difficult. Heās been here ever since.ā āAs emissary,ā I began, āhas he ever had dealings with his father? Or his brothers?ā āYes. His father has never apologized, and his brothers are too frightened of me to risk harming him.ā No arrogance in those words, just icy truth. āBut he has never forgotten what they did to her, or what his brothers tried to do to him. Even if he pretends that he has.ā
Without further word, he slung me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of potatoes.
when I looked up, I found that he was runningāfast. Faster than anything should be able to move.
Tears shone in Lucienās remaining eye as he raised his hands and removed the fox mask. The brutally scarred face beneath was still handsomeāhis features sharp and elegant.
The King of Hybern murmured, āInteresting. So very interesting.ā He turned to the queens. āSee? I showed you not once, but twice that it is safe. Who should like to be Made first? Perhaps youāll get a handsome Fae lord as your mate, too.ā
His gaze on me. Face hard. As if heād seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coopāand he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mateāElaināagain. I gave Lucien a sweet, sleepy smile. So our game began.
āTell me anyway. List all of them.ā āYouāll die the moment you set foot in his territory.ā āI survived well enough when I found you.ā āYou couldnāt see that he had me in thrall. You let him take me back.ā Lie, lie, lie. But the hurt and guilt I expected werenāt there. Lucien slowly released his grip. āI need to find her.ā āYou donāt even know Elain. The mating bond is just a physical reaction overriding your good sense.ā āIs that what it did to you and Rhys?ā A quiet, dangerous question.
I lifted my head from his sculpted chest at last, my fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders as I peered into his concerned face.
āIād pick Beronās son, too.ā I stared at the princess beneath lowered brows. She shrugged, her smile growing. āAutumn Court males have fire in their bloodāand they fuck like it, too.ā
āIām going with you,ā he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. āIām getting my mate back.ā
His woods, by blood and law. He was a son of this forest, and here ⦠He looked crafted from it. For it. Even that gold eye.
I was in the process of constructing a rudimentary fishing pole when he waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands. Heād tied his hair up, a few strands of it falling into his face as he swooped down again and threw a second trout onto the sandy bank where Iād been trying to find a substitute for fishing twine.
"You enjoyed its pleasures and diversions. But donāt pretend you werenāt made for something more than that.ā
Lucien, to his credit, didnāt back away a step. From Rhys, or me, or the Illyrians. The Clever Fox Stares Down Winged Death. The painting flashed into my mind.
āYou should kill Beron and his sons and set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn,"
Heād always had a casual grace about him, but here, tonight, with his hair tied back and jacket buttoned to his neck, he truly looked the part of a High Lordās son. Handsome, powerful, a bit rakishābut well-mannered and elegant.
Lucien jerked his chin to Azriel. āThatās the information you need to gather. What my father knowsāif my brothers realized what she was doing. You need to start from there, and build your plan for this meeting accordingly.ā
Lucien glanced toward the shadowsingerāwho only nodded at him. āIām at your disposal.ā
He added to Lucien, who did not balk from those writhing shadows, āAfter lunch, weāll meet.ā
Especially since Lucien had left before breakfast for a library across the city to look up anything in regard to fixing the wall, a task Iād been more than willing to hand over. I might have felt guilty for never giving him a proper tour of Velaris, but ⦠he seemed eager. More than eagerāhe seemed to be itching to head into the city on his own.
āI donāt need one. I travel faster on my own.ā His chin lifted. āI will find her. And if thereās an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces ⦠Iāll find a way to do that, too.ā
My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, āIt will beāvery dangerous.ā A half smile curved Lucienās mouth. āGood. Itād be boring otherwise.ā
He didāand did not tell you,ā she added quickly to Rhysand, ābecause he did not want to raise your hopes. Not until Iād found a solution.ā No wonder heād been so eager to head alone into Velaris that day heād gone to help us research. I shot a look at Rhys. Seems like Lucien can still play the fox.
told them where to go. To come now, actually. So pushy, you Prythian males.
āHeās spent months helping them sort out the politics of who rules Prythianās slice of the human lands,ā
He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three rolesāan emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlināand still dress immaculately. Lucienās face revealed nothing of how Tamlin and his court fared. āItās fine.ā Cassian didnāt know why heād expected an update regarding the High Lord of Spring. Lucien only gave those in private to Rhys.
āI think Feyre wanted a progress assessment from someone who hasnāt seen her in a while.ā
His jaw tightened. āAs the youngest of seven sons, I wasnāt particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed Iād be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting ⦠I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.ā He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow. āIād say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.ā A long, steely look. āDid you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?ā
Nothingāultimately nothing. Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helionās sole heir.
āNo. But we need to summon Lucien,ā Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didnāt like it one bit. āWe need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears.ā
Cassian nodded. Rhys as High King: he could think of no other male heād trust more. No other male who would be a fairer ruler than Rhys. / Prythian would be blessed to have such leaders.
āVery well then, Rhysand.ā Amren also turned from the desk and the blades Rhysās magic now sheathed and set upon the surface. āBut know that the Cauldronās benevolence will be extended to you only for so long before it is offered to another.ā
Lucien stared out the windowāas if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent. As if he were setting his target.