Eternal: Azriel

Chapter Fifteen

Once again I stood next to Nesta, facing three of the Mortal Queens. Our dresses of the finest fabric to keep up appearances.

The ancient queen huffs, "After being so gravely insulted the last time ... " A simmering glare thrown at Nesta. "We debated for many days whether we should return. As you can see, three of us found the insult to be unforgivable."

I narrow my eyes at her. Who does she think she is to insult Nesta like that? She's one of your people, why are you being so rude? These Queens should be doing everything possible to save their people.

"If that is the worst insult any of you have ever received in your lives, I'd say you're all in for quite a shock when war comes," Feyre says calmly.

"So he won your heart after all, Cursebreaker." The younger one says this time.

I noticed something different about Feyre this time too. I knew that there was something going on between Feyre and Rhys but it's changed.

"I do not think," Feyre says, "that it was mere coincidence that the Cauldron let us find each other on the eve of war returning between our two peoples."

"The Cauldron? And two peoples?" The golden one toyed with a ruby ring on her finger. "Our people do not invoke a Cauldron; our people do not have magic. The way I see it, there is your people—and ours. You are little better than those Children of the Blessed." She lifted a groomed brow. "What does happen to them when they cross the wall?"

She angled her head at Rhys, at Cassian and Azriel. "Are they prey? Or are they used and discarded, and left to grow old and infirm while you remain young forever? Such a pity ... so unfair that you, Cursebreaker, received what all those fools no doubt begged for. Immortality, eternal youth ... What would Lord Rhysand have done if you had aged while he did not?"

My back stiffens even more at her words. My memories go back to my conversation with Azriel. I haven't talked to him since that night. I haven't even gone back to the library too busy taking in his words.

Rhysand says evenly, "Is there a point to your questions, other than to hear yourself talk?"

A low chuckle, and she turned to the ancient queen, her yellow dress rustling with the movement. The old woman simply extended a wrinkled hand to the box in Morrigans's slender fingers. "Is that the proof we asked for?"

I'm curious to what they want to show them. What proof might actually give them the incentive to bring us the Book?

"Is my love for the High Lord not proof enough of our good intentions? Does my sisters' presence here not speak to you? There is an iron engagement ring upon my sister's finger—and yet she stands with us," Feyre speaks.

That's new. Feyre loves Rhys.

"I would say that it is proof of her idiocy," the golden one sneers, "to be engaged to a Fae-hating man ... and to risk the match by associating with you."

"Do not," Nesta hisses with quiet venom, "judge what you know nothing about."

The golden one folded her hands in her lap. "The viper speaks again." She raised her brows at me. "Surely the wise move would have been to have her sit this meeting out."

"Her presence here is the reason you are sitting in this very room. She offers her home and risks her social status for these meetings." I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at the Queens. I could feel Azriel tense as I spoke.

Queen or not, they do not insult the owner of the house at which they stand. "She stands as a representative of her people so she has as much right to listen as any of you." I don't drop my gaze from the golden one.