Feyre reached the door, knocked, and then there she was—Nesta.
She sat at the table where the Mask rested, a book open before her. From the speed with which she shut the volume, Cassian knew she’d been reading one of the romances she, Emerie, and Gwyn traded amongst them.
Cassian found himself tensing as Helion stepped into the room, and Nesta rose. She’d worn a dark blue dress today—the first time in a month he’d seen her in one. No longer did it hang off her. She’d packed on enough weight that the bodice was again formfitting, and those lush breasts swelled gracefully above the scooped neckline.
Helion offered a bow of his head, the epitome of courtly grace. “Lady Nesta.”
Nesta bobbed a curtsy, but her eyes cut to Feyre. “Lady?”
Feyre shrugged. “He’s being polite.”
Nesta slid her eyes to Cassian’s. “Now I understand why you find the title grating.”
He smiled, and Helion blinked—as if shocked she’d forgotten a High Lord stood before her.
But Nesta had blown past Helion the first time they’d met, too, utterly unimpressed.
Cassian said to her, “It never gets easier.”
Nesta faced Helion again, taking in that spiked golden crown and the draped white robe. “Was that your winged horse that flew over earlier?”
Helion’s smile was a thing of cultivated beauty. “He is my finest stallion.”
“He’s lovely.”
“As are you.”
Nesta angled her head as Cassian found himself near-breathless, waiting for her reply. Feyre and Rhys seemed to be trying not to laugh, and Azriel was the portrait of cool boredom.
Nesta surveyed Helion for long enough that he shifted on his feet. A High Lord shifted on his feet under her gaze. She said at last, “I appreciate the compliment,” and that was that.
That pause while she’d surveyed Helion had been a courtier’s pause. Assessing how best to strike.
Helion frowned slightly.
Rhys cleared his throat, amusement glittering in his eyes. “Well, there it is.” He pointed to the black velvet mound on the table. “Nesta?”
She pulled away the cloth. Ancient, beaten gold gleamed, and Helion hissed as a cold, strange power filled the room, whispering like a chill breeze.
Helion whirled to Nesta, all sensuality vanished. “You truly wore this and lived?” It wasn’t a question meant to be answered. “Cover it again, please. I can’t stand it.”
Rhys tucked in his wings. “It affects you that much?”
“Doesn’t it rake its cold claws down your senses?” Helion asked.
“Not as much as all that,” Feyre said. “We can sense its power, but it didn’t bother any of us so seriously.”
Helion shuddered, and Nesta threw the cloth over the Mask. As if the cloth somehow blinded it to their presence. “Perhaps an ancestor of mine once used it, and the warning of its cost is imprinted upon my blood.” Helion shook out a breath. “All right, not-Lady Nesta. Allow me to show you some warding tricks even clever Rhysand doesn’t know.”
In the end, Helion created the wards and keyed them to Nesta’s blood. A pinprick of it, courtesy of Truth-Teller, had done the job, and Cassian had found himself tensing at the sight of that little bead of red. Its scent.
It was an effort of will to tell his body there was no threat, that the blood was willing, that she was fine. But it didn’t stop him from grinding his teeth loudly enough that Feyre whispered to him beneath Nesta and Helion’s conversation, “What’s wrong with you?”
Cassian muttered back, “Nothing. Stop being such a busybody, Cursebreaker.”
Feyre shot him a sidelong glance. “You’re acting like a caged animal.” Her lips curved upward. “Are you jealous?”
Cassian kept his voice neutral. “Of Helion?”
“I don’t see anyone else in this room who’s currently holding my sister’s hand and smiling at her.”
The bastard was indeed doing that, though Nesta remained stone-faced. “Why would I be jealous?”
Feyre’s laugh was a rustle of air.
Cassian couldn’t stop his answering grin, earning a confused glance from Azriel. Cassian shook his head, just as Nesta pulled her hand from Helion’s grip and asked, “So it’s done?”
“Once we leave this room, no one shall be able to enter it. Even you, if you do not unlock my wards, cannot enter.”
Nesta loosed a little sigh. “Good.”
“I’ll show you the unlocking spell,” Helion said, but she stepped away from him.