Rhys halted in the middle of the orchard, located to the north of Tamlin’s once-lovely estate.
The afternoon sun warmed Cassian’s head, and if his entire body weren’t itching so damned much, he might have lain on the velvety grass and sunned his wings. “I’d peel my skin off right now, if it’d stop the itching.”
“There’s a sight I’d like to see,” a voice said behind them, and Cassian didn’t bother to look pleasant as they found Eris standing at the base of a tree five feet away. Amid the pink and white blossoms, the cold-faced Autumn Court heir looked truly faerie—as if he’d stepped out of the tree, and his one and only master was the earth itself.
“Eris,” Rhys purred, sliding his hands into his pockets. “A pleasure.”
Eris nodded at Rhys, red hair dappled in the sunlight leaking through the blossom-heavy branches. “I only have a few minutes.”
“You asked for this meeting,” Cassian said, crossing his arms. “So out with it.”
Eris shot him a look laced with distaste. “I’m sure you’ve reported my offer to Rhysand.”
“He did,” Rhys said, dark hair ruffled by a soft, sighing breeze. As if even the wind itself loved to touch him. “I didn’t appreciate the threats.”
Eris shrugged. “I merely wanted to make myself clear.”
“Spit it out, Eris,” Cassian said. One more minute here, and the itching would drive him mad.
He wished anyone else could have come in his stead. But he’d been appointed by Rhys to deal with the bastard. General to general. Eris had asked for the meeting this morning, naming this location as neutral ground. Thankfully, its lord had no interest in patrolling who entered these lands.
Eris kept his eyes on Rhys. “I assume your shadowsinger is off doing what he does best.”
Rhys said nothing, revealed nothing. Cassian followed his lead.
Eris went on with a shrug, “We are wasting our time, gathering information rather than acting.” His amber eyes gleamed in the shade of the apple tree. “Regardless of the death-lord pulling their strings, if the human queens intend to be a thorn in our sides, we could simply deal with them now. All of them. My father would be forced to abandon his plans. And I’m sure you could invent some reason that has nothing to do with me or what I’ve told you to excuse their … removal.”
Cassian blurted, “You want us to take out the queens?”
It was Eris’s turn to say nothing.
Rhys, too, remained silent.
Cassian threw them an incredulous look. “We kill those queens and we’ll be in a greater mess than ever. Wars have been started for less. Killing even one queen, let alone four, would be a catastrophe. Everyone would know who’d done it, regardless of the reasons we’d invent to justify it.”
Rhys angled his head. “Only if we’re sloppy.”
“You’re kidding,” Cassian said to his brother.
“Half-kidding,” Rhys said, throwing him a dry smile. It didn’t quite meet his eyes, though. A grave distance lurked there. But Rhys turned to Eris. “Tempting as it may be to take the easy way out, I agree with my brother. It’s a simple solution to our current problems, and to thwarting your father, but it would create a conflict far greater than any we’re anticipating.” Rhys surveyed Eris. “You know that already.”
Eris still said nothing.
Cassian glanced between them, watching Rhys piece it together.
Rhys asked solemnly, “Why does your father want to start a war so badly?”
“Why does anyone go to war?” Eris reached out a long, slender hand, letting the falling petals gather there. “Why does Vallahan not sign the treaty? The borders of this new world have not yet been set.”
“Beron doesn’t have the military strength to control the Autumn Court and a territory on the continent,” Cassian countered.
Eris’s fingers closed around the petals. “Who says he wants land on the continent?” He surveyed the orchard—as if to make a point.
Silence fell.
Rhys murmured, “Beron knows another war that pits Fae against Fae would be catastrophic. Many of us would be wiped out entirely. Especially …” Rhys tilted his head back to take in the apple blossoms. “Especially those of us who are weakened. And when the dust settles, there would be at least one court left vacant, its lands bare for the taking.”
Eris looked toward the hills beyond the orchard, green and gold and glowing in the sunlight. “They say a beast prowls these lands now. A beast with keen green eyes and golden fur. Some people think the beast has forgotten his other shape, so long has he spent in his monstrous form. And though he roams these lands, he does not see or care for the neglect he passes, the lawlessness, the vulnerability. Even his manor has fallen into disrepair, half-eaten by thorns, though rumors fly that he himself destroyed it.”