Chapter 10

"I heard you are going to the Spring Court to look at Tamlin's horses?" Feyre said as she set down another plate of Elain's baked cookies. I reached for one and took a bite, smiling as the taste of shortbread and an oozing of jam filled my mouth.    "Yes!" I said, shoving the rest of the cookie in my mouth, and reaching for another.    "Are they that good?" Feyre droned, watching me, unsmiling. I knew she hated Tamlin, had never forgiven him—I didn't know if I would forgive him either, if I were her.    "They are. Would you like one?" I pushed the plate toward her, and stood, going to open a window in anticipation of the birds I would hear and the sweet smell of spring that would greet me soon. Spring had always been my favourite of seasons, and despite the memories, I had begun to crave it—intolerably so. I should have been terrified of Tamlin, but he was the first comfort after the incident, and nothing matched it since. I felt crazy with the way I clung to the memory of him, but I needed a refuge, and the Night Court was not all I had expected.    Feyre shook her head, unsmiling, and watched as I turned from the window.    "Tamlin never let me ride a horse with him. I was only allowed to ride around the grounds, with his soldiers."    I blanched at the mention of Tamlin's force. "Were his soldiers always terrible?"    Feyre shook her head, before her eyes flickered away, darkenning. "They were great, good males. Only some of them are questionable now, because his force is only recently ten years old."    I swallowed, blinking back at her. "Why such a young force for someone so old?"    Feyre's gaze cut to mine, and it was sharp. "Because a long time ago, before the battle of Hybern, I needed revenge. I wouldn't have done what I had if it was just for revenge of what he did to me—but he also let that Priestess control him, and they helped turn my sisters in to the King of Hybern, and he watched as they turned them, against their will, into Fae."    I swallowed. "Why?"    "I don't know why. I don't know why Tamlin did any of what he had. He's always stood back—he's always been a coward. So I tore apart his court from the inside," She snatched a cookie, averting her eyes and stuffing the treat in her mouth.    "And why does he still talk to Rhysand?"    "Because Rhys took pity on him, after the war. Tamlin brought Rhys back to me... it was the only act of love I can remember from him. And Tamlin was left destroyed. You should have seen the state of his palace and his court. It was in shambles. Rhys has been helping him, teaching him, and telling me Tamlin is getting better," She swallowed, and met my gaze with ferocity. "But you should be careful of him. Stay far away. Because he's never proven that he's any different now. There hasn't been another Amarantha for him to sit next to; there hasn't been another choice laid before him, to fight against such cruelty, or to watch it happen. There hasn't been another chance for him to betray his former lovers' sisters, and watch as they were turned Fae. There hasn't been another lover of his he's been able to lock up and abuse when she makes him angry. Rhys thinks Tamlin's had enough time, twenty-four years under their weird sort-of friendship, but I haven't been able to see it. I don't trust him, and I don't think you should either."    I swallowed, and slowly, shut the window behind me as another gust of chilling air rushed in.    "Where am I to go, Feyre? I don't belong here."    Feyre blinked, and glanced at my hand on the windowsill.    "We can bring horses here for you—"    I shook my head. "I know I don't belong here. I feel out of place. I'm not... I'm not happy."    "Maybe if you left your house and came downtown, to the artisans quarter—"    "I don't like cities. I hate them. I'm anxious and miserable and..." My voice faded and I glanced down from her gaze, now boring into me.    Feyre chewed on her lip, taking a step closer. "Hybern has taken over Graysen's fort, Ellaena," She said deeply, calmly, and my nostrils flared.    "I don't exactly want to go back there, either, though it is the only place I belong to," I blinked away the tears.    Where had Ma gone all those years ago? If I knew, I would leave to be with her. I'd be there now; I was certain she was my place.    "Are you infatuated with him?"    I blinked, my stomach dropping to the floor like a leaded stone, the hairs rising on the back of my neck. "What?"    "Tamlin? Are you infatuated, thinking you're in love, irresistibly attracted to him?"    "I don't even know him! All I know is of the terrible things he's done!"    "But you've seen him, how gorgeous of a male he is. He's probably the first good-looking male you've ever seen, so I have no doubt you'd be scrambling to get your claws into his clothes—"    "Feyre—"    "It's Lady, Ellaena. That is what you call your High Lady," She snapped, blinking hard.    I set my jaw. "Okay," I let my voice flow gently, like a melody on a warm, summer's breeze. "Lady. But you're not my High Lady. This is not my home, as much as I wish it could be—"    "Then leave. Scramble for him. Don't come crying to me again if you find yourself domestically abused," With that, she whirled, and I blinked after her, astounded.    Infatuated?    All I could think of was the scent of horses, and of hay. The look of sorrow ever etched into the muscles of his face; over his brows, around the corners of his pink, perfect lips—    I could not be infatuated with him. He was perfect. He was gorgeous, and everything a woman dreamed of, except that he was known to be terrible, cruel, unthinking, broken, unloved, lonely.    And he happened to be the High Lord of my rapist. The one who tore me further, who taught me real pain. He wanted me to see the sentry, to decide his fate though I never wanted to see him again. I never wanted anything again.    No one.    I had no one.    I thought I had Feyre, but... she was gone.    I had hope for the Night Court and the Fae here, but of course, it was now being taken from me. I should've learnt by now to never have hoped again—it only left room for future disappointment.    As long as I had Tamlin in my mind, I could never be her friend. I wondered how she even got along with Rhys, her mate, since he was pitying Tamlin by helping him and teaching him whatever there was to be taught.    I slumped in the chair, and once again, forgot about the food now drying in the chilled air. I stared out the windows at the greying sky. Snow was coming soon.