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“I’m not arguing against that.” Nesta rose to her feet with a warrior’s grace and surety. “And you have every right to reject the mating bond—I will support that choice with my last fucking breath if I have to, Elain. But I’m talking about common decency. You are technically still mated to that male, and he treats you with the respect that mates give each other, and you . . .” Nesta shook her head slowly. Disgust limned her face, suffused every word as she finished, “The Elain I know and love wouldn’t have done something like that.”

Another dull laugh. “The Elain you know and love died in the Cauldron.” I’d never heard Elain speak like this, never seen her features so contorted with anger. “The Elain you know and love has been miserable these past few years, alone and forgotten, barely more than a secondary thought to all of you while you go off on your adventures and fall in love with your mates.”

“You want to go on adventures?” Nesta challenged, unfazed. “Fine. There’s the door. There’s a whole world of creatures out there who’d love a shot at killing you. In fact, here.” She snapped her fingers.

I startled as Ataraxia, then another blade clattered to the floor. They thrummed with magic—big, terrifying magic that only my eldest sister could have imbued them with.

“Take your pick,” Nesta dared. “Might as well go out there armed.”

Elain recoiled from the blades, step after step until her back was to the door, hissing at Nesta, “Put those away.”

Nesta did no such thing. Instead, a jerk of her chin, and—

Another sword thumped onto the carpet. Gwydion.

The black blade absorbed the morning light, and the others seemed to shiver in response.

Rhys must have given them to her. Why?

No matter the reason, it certainly hadn’t been for her to use them as a cudgel against Elain.

“You want a big adventure?” Nesta pointed to Gwydion. “Take that one out into the wilds. We haven’t had a chance to try it yet. Make yourself useful. We have plenty of enemies we’d be glad to get rid of.”

“That is not what I’m saying,” Elain said, pressing herself to the door so hard it was a wonder the wood wasn’t breaking. “I am talking about the fact that you all seem perfectly content to let me just watch the baby or garden or bake or plan your parties. I’m talking about the fact that those are the only things you want from me, and you never ask me to do anything more—”

“What does this have to do with you fucking Azriel?” Nesta snapped.

“Nesta,” I protested. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t entirely explain why.

Rhys said into my mind, Everything all right?

I knew if I asked, he’d arrive in a moment. He’d probably already handed Nyx to Ana, sensing my tension.

Just sisters having it out, I sent back.

I knew Rhys would likely remain in the nursery until this conversation was over, for the same reason I’d run there last night.

Elain had never demonstrated any power beyond her Seer’s abilities, but she, too, had gone into the Cauldron. Had been given . . . gifts. We’d never pushed her far enough to see what might emerge. As far as I knew, she hadn’t pushed herself to find out, either.

“What this has to do with my fucking Azriel,” Elain said, spitting out the word, “which I did not do—”

“Looked like you were well on your way,” Nesta cut in.

Elain’s eyes welled with tears. “What do you want from me?” She splayed her arms. “I had a future before all this. I had a man that I loved—”

“Graysen didn’t deserve you.”

“That isn’t your judgment to make,” Elain shot back, slamming a fist against the door behind her, then laying that hand on her heaving chest. “I loved him, and he loved me—”

“That wasn’t love, not even close,” Nesta barreled on. “Not if your body changing from human to Fae could alter his feelings. Love doesn’t crumble like that.”

“No, it just crumbles when you betray your court and mate by handing over the Mask to a stranger,” Elain retorted.

I didn’t know whether to wince for Nesta or applaud Elain for getting in a blow. Even if it was a low one.

Power brewed in Nesta, a building storm that set the hair on my arms tingling. My own surged to meet it, intercept it—if hers came out as silver flames, then I’d smother it with ice straight from the heart of the Winter Court. But Nesta just said to Elain, “Cassian and I have moved past that.”

Elain shook her head. Not at Nesta’s words, but at herself. “I’m not supposed to be here,” she said despondently, tracing the small dent she’d made in the heavy, carved wood of the study door. Unaware of the strength of her Fae body, even now. “I thought I’d found my place, thought I had a future with Azriel, but . . .” She bleakly surveyed me and Nesta. “Look at you two—it’s like you were never human. Never lived below the wall.”