Mor Books

“Eris's amber eyes studied hers. 'Trust Rhysand to keep you hidden away.'

Right. She was to flatter him, keep him on their side. 'I just saw you the other week.'

Eris chuckled. 'And as riveting as it was to see you send Tamlin scrambling off with his tail between his legs, I didn't see this side of you. The time since the war has changed you.'

She didn't smile, but she met his stare directly as she said, 'For the better, I hope.'

'Certainly for the more interesting. It seems you came to play the game tonight after all,' Eris spun her, and when she returned to him, he murmured in her ear, 'Don't believe the lies they tell you about me.'

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, 'Oh?'

Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, his face neutral and aloof. 'She knows the truth but has never revealed it.'

'Why?'

'Because she is afraid of it.'

'You don't win yourself any favours with your behaviour.'

'Don't I? Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?' He spun her again. 'They believe a version of events that is easier to swallow. I always thought Rhysand wiser than that, but he tends to be blind where those he loves are concerned.'

Nesta's mouth twitched to one side. 'And you? Who do you love?'

His smile sharpened. 'Are you inquiring about my eligibility?'

'I'm merely saying it's hard to find a good dance partner these days.'

Eris laughed, the sound like silk over her skin. She shivered. 'Indeed it is. Especially one who can both dance and tear the King of Hybern's head from his shoulders.'

She let him see a bit of that person- see the savage rage and silver fire he'd witnessed before Tamlin. Then she blinked and it was gone. Eris's face tightened, and not from fear.

He twirled her again, the waltz already coming to a close. He whispered in her ear, 'They say your sister Elain is the beauty, but you outshine her tonight.' His hand stroked down the bare skin of her back, and she arched slightly into his touch.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames