Nikolai turned his head in time to watch the human - no, the high fae, stalk past him and towards the throne with an air of icy authority. December Fairchild. He had never met the Made before but had heard of her name through his father and then through Lilith after befriending one another. She distracted the King of Hybern long enough for the High Lords to retaliate and save her life after she was attacked. Vesper had told him the story in clarity the day Nikolai winnowed to his father following the sabotaged meeting the second he got word.
“I’m aware of such history. It is why I wonder whomever did this must have done it to make the humans angry on purpose. Such pettiness in perhaps one of the most important meetings of… Life? He pondered for a second when was the last time a meeting of this such was held, going as far back as reaching for the lessons his tutors taught him as a young boy. “Seeing as how it is just you and I in this room, perhaps I wouldn’t tell a soul and nothing could happen. Or perhaps I could wave a hand and alert the High Lords. If you choose to sit in any, however, I do recommend the Autumn Court’s. The look on his face would leave me content for centuries to come.”
A pawn? Of course. It was a test. In the grand scheme of things, the situation under the mountain was a test. Which Court was whispering rumors of siding with Hybern, which High Priestess was on Pyrthian’s side or the enemies, even the people within their own courts seemed to not be trusted for precautions. It was trying times and with everything December endured, her suspicions sunk in. “Do you consider yourself a pawn?”
December pursed her lips. She held back what she truly wanted to say in regard to the fae treatment of humans. Afterall, she was no longer on the human side of the discussion. However, she did settle to say. “Because even if the fae and humans are allies. They still want to ensure that everyone knows the social class is in order. By that, of course, I mean they want to ensure the humans are at the bottom.” She crossed the room with an unearthly grace. Even as a human, December had been praised for her poise. It had only been exacerbated as a fae.
She took the steps up to approach the thrones. One of obsidian. It must belong to him. There were others, though. Each drew her attention. Seashells, gold, moonstone, vines, quartz, and birch. All were carved intricately. “Why do you not like Silas?” She mused quietly. The old Lord of the Night Court had been a difficult man. He’d pressed her for years with promises, bargains, gifts, and thinly veiled threats to join his court. He practically drooled at the idea of her power. December didn’t even know how to use them, nor did she particularly care to learn. What sort of High Lord would this one be? If he was anything like his father, this would not be a long conversation.
December turned and looked down at him. She studied his face for any ticks or tells- any small gesture that would reveal what he was truly thinking. After she’d learned that the fae were perfectly capable of lying, December trusted them even less. “I don’t even consider myself a piece on your board.”
