I am a general for Cauldron's sake. And here my uncle dearest thought it would be a good idea to send me here to do his dirty work to Spring Court out of all places. The whole dynamic on the dinner table is wrong. Feyre, supposedly, dear Tamlin's ex is back with him from the 'goodness' of her heart. I bite back a scoff at the foolishness. Love, indeed makes people a fool that's why I have no space for it in my life and looking at Tamlin now only makes my beliefs more adamant. My sister, Brannagh, is batting her lashes at the bastard of Autumn court. Anyone would be able to tell he isn't cut out from the same cloth as Beron. While I refuse to give into Ianthe's constant suggestive remarks, I try to turn my attention to something better. I want to see whether these allies are as cooperative as they seem. But when I try to get into their heads, I can't. My eyes narrow to find the source that had diverted my power. And then I see her. Sitting across from me. She had somehow managed to raise everyone's mental shields against my magic so I won't be able to pry in. Smirking as she raised her wine glass at me and took a sip. The tempting little vixen. Tamlin's advisor and a new hindrance in my way.

But that doesn't stop the smirk gracing my lips too. Touché.

"I didn't quite catch your name." I try to keep my voice as neutral as possible.