Tears burned just before pain seared through your left arm. I would never beat the third task. I would never free Tamlin or his people.

The pain shot through your bones again, and through your increasing hysteria, you heard words inside your head that stopped you short.

Don't let her see you cry. Put your hands at your sides and stand up.

You couldn't. You couldn't move.

Stand. Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you break.

your knees and spine, not entirely of your own will, forced you upright, and when the ground at last stopped moving, you looked at A marantha with tearless eyes.

Good, Rhysand told you. Stare her down. No tears— wait until you're back in your cell.

Amarantha's face was drawn and white, her black eyes like onyx as she beheld you. you had won, but you should be dead. you should be squashed, your blood oozing everywhere.

Count to ten. Don't look at Tamlin. Just stare at her.

You obeyed. It was the only thing that kept you from giving in to the sobs trapped within your chest, thundering to get out.

you willed yourself to meet Amarantha's gaze. It was cold and vast and full of ancient malice, but you held it. you counted to ten.

Good girl/boy. Now walk away. Turn on your heel-good. Walk toward the door. Keep your chin high. Let the crowd part. One step after another.

you listened to him, let him keep you tethered to sanity as you were escorted back to your cell by the guards— who still kept their distance. Rhysand's words echoed through your mind, holding you together.

But when your cell door closed, he went silent, and you dropped to the floor and wept.