In the days after the second trial, Feyre sinks into numb despair. Convinced the third task will kill her and seeing no solution to Amarantha’s riddle, she clings to the oblivion of Rhysand’s nightly wine. Thoughts of Tamlin and her brief human lifespan deepen her hopelessness.

While being escorted by Rhysand’s two shadow-veiled handmaidens, they sense danger and hide Feyre behind a conjured tapestry of darkness. From there, Feyre overhears the Attor and a guttural-voiced companion. They discuss preparations that will please Amarantha, whether the High Lords will yield, and—most alarming—the King of Hybern’s displeasure with Amarantha and his ability to strip her power. The emissary claims immunity and hints the king’s renewed push for war against the mortal realm. The handmaidens call it “trouble” and intend to inform Rhysand, but Feyre can do nothing from her prison.

Days pass. In her cell, a faint, exquisite music drifts through a vent. The melody conjures vivid colors and visions that lift Feyre from the darkness, filling her with a fierce blend of joy and sorrow. The music evokes Tamlin—his touch, voice, and the future she fights for—until she weeps, realizing she still longs to save what she loves.

When the music fades, Feyre lies raw but steadier, her memories newly bound by the lingering notes. With her resolve rekindled, she marks the time: two days remain until the final trial and whatever fate the Cauldron holds for her.