Pregnancy W/ Lucien?

pregnancy w/ lucien?

I was writing another one and SUDDENLY it became Lucien's story. Shocking isn't it? Anyway, maybe the idea was to go through the pregnancy, like, baby in the belly, but hey? Neither I (a young young lady in distress) nor my mother (a lovely mother of two) came up with cute scenarios of reader being pregnant, but we did think about baby being born (her with the memories of her children and me with the memories of my brother) hope you don't mind, anon!!! (Yes, i did give them the name of Hamilton's and Burr's babies, who cares? It needs to fit the song choice!

Dear Theodosia (and Philip)

Lucien was terrified, you could clearly see it in his eyes. His hands were fidgeting in his lap as he looked at you and the newborn bundle you carried in your arms. The healers were running around cleaning everything, from the water splashed on the ground to the blood covering a good part of the linen you were on, all while Madja finished washing your second baby. The little boy cried out loud everytime the water touched his body, something that didn't happen with the girl that was now being fed in your left breast.

You saw your mate's face, the tears that were hanging on the edge of his eyes. ou felt his nervousness as his hand was shaking while he held yours. You knew he was excited with your pregnancy, you saw and felt his happiness every time you caught his hand slipping into your belly to caress the baby - or babies - being formed under it. And yet, while he waited for his daughter to finish her meal so that he could take her, you also saw his fear.

You weren't mad. Obviously not. You know Lucien, know your mate, know the now father of your children. Since the beginning you knew he was terrified of being a father, when both of you agreed to try for babies (his own request, initially) you were prepared for this moment: the moment he realized everything was true. He was a father, he had a family, a loving mate and babies that would love him even more. Everything he was always prived of having.

You heard your mother's shouts outside the doors when one of the healers went out to tell the news. Soon her shouts were united with Helion's ones, and then your stepdad asking them to shut up and not disturb the rest of the patients, although you knew his own face would be covered in tears once he gets to enter your room.

When Madja took the girl out from you and handed the baby boy into your arms so he could eat too, you saw Lucien's face chante into one of nervousness. He let go of your hand so he could take the girl with more security, Madja being trained in all those years in taking babies here and there.

- I don't know how to do this - He said when tried to take the baby from the healer's arms, hearing her squirm when taken out of the comfortable position she was in.

- No parent does in the beginning, young boy, you can take your time - She said and took his arms to place them around the newborn's body. You noticed the exact moment when his eyes shifted to the most soft look he ever wore in his life. You watched as his eyes took in every part of her, her small arms, her big eyes, her tiny hands. And he saw her cries stop little by little as she smelled her fathers scent, Lucien smiled so big you could fill your own eyes tearing with emotion.

- Hi Theodosia, nice to meet you - He whispered into her head, as he bent down to kiss her forehead - I'm your dad - He said and she wiggled her hands as if trying to take a strand of his hair, as orange as his own - But I think you already know that, don't you little girl?

- Miss, both families want to come in, can I let them? - Madja asked you, your eyes never leaving the interaction happening between you mate and your daughter.

- Not yet, give us some more minutes. Lucien will call when we are ready - She only gave a small smile and looked at your little family too - You are lucky. Take care of them.

- I will - She gave you a fast kiss in the head and a caress in your son's cheek, smiling again.

- I know.

- Wanna hold your boy? - You asked Lucien and saw face red in tears, his smile reaching the sides of his face.

- She has your eyes - He said while exchanging babies with you, careful to not hurt any of his loves.

- And Philip has yours - He looked at his son and realized that, yes, indeed, the boy's eyes were the exact same shade as his eyes used to be when he was young - Are you happy, my love?

- What do you think? - He laughed at you, for you, and you couldn't help but giggle a little bit too - I'm surprised any of our parents ran into the room yet.

- I made Cassian promise to hold them in place and guard the door until we are ready to receive them - His laugh echoed again, stronger now. Both of your babies searching for the sound their father made.

- I think they love me - He said, caressing his boy's face.

- They got it from their mother - You smiled at him, seeing his skin start to glow as the fear started to completely fade inside of him, leaving space only for the joy he felt.

- And what a mother they have - You shyly smiled at him, years went by and you still had to grow accustomed to his flirts.

- Sunny boy, happy girl, are you both done? I have a mad grandmother and a crazy grandfather trying to climb on me to get to the door - Cassian screams from the corridor, curses and tantrums being thrown at him - I'm afraid that Helion will curse me, he's searching for his book, can you give a green signal, please?

- Let's end Cassian's suffering and let them in - You laugh at your mate's sad face.

- He is a big, scary general, I think he can handle a small curse from my father - You laughed even harder, now hearing even Rhysand trying to command his general out of the way, as excited as your parents to see the babies.

- Lucien! - You scolded him as he rolled his eyes and got up from the chair.

- Dear Theodosia, dear Philip, prepare yourselves to meet the mess your family is - He said out loud, obviously trying to make everyone outside hear him.

Pride wasn't enough of a word to describe how you felt in that moment, with everything you ever wished to have right in front of you, you realized how much of a lucky person you really were.

Ladies and gentlemen, I got an 8,5 oh yes the politics genius right here!!!! If my baby boy #rhysand wants to make me his high lady he better know I can easily RULE Prythian if he asks me to 😎😎😎

I swear politics it's my thing and if i don't get at least an 8 on the exam tomorrow I will jump myself out of a building (a chair)

Ooooh for the Bingo, fluffy and angsty Forbidden Love with Eris??? 🥰🙏🏻🔥

HIHIHIHIHI

Never thought I would be so excited to write for Eris oh my

THIS IS GOOOOOOOOOOD

I'm just so excited for this one, it's one of the biggest until now 💢💥✨️

I don't know if it's angsty enough, it probably isn't but I can't do better than that right now sorry 😀

Let me have you guys know that I love the IC and I don't hate them, okay? It's just for the character (although I don't agree with some of their attitudes, but hey criticize any type of politics is kind of my job so meh)

The Night We Met

Almost one year before

The Hewn City bustled with activity as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the mountain, the few windows letting the sun pass to the cobblestones of the city carved inside the terrain. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the preparation for the monthly party, you were weaving your way through the crowds, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You were determined to escape the clutches of your overbearing sister and cousin, who were determined to whisk you away to Velaris, the vibrant city where they resided.

You loved your family, every tiny bit of them, but you hated the way they tried to make you hate your birthplace. The Court of Nightmares only had the reputation and, even if some of the stories were true and the cruelty indeed reigned inside of its walls, you firmly believed it was a necessary action to take against the rest of the cruel world outside. Even Rhys had to agree if he so desperately sought the help of his fellow citizens. You were a dreamer that wanted to live between the nightmares.

Breathless and desperate, you found yourself seeking solace in a secluded corner of an elegant garden. One of the few that were built closer to the top of the mountain, a simple spell and glass covered every part of it, making visible the night outside. The beauty of your home could never be replaced by the so-called "Court of Dreams". Tears glistened in your eyes as you let your emotions overwhelm you. It was at this very moment that you encountered a figure you never expected to see in real life – Eris, the prince of the Autumn Court.

Eris was notorious in your family for a past failed engagement with your older sister, Morrigan. The tension between him and your cousin, Rhysand, was palpable. You should be running away by now, knowing that Rhys and his mate, Feyre, prohibited you from participating in the parties Eris was involved in. Yet, as you locked eyes, you noticed a gentleness and concern that shattered your preconceived notions.

- Are you alright? You seem distressed - he inquired, his eyes filled with genuine worry. Eris approached you cautiously, his voice carrying a soothing tone.

- Yes, thank you. I was just trying to run away from my family - You pushed a strain of hair behind your ear, the blond locks always too alike to your sister's hair.

- I might know a little bit about that too, want company? - He asked slowly, not taking any step closer to you. If he had any idea of who you were he didn't show it.

- I might want, yes - You motioned for him to sit at your side in one of the many benches around the garden.

A surge of emotions overwhelmed you as you found yourself pouring your heart out to Eris. You both talked and laughed, sharing stories and dreams as the moon rose high in the sky. To say the least, you were amazed by how comfortable you felt in Eris' presence, your connection deepening with every passing moment.

Present days

A year had passed since that fateful encounter in the garden. You and Eris had spent countless hours together, growing closer with each passing day. Your love for each other blossomed, defying the animosity that surrounded you. One evening, you strolled hand in hand through a meadow in the Autumn Court, the same place where you usually met each other to not raise any suspicion in your court. Eris paused and turned to face you, taking in the green dress you were wearing. His eyes held a mixture of adoration and nervousness.

- I cannot bear to be without you any longer, my days are consumed by the thought of you, and my dreams are filled with your presence. I love you during my waking hours and imagine you during my slumber ones. Will you marry me? - He asked, his voice filled with hope. Overwhelmed with joy, you nodded vigorously.

-Yes, Eris! I will marry you - You replied, voice brimming with excitement. You threw yourself into his arms, kissing him with every emotion you held in your body. Happiness overlaps joy as he spins you around, creating that bubble you both always felt when you were together.

The first challenge was Eris' father. Knowing damn well your father would be confused but happier than ever for finally getting the hold of the Autumn he always dreamed about. On the other hand, High Lord Beron was a complete mystery. The grand halls of the Autumn Court's palace were adorned with lavish decorations, befitting the grandeur of the occasion. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Eris, accompanied by you on his right side, made his way towards the throne room where Beron, the High Lord, awaited.

As you approached the entrance, Eris squeezed your hand, offering reassurance and support. You offered the same, your knowledge of his personal life and the terror his father caused him during his childhood made you as nervous for him as you were for yourself. You exchanged a brief, loving glance, drawing strength from your connection before stepping into the throne room.

The room was bathed in warm, golden light, emanating from the ornate chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. At the end of the room, seated upon a magnificent throne adorned with autumnal motifs, sat Beron, his regal presence commanding attention. His eyes, stern and piercing, hardened upon seeing his son and you. He took in your blond hair, noticing all the similarities between you and your sister.

- Eris, my son - Beron called out, his voice echoing through the hall - Approach, both of you.

Eris led you forward, your steps purposeful yet tinged with nervous anticipation. You stood before Beron, your hands still intertwined, a symbol of unwavering commitment to one another. Beron's gaze shifted between Eris and you, his expression thoughtful as he studied your position at his son's side. The silence stretched, creating a palpable tension that seemed to hang in the air.

- Eris, son of mine, it is often that a request for marriage to my sons comes before me. What is uncommon is my son requesting a marriage. Especially you. Speak your intentions - Finally, Beron spoke, his voice steady and resonant. Eris straightened his posture, determination gleaming in his eyes.

- Father, I stand before you today, with the woman I chose to marry. She has brought vision into my life, a feeling to covet that surpasses any kind of feeling I ever sought. I wish to marry her, to join our powers and lives for eternity - You slowly nodded towards him - Also, to join the Autumn and the Night Court in a long-time union. As you wished from the beginning, Father - Beron's gaze shifted to you, his scrutiny weighing upon her.

- And what of you, young lady? Do you share these intentions? How do you offer a partnership to the Night?

- High Lord Beron, I plan to praise and obey your son with all my heart and I desire nothing more than to become his wife. I promise to honor and cherish him, to stand by his side through all challenges that may come - With a steady voice you responded, your eyes locked with Beron's - I am the second daughter of Keir, commander of the Hewn City and General of its army.

- You are Morrigan's sister? - He asked you slowly, seeing Eris let go of your hand to let you give a step closer to the throne, this moment being practiced between you and your mother a thousand times. You just nodded and waited - If she is the Truth Teller, how do they call you in your territory?

- Truth Unleasher, sir - The High Lord smiled, playing with one of the decorations in his seat.

- I believe that no one hid from you the story both of our families share, right? - His eyes hovering all over your figure made you shift uncomfortably in your spot - Do your sister and cousin know you are here?

- Sir, I would let you know that I'm very aware of Eris' past with my family, but I found myself in a hard position once we started talking and realized how good of a match we are since we seek the same objectives of power and wealth - The lies roll down your tongue, in truth, Eris told you the whole story he had with Morrigan and your power told you everything you needed to know about his sincerity. But Beron didn't need to know this part - Although my sister and the High Lord are my family and, right now, my sovereigns, they are not aware of my position, since none of them have I say in my marriage life. This is only a matter for me and my father to talk about. And, obviously, my husband and you, sir, if you grant us your blessing.

Beron leaned back in on his throne, his eyes glimmering with a mix of curiosity and contemplation as you bowed down to him.

- Love, as I have come to learn with those ridiculous rulers of Night, is a powerful force. It can mend what is broken and forge unbreakable bonds, that's what your adorable cousin likes to say, am I wrong? - You shook your head, earning a small hum from him - Eris, you have always been headstrong, and it seems you have found your match in this young woman - He paused, his gaze shifting to you once again - As for you, Truth Unleasher, you has earned the respect of my son, a feat not easily accomplished. Your resolve and devotion are commendable. I can tell you are far more polite and respectful than your failed attempt of a sister, she is definitely the worst wife this world has yet to face - He laughed a little, enjoying even more as you and Eris smiled too. Two (or three) could play this game if he wanted to. A flicker of a smile graced Beron's lips, barely perceptible - I grant my blessing for this union. May your love endure, and may your union bring strength and prosperity to both the Autumn Court and the Nightmare's family.

Relief and joy washed over Eris and you as Beron'sords echoed in the grand hall. You exchanged glances, eyes shining with a gratitude Beron couldn't see.

- Thank you, my High Lord - Eris expressed, his voice filled with a hint of genuine gratitude - Your blessing means the world to us - Beron nodded, a rare hint of warmth in his eyes.

- You may have my blessing, but remember, the path you tread will not be easy, shall you think of hiding it from your family for any longer, young girl - He showed his teeth in a shivering smile, delighting himself in the victory he sought during his whole life - When you both decide to tell Keir about the news, tell him to send me a letter and give a day and time for a family dinner, the first of many.

With those final words of pure command, Beron rose from his throne, signifying the conclusion of the audience. Eris and you bowed deeply and respectfully before the High Lord, hearts filled with hope and determination.

As you left the throne room hand in hand, the weight of Beron's blessing enveloped you, empowering your love and fortifying your resolve. Your happiness was soon put to the test again when you approached your father's study, now seeking his blessing.

In the serene surroundings of a private study within your ancestral home, Keir sat at a polished wooden desk, his expression contemplative. He had received word that his beloved child had found love in the arms of Eris, the prince of the Autumn Court. His mind traveled back and forth with different scenarios of how the fire princeling may have met his second daughter, knowing of the rule prohibiting their encounter.

As the door to the study creaked open, Keir looked up to find his youngest entering, accompanied by Eris. The determination they held between them was evident in the way their eyes sought each other, even in the presence of the commander of the Nightmare Court.

- Father - you spoke before bowing down in respect to your parents, your voice filled with both nervousness and hope - May we speak with you?

Keir regarded his child and her chosen partner, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. He gestured for them to take a seat across from him, indicating that he was willing to hear them out. Eris spoke first, his voice sincere and earnest.

- Keir, I come before you today as a man who holds a deep respect for your daughter. Our paths have become entwined, and I wish to ask for your blessing to marry her - Keir leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between Eris and you. His features changed, revealing a complex mixture of emotions.

- Listen here, young prince, I know the history between our families has been tumultuous, my failed attempt to match you with my oldest daughter hunts me until these days. I'm curious how you found yourself in the position of asking for my other daughter's hand - For a second you feared your father could say no - But I also see the potential of getting the accord we wrote many centuries ago finally become reality. You didn't ask for her dote, didn't ask for anything at all. You came here only with the idea of prosperity and respect, and probably her submission to you. I don't have anything against it, I only hope you can keep it going for a better goal in your marriage - He turned his attention to you, your eyes meeting in a moment of unspoken understanding. You were doing this for your family too. Pride washed over him at your sacrifice - And you, my child. Your happiness and well-being were never my foremost concern, but if you believe that Eris is the one who can provide that happiness, I will not stand in your way, especially if it means many gains for our family.

- Father, Eris has shown me a future like no other. He sees me for who I truly am and accepts me without reservation. I have found a feeling that surpasses all boundaries. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life by his side - Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you spoke with conviction - I know Mor didn't bring you the results you may have wanted, but I want nothing more than your approval - Keir took a deep breath, his voice laced with both pride and a touch of fear.

- My child, your words resonate deeply within me. It is clear that you have found a match that knows no bounds. I give you my blessing, for I trust your judgment and desire only the best for our courts - A weight seemed to lift from the room as Keir's words sank in. You and Eris exchanged a glance filled with gratitude and joy, your hearts overflowing with unspoken love.

- Thank you, Father - You whispered, voice filled with genuine appreciation. - Your acceptance means the world to us - You repeated the same words Eris had said to his father. Keir nodded, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

- Remember, child, that marriage requires effort and sacrifice from you. Cherish what you have found, and may your union bring you endless gains and fulfillment.

With those final words, Keir rose from his seat, signifying the conclusion of their conversation. You and Eris stood, making your way to the door. As you left the study, hand in hand, you felt a sense of profound happiness. With Keir's support and blessing, your love had gained an added strength, solidifying your commitment and fueling your determination to build a future together.

However, your private conversation had not gone unnoticed. Your sister, Morrigan, and cousin, Rhysand, had overheard the discussion. Consumed by anger and a sense of entitlement, they confronted both you and Eris, determined to sabotage your happiness. Morrigan and Rhysand cornered you and Eris the second you stepped out of the room. Their faces twisted with anger and resentment. Rhysand lashed out, striking Eris with a blow intended to hurt both physically and emotionally.

- How dare you come to my Court again and try to steal one of my cousins again? - Rhys says, trapping Eris against the wall with his dark power, the light flickering around you as the air seems to grow thicker.

- Rhys! Stop, please! - You screamed against deaf ears, your cousin's furious state of mind.

- You couldn't have me and now you went for my sister?! What have you done to her? - Morrigan questions as she pulls you away from both of the males.

- I told you both to stop! - Overcome with fury you tapped into your hidden powers, holding your family members in place as you made your way to Eris, now thrown to the floor as Rhysand released him from his powers. Your voice trembled with righteous anger as you confronted your family - How dare you? My love and life are not yours to control! Eris has shown me kindness and understanding, unlike any of you. I will marry him, and no one will stand in our way! - Morrigan, taken aback by her sister's outburst, tried to reason with you.

- You're making a mistake. Eris cannot be trusted. You must think about your future and your family's reputation - She pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation - You can have a life in Velaris and find a decent male there - You snickered at her words. With tears streaming down your face you looked deep into Morrigan's eyes.

- You have always put your desires above mine, sister. Perhaps it's time you realize that my happiness matters too. Eris loves me, and I love him. That is all that matters - She started to deny it with her head, but you were done with her behavior - When will any of you understand I will never live in Velaris? I love my court and I learned to love Eris' too. Why can't you understand that I am capable of making decisions by myself?

- You just want our family's approval. This marriage is not what you truly want - She pleaded one more time, despair seemed to travel to her as Eris recovered each second.

- You don't even know what I want, you never cared to ask - She denied it many times but you knew the truth. Deep down, your sister always hoped for your outburst to take you away, but it never happened - What if our parent's approval is exactly what I want? Is that so bad?

- You'll be forever trapped in this life - Rhysand said slowly, trying to release himself from your powers - You won't get a chance to dream.

- What if that's my dream? What if everything I ever wanted was a big marriage with someone I love? What if I always dreamed of a house full of kids and me being the perfect lady by my husband's side? Is that so bad? Just because my dreams are different from yours does it mean they are invalid? - You shook your head in disbelief, knowing very well they would never accept this - Maybe one day you guys from the Court of Dreams will finally learn that we can dream from anywhere we want, not just from your pathetic city - In the end, Eris winnowed both of you back to the Autumn Court.

In the aftermath of the confrontation, you and Eris retreated to the safety of his palace, finding solace in each other's arms. Eris gently cradled your face in his hands, his eyes filled with tenderness. Your heart clenched as the hurtful words you said to your sister finally took in, a bit of regret finding your mind.

- You are my strength and my salvation, my true matching flame. We will face this together - You could only find the strength to nod, feeling a light kiss being left in your head as both of you tried to find a way to sleep and rest after the agitation.

Your love story would continue, with kisses that tasted of passion and embraces that melted your souls. In Eris, you had found a partner who loved you unconditionally, supporting you in your journey of self-discovery. In Eris' arms, you had found your true home, a place where your love would flourish, unaffected by the judgment of others. And as you basked in the warmth of your shared affection, you knew that your love story was just beginning.

So @lillithathecat who request this, the thing is, everything is getting out of hand omg kkkkkkkkk (Brazilian laugh, I don't know how to laugh in english)

I just have my box filled and now I'm getting nervous (not out of ideas tho, keep sendind) I think I'm gonna pick out one of each prompt and publish it because I'm getting a lot of repeated ones, after that I'll write all the others, is that good?

Good, see you next babies

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE RHYS??? Literally my favorite, could write for him forever, he is my first and last thought of the day SEND MORE REQUESTS FOR HIM PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭 I want to have a reason to write more

Mastermind

You. Were. Freaking. Out.

Damn it, none of it was in your plans, definitely. I mean, you planned your whole life, how could this not be in your plans? It was, actually, but NOT NOW. You had so many things to figure out in your life yet, you could not possibly be damn fucking pregnant.

Of course, you were, you actually noticed every single change in you since the first week, and have been going to Madja over and over again for the past two months, you know and have made sure you are expecting a baby. But the same amount of happiness you had in your heart you had nervousness.

It was not a bad thing, not at all, you couldn't be more happy to be expecting your first child, but oh gods, so soon? Not soon tho, you were past five hundred years, three hundred of them with your goddamned mate, also husband, also the father of the project of a baby you were carrying, also your High Lord. That last sentence being the reason for all of your worries.

Not just you were the High Lady as well, but the child in your womb was already fated to the weight of the crown in its non-yet-existent head, and it was heavy on you too. The idea of carrying and protecting and raising the future of the Night Court was terrifying.

You studied hard to be the best you could offer for your court, the one you were born and raised and so proud to live in. You planned everything, from top to toe you handed it all ready and verified and corrected and detailed for every single idea for a change or plan to solve problems. That's why you were so admired in every single piece of land in your court.

And yet, you couldn't figure out how to organize your thoughts and feelings to fit a baby into your life. You always knew the day was coming, that's precisely why you stopped taking your medicine. But you honestly thought it would take months or maybe even years to get pregnant, knowing very well how hard it is for a fae to make a baby. But with the number of times you and Rhysand got filthy with each other being impressive, it actually wasn't a surprise you got your one so fast.

But you couldn't stop the worries anyway.

You talked it through with Rhysand, you knew he wanted nothing more than a child, but what if you tell him and he doesn't want it now? What would you do?

The pile of papers and the amount of books in your study room kept staring at you, wondering where you were finally going to start working.

Damn, would you have to stop working for a while and focus only on the baby? Could you still train with Cass, go out with Mor, go jewelry hunting with Amren, and fly with Az? And after the birth, could you come back to your so well-detailed life or everything would have to involve the baby too?

The questions filled your head and flooded your senses to the point that you didn't even notice the door opening and your mate coming in to check on you and have your daily conversation over sweets and coffee of the afternoon. His smile quickly dropped as he took in your state of distress, leaving the tray of food on top of the table to get close to you. He gives you a small touch on your shoulder to make you notice him before he lifts your face to hold it in his hands as he looks at you.

-What happened? Something wrong? - His voice soothes you so much, even more after the pregnancy, feeling every cell in your body light up in happiness for having him there.

-Nothing wrong. I'm just thinking too much - He pulls you up, making you stand in front of him. His hands were still caressing your face as he started pecking your skin.

-You do that when you get a court-related problem and don't know how to solve it, then you get stressed for not getting an answer and get mad at yourself for not being "smart enough" to make everyone happy - He pecks your mouth lightly, his analysis making you chuckle since he was on point in every word - So, what do we have in hands? Who is upset in this court? I didn't receive anything.

-I mean, I got the news a few weeks ago and I've been trying to make sense of it for a while - He waited as you grabbed his hands and kissed them, touching him somehow always made you feel more secure about yourself - But no one is upset. I think everyone will be more than happy with the news. I just don't know how to react. How to tell you.

-Tell me? - Rhysand frowns slightly, pulling you to the nearest couch and making you sit on top of him, cuddling you as a way to make you feel safe to talk - You know that I would never say a bad thing to you, ever.

-I know. That's not what I'm worried about - You grab his hand and put it on top of your stomach, not any different from the other days, as the baby was still the size of a small grain. Yet, the act seemed enough for him to understand - I actually know you will be more than excited.

His face lights up in a fraction of a second, his eyes shining with a thousand stars, the stars you always praise when he looks at you. His arms circle you as his laugh fills in the room, kisses being left all over the skin he could reach. The happiness flew over the bond as you were also laughing, enjoying your mate's reaction. His thoughts and feelings were shooting themselves at you, his heart racing and filling with happiness while small tears ran down his face.

-Thank you so much, my love. Thank you - He murmured while rocking in you, face still hidden in your neck - Why were you worried? This is the best news you could ever give me - His face clearly demonstrated that, the happiest he ever seemed since the day you were officialized as High Lady in front of the Court members. He kisses you one more time, this time long and deep and sweet and loving. He loved you. Loved the kid you both would get to raise together.

-The timing… I don't know - You dried the tears on his face, pecking his cheeks as he simply took in your scent, finally finding the light scent of the baby growing inside you - I thought I would get more time to prepare myself? Like, make plans and stuff. I know we have eight months in front of us to deal with everything but still… I didn't exactly plan it through.

-You can't plan it. You never know if the seed takes root. It's hard for faes to conceive babies, you know this - He tries to state calmly, the euphoria affecting his senses making it hard for him to focus completely - You don't need to plan anything. There are moments in life that you simply have to live through.

-Well… Yeah, I think so - He pecks your face more times and you laugh, trying to brush off the uneasiness you felt by not being in control - I never experienced a situation like this, but I think we can manage.

-What do you mean, "never experienced"? Being High Lady of the Night Court was all in your plans? - He laughed and stopped right away, taking in your expression, almost as if he caught you committing a crime - You planned to be High Lady?!

-No! Not being High Lady itself… just… work with you, have a really high rank in politics, maybe be your advisor - He was shocked, his smile growing as he took in the information - I mean, that's what I spent my whole life studying for, you know? To work!

-But when I met you I thought-

-Thought I was just an artist trying to make money on Rita's while singing a lovely song about breaking rules, changing the world for the greater good, bringing peace with my group of freaky friends to the city, and living happily ever after in the world we created? Then Rita went to your table and told the Inner Circle they would get a free round of wine that day if one of you went up on the stage and sang a duet with me. Mor's heel was broken, Cassian couldn't even try because he spent the whole week screaming in the camps and Azriel still was too shy. So you went up on the stage because "what better than a fun challenge with a pretty girl that makes music about all of your dreams", right? We sang, and you gained a free round of wine and invited me to drink too, I accepted, said something about the changes they were doing in the Rainbow, I gave slight ideas as if I was just a normal citizen of Velaris that was trying to make my city a better place. Even if you were drunk you kept those ideas in your mind and passed them to your father. The next week, oh my, look who we found in your favorite coffee shop! Remember the one you went to every Wednesday after a reunion with your father? That one. You found me, we talked, and you asked me if I had more ideas. I said I did. You were flirting but were also curious. After three or four weeks I was basically your advisor. I didn't plan to fall in love with you, but it was a welcomed feeling since you were as sweet as people talked about. We kissed, the mating bond snapped, and we married. Bingo! I'm High Lady and everything went as I planned, like pieces of dominoes falling in order - Rhysand frowns slightly and realizes how everything you said matched perfectly with those first weeks you both met each other. His face turns to you with a shocked smile, his mind still processing all of the information - So yeah, never planned to be your mate, but definitely planned our encounter and everything after.

-How? - It was the only word he could process, his hand still caressing your sides.

-During my childhood kids never wanted to play with me for some stupid reason I don't even remember, but from then on I swore I would make everyone love me so I would never feel alone again, and would make it seem effortless. I talked with everyone in Velaris when I first moved in. I wanted to have a job with the current High Lord, but everyone seemed scared of him, yet they loved you. So I guess it would be easier if I made friends with you, right? Anyway, you already had your Inner Circle, and it was basically impossible to get in, so I reunited every information I could from you. Your preferences, your family, your friends, your habits, I even talked with some of the girls you fucked just to make sure, nowadays I understand why I always felt so jealous. Then I took music lessons after meeting Keir once and discovering that you loved the performances they had in the Court of Nightmares. Then, I studied Illyrian culture and made some friends, also some funny enemies during my oh-so-convenient trips to Illyria, they were the ones who made Cassian lose his voice, by the way. I never had to pretend though, I was actually really interested in all of this, even more in you after we started to talk. After securing my friendship with Rita I just had to put everything into action - You smiled a little bit, as if you just didn't break his whole world twice in a short span of time - So… how do we feel about this?

-About what? Your amazing planning and spying skills or the pregnancy?

-You are not mad at me? Or scared? - You let out the breath you didn't even notice you were holding. Hearing his laugh only assured you he was okay with this little piece of craziness you held inside of you.

-Darling, you are a mastermind. I know this since the first time I saw you manipulating Keir for days to make him accept one of our new rules - He brushes one strand of hair in front of you and looks you directly in the eyes - I never feared you because I always knew you would never do anything bad. You're just evil in the right situation, I think that's why I knew you would be the most perfect High Lady - He kissed your neck, slowly making his way up to your lips. His skin was hot as fire now, the air heating up too as he kissed you deep to show the devotion you fought so hard to get - It actually turns me on to know you manipulated me. How weird.

-Does my High Lord like it when I outsmart him, hm? - His breath hitch a little before he grips your hip and brings you closer than possible, your hands blindly trace his tattoos on top of the clothing, their shapes well known by your mind from the uncountable amount of time you spent decorating them in his bare skin.

-Surprisingly I do - His hand sneaks under your shirt, placing it directly on top of the place it would swell in a short time - Maybe we can call it a day and commemorate your mind and our future alone, in bed, maybe you can tell me about all the other plans you had while I lick every piece of skin you have.

-I already have a baby growing in me, you know? You don't need to try anymore - Your laugh is quickly replaced by a moan as his other hand travels to the inside of your trousers.

-Maybe we can rush and put another one - His mouth captures yours and he winnows you both to your shared room, your back against the soft mattress as his hand keeps its job.

-I'm pretty sure that's not how it works - His chuckle fills in the room, in a snap of his fingers all of your clothes disappear.

-And I'm pretty sure I just want to eat you out - He quickly dropped to his knees in front of you, his mouth making the travel it made thousands of times before.

Maybe you could finally let destiny make its way without a thought about it.

Garden of Twilight: Part One

Pairing: Rhys x female!Reader

Wordcount: ~10.3k

A/N: I honestly did not believe the first part of this series would be as well received as it has been, but I'm so grateful you all loved it enough to want me to write more. Clearly, I wanted to write more, I had to break this one up into two parts because these characters just wouldn't stop talking to me. I hope you love it as much as I do, I'm sure part two will be just as long, if not longer. And a huge thank you to @redbleedingrose for her constant reassurance that it is, in fact, very good. So if you won't take my word for it, take hers.

Series Masterlist

     The days flow like fine wine into the early weeks of the new year.

     Once word spreads that the newly returned, very eligible High Lord frequents my bookshop, my customer count triples nearly overnight. It seems like one day, I’m keeping up with the flow of customers relatively well, and the next I’m meeting a female Rhys brings into the shop, hoping she can at least keep up with the piles of books continuously stacked on my desk to be reshelved. She’s dressed in Night Court attire, but it’s certainly on the more modest end of the spectrum, and she eyes the blush scarf covering my head with interest the moment she sets her eyes on me.

     Rhys introduces her as Hanita and, though she doesn’t shake my hand, her smile is bright when I greet her. All around us, customers wander up and down the stairs and pick through the shelves, giving my typically quiet, lovely shop the appearance of a bustling beehive. I don’t know how much of this I’ll be able to stand, it’s easily three times the volume of my busiest day last year.

     “Do you have any work experience?” I ask brightly. Hanita tugs at the end of her thick, dark braid as her sharp, russet eyes dart between the levels, following each one up to the glass ceiling.

     “I helped my mother with her stall at the market,” the female says warily, “but it was nothing like this. I can read well enough though, I think I can figure out where everything goes.”

     “Honestly, I’m not used to anything like this myself,” I tell her, gesturing to the crowd forming around the front desk. “The job’s yours if you want it, Cauldron knows we need the help. The female behind the counter is a volunteer, her name’s Mira. Go see if you can help her manage the crowd and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

     Once she’s immersed in the crowd, Rhys takes the opportunity to close the gap between us. His hands remain tucked casually in the pockets of his jacket, as unassuming as ever, but there’s a small smile playing on his full lips as he watches the crowd. I cross my arms and resist the urge to lean into him, though the urge grows harder to fight by the day. I can’t understand how anyone can stand within his orbit and not feel the same pull…though I suppose they do, judging by the amount of females that have been flitting about my shop for a glimpse at him.

     “What’s her story?” I ask carefully, taking a deep, calming breath to quiet my fluttering heart. It’s beginning to get a little warm beneath my scarf, but I can’t necessarily risk removing it while we’re so busy. “Where is she from?”

     “Illyria. One of the smaller war camps- well, what was one of the smaller war camps. What’s left of it’s been absorbed into Windhaven now. Hanita didn’t want to go back and I wasn’t inclined to force her.”

     “She’s Illyrian?” Thoughts of Rhysand’s general come to mind, specifically the magnificent wings he and the shadowsinger bear. “Where-” The cold look on his face leaves me disinclined to finish that sentence. A sick, sinking feeling settles into the pit of my stomach as the realization hits me. “Oh.”

     “Even with my best healers tending to her, it’s taken a few months to get her up and walking again.”

     “I won’t mention it again.” I reassure him, raising a hand to my lips. “I’m sorry.”

     “There’s no way you would have known if I hadn’t mentioned it. She’s healed far better than we’d expected, and I think she’s happy to be able to work again.” His arm brushes against mine and I take another steadying breath. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my head when he’s this close to me. Any time the High Lord walks into the room, I momentarily forget that air is important, let alone remembering how to breathe. I thought it might get easier with time, but after my last vision, I feel like little more than a shy, fumbling child in his presence. “I’m finalizing the arrangements for her apartment today. Mor will be by later with the key and a copy of the lease agreement.”

     “Is it nearby?” I ask, running the tally in my head of how much a one bedroom apartment would cost, even on this side of the Sidra.

     “It’s only a few minutes north of here. Don’t worry about the cost, pay her whatever you can afford, the rest is taken care of.”

     “How…?” I ask, turning around to get a proper look at him. His face is neutral, but there’s a twinkle of mischief in his stunning violet eyes. “That’s incredibly kind, Rhys.”

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says lightly with a look at the clock. Not even he can hide the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, threatening to break the oh-so-professional High Lord mask he put on this morning, along with that black jacket. Surely his tailor has encouraged him to expand his color range beyond such a lonely color by now. “I’m sorry, I have a meeting I can’t miss. Will I see you later?”

     “If you want.” I shrug, turning back to the growing crowd around my front desk. “I better go sort out the horde before my help runs screaming. You know where to find me.”

     “I do.” His fingers catch the sleeve of my teal jacket. I turn back to see Rhys looking down at me, his brows knit in concern or consternation, I can’t decide which is more accurate. “I would like to have dinner with you tonight. If you’re free, of course.”

     I tilt my head as I study this fearsome High Lord, wanting to meet me for dinner if I’m not busy. What a strange companionship we’ve built over the last several weeks. My eyes flit to the fingers still holding onto my jacket and they immediately fall away, retreating to the safety of his jacket pocket. He hasn’t touched me much since the night he walked me home, in some ways that night feels like it was nothing more than a strange dream. I wear the gloves he’d given me as a reminder that it was not, in fact, all in my head, and we speak nearly every day. I wish I could decide what it is he keeps coming back for.

     The image of the back of my hand covered with that delicate, swirling tattoo flashes in my mind. What would he think if he knew of my vision? It feels wrong to keep it to myself, but I don’t know how to broach the topic. Or if I should. The future is ever-changing, after all, evolving with the whims of those who live it. I shouldn’t be so attached to that vision, but I can’t say the idea is unappealing. It doesn’t take a genius to see the High Lord is a good male who loves his territory.

     Any female would be lucky to have him.

     “It’s all right if you’re busy,” Rhys begins with a small smile and I quickly shake my head, my face heating as I realize precisely how long I’ve been staring at him.

     “No! No, sorry, I’m not busy. It’s…been a long morning,” I mumble, glancing back towards the crowd. “Sorry. Dinner would be lovely, High Lord-”

     “-Rhys-

     “-right, yes, sorry again. Rhys. I’d love dinner. I’m sorry, I should really be getting back-”

     “Go,” he says with a rich, quiet laugh, shaking his head at my obvious embarrassment. “I’ll check back in with you later. Your customers may stage a revolt if they don’t get their books. We certainly can’t have that.”

     “I don’t think they’re here for the books,” I mumble, glancing at the older females hovering at the edge of the group. They only look away when I make eye contact with the willowy one in the middle. How long had they been watching us? The deep chuckle rumbling in the High Lord’s chest rolls through me like thunder. I try to suppress the shiver that runs the length of my spine at the sound of it.

     “Truly, the books are only half of the appeal.” I giggle and turn to ask him what he meant by that, but he’s already through the door, the bell tinkling merrily after him. When I turn back to see the confused looks of the patrons who had been watching us, it dawns on me that he hadn’t spoken the words aloud. My fingers graze my scarf as I check to ensure it’s still in place, not that it would be remotely useful against a daemati. I hadn’t even felt him slip into my mind, but I suppose I wouldn’t know what to look for in the first place.

     I really don’t have the time to be puzzling over this, not with this many people in my shop. I slip behind the desk to relieve Mira, whose crinkled amber eyes dance as she cedes the till to me and drops a stack of books into Hanita’s arms before she bustles the young female off towards the staircase. I throw myself into assisting each of my customers with a smile, even the ones with more impolite questions regarding the High Lord’s presence. Honestly, it’s hard to focus all of my attention on them when I feel the deck of cards at my hand tugging insistently at me. Clearly they have something to say, but I don’t have time or space to indulge them.

     We don’t have a moment to breathe until the shop finally empties in the middle of the afternoon. Mira collapses into a chair near the fire with an audible sigh, sweat-damp wisps of graying hair that have slipped from her practical updo fan around her face.

     “It isn’t always like this?” Hanita asks, wiping her brow with the sleeve of her top. I laugh and shake my head, gesturing broadly towards the chair opposite Mira and the cushions surrounding the low table before finally retrieving my cards from the desk.

     “I promise it’s not, well, it hasn’t been. I’d like to believe it will all settle down soon enough.”

     “Will you still need help if it does?”

     “Mother’s sake, child, have you seen the size of this place?” Mira asks drily as she stretches her legs out before her. “Of course she needs the help, she’s needed the help for a while. You’ll give my old bones a rest and give her the opportunity to take more than a day off.”

     “I’m fine,” I insist with a sigh as I settle myself at the table. The older female opens her mouth to argue, but the bell above the door tinkles and all three sets of eyes turn to it. Roz hobbles in with a tray of tea, a wide grin on her face, and Hanita immediately sets off towards her, clearly intent on helping.

     “I wouldn’t try-” I start, but she doesn’t pay me any mind. Roz turns her calculating hazel eyes on the Illyrian female stalking towards her and jerks her chin back towards the table.

     “You’re new. Take a seat, girl, you look as if the vultures have thoroughly picked you over.”

     “I- sorry?”

     “You heard me, I said sit. Isn’t this the new girl Rhysand mentioned yesterday, savi?” Rhys made the mistake of giving my neighbor permission to use his name the first time they met, much to her delight. I wrinkle my nose at the old nickname and nod, making sure the table is clear enough for her to set the tray down. Hanita follows at her heels, a little dumbstruck, and I almost feel bad for her. Almost. She’d learn sooner or later with Roz that her help would only be appreciated if explicitly requested and not a moment sooner.

     “Her name is Hanita. Hanita, this is Roz, she and Achir own the cafe next door. They also fancy themselves matchmakers.” I shoot the brunette an apologetic smile as I remove my scarf and shuffle my cards, allowing my power to stretch after being contained for so long. “But I think it’s just an excuse to be nosy.”

     “Don’t listen to her,” the elder female says as she settles the tray on the table and begins to pour dark, richly spiced tea into the worn, chipped ceramic mugs she only uses here. “She’s a wicked thing. I have sent plenty of handsome males with hopes of courting her only to watch her turn them away in minutes. Minutes. Males can barely string together a coherent sentence is that little time-”

     “And that’s why I sent them away,” I reply archly, nudging the steaming mug towards the tray so there’s room for my cards to fall where they will. “You sent males who were nice enough, but could barely hold a casual conversation. How do you expect me to fall in love with someone I can’t converse with?”

     “Picky thing.”

     “I don’t know,” Hanita hedges, watching the cards jumping between my hands. “If you want to be loved, I think it’s brave to wait for it.”

     “Doesn’t everyone want to be loved?”

     “Love is nice, but it isn’t…necessary. I’d prefer a good male, someone kind who would be willing to protect and care for a family, should they have one. That is not always a given in matters of the heart.”

     “That is true,” I acquiesce, having seen one too many females my age fall in love with males who made no effort to care for them, to provide for them, to build a home with them. “But neither are they mutually exclusive. I believe you can have love and care. Love and commitment. One does not have to grow from another, you can have both if you’re willing to look for it.”

     A card falls out of the shuffling stack, landing face up. A chalice filled with storm clouds, a crack in the bottom of the glass where the water runs free. Chalices often represent emotions, love. My mother called this one heartstorm, trouble brewing beneath a thin surface that is sure to leak into the world. With enough pressure that chalice can break. When it’s reversed, it symbolizes pouring out one’s troubles, but upright? A storm contained, repressed, breaking the confines of its fragile cage.

     Whatever Hanita or the other ladies say next, I don’t hear it. Another card falls to the table.

     Eyes peering out of a swirling darkness. A nightmare given form. Danger lurking in the dark. Often not a physical danger unless paired with the throne of daggers, but a danger of the mind. Sadness, an encroaching darkness…the next card that falls is a mirror covered with moss and deadly mushrooms, seeing what is hidden within yourself. These three together? Becoming your own worst enemy. Finally, the card I’d been hoping would remain hidden slides out, a throne of battered daggers tipped in rich, dark crimson. Treachery, some sort of betrayal.

     Danger.

     “That looks bad,” Mira murmurs over my shoulder, and my heart leaps as the next card falls out. A pair of swans nestled together, a card that typically represents a happy mating bond, inverted…rejected. “Oh. It keeps getting worse.”

     “I don’t understand,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone here. “I don’t understand who this is-”

     Two cards fall out, their faces stuck together. I peel them apart to reveal the shooting star and the crown of dreams, both inverted. I’m struck with a vision of a dark-haired male sitting at the edge of a rumpled bed, his head in his hands. Traditional Illyrian tattoos span his tense shoulders and trail down his back on either side of his spine, a warrior’s markings on a frame that’s so thin, I can see ribs through the warm, brown flesh. Though I can’t see the male’s face, there’s no mistaking the High Lord of Night for anyone else.

     Oh, Rhys.

     “How can I help?” I whisper, more of a plea to a higher power than a legitimate question. I want to help, no, I need to help. He sacrificed fifty years of his life beneath that mountain, cut off from his territory, from his people, from his family and friends. He lost decades and still did not leave us unprotected. Surely there’s something we can do, something I can do, to ease whatever plagues him. Sadness, betrayal, a rejected mating bond. The sting that my idle comment about mates must have dealt. 

     The card that falls out next gives me an idea.

     I snatch it up and quickly put the rest of the cards back in the deck, clambering to my feet. I feel my scarf slip onto the floor, but I don’t have time to deal with it now. I’ll have to take the risk of being stricken with a vision on my errand, hopefully it will be quick. I drop my deck onto the desk and chance a quick look back at the ladies seated at the table, watching me with wide eyes.

     “I’ll be back in a moment, just…just watch the store, please?”

     “We promise not to burn it down,” Mira says with a small smile, waving me on as Roz looks mournfully at my abandoned tea. If I thought I could carry the mug and not slosh its contents all over me, I’d take it along. As it stands, I’d prefer not to wear it.

     “I promise to be back before the tea is cold! Don’t eat all of the fruit tarts!” I call over my shoulder as I snatch my cloak from the hook by the door and steal out into the last remnants of the cold winter sunshine. And run right into a willowy blonde female dressed in a lovely, royal purple cloak.

     “Oh!” The female’s voice is like a song, rich and vibrant, and I freeze when I realize I’ve heard it before. Slowly, so slowly, I follow the flowing lines of the cloak until I meet a pair of deep, velvety eyes. Her crimson lips curve into a smile as I step back, ducking my head in embarrassment.

     “Sorry, Lady Mor, I didn’t see you.”

     “I had gathered,” she says with a small laugh. “It’s just Mor, by the way. I don’t know that you’ve ever called me Lady Mor before, I don’t think I like it. I’m not sure if Rhys mentioned I’d be by, but he sent me with paperwork and keys for Hanita.”

     “Yes, she’s inside, they’ve just sat down for tea.”

     “You aren’t joining them?”

     “No, I have an errand of my own…but there is an untouched mug that was meant for me, if you’d like to have it instead.”

     “I just might. I was hoping to speak with you a bit, if I’m honest.”

     “Oh? Do you need to order a book?”

     “No, nothing like that,” Mor says, her smile melting into something fond, almost wistful as she looks at me. “I heard my cousin has been spending some time in your shop.”

     “Oh, that. You know how bored people love to gossip. He comes in to read or peruse the shelves, we talk a little, then he goes on his way. It’s nothing, truly.” The words tumble out of me in a hurry to dispel whatever reservations she might have about our relationship, or what others may have perceived our relationship to be. I know I wouldn’t be the first person in anyone’s mind as a match for the High Lord. I’m too common, without even a whisper of noble blood in my lineage; and, though I’m lovely in my own right, I don’t possess the sort of beauty that might attract a male of such standing.

     “Nothing?” she asks, blonde brows rising as she looks at me, her head tilted as if in thought. “Hmm, what a shame. I was thinking you would be a wonderful friend for him to have made.”

     “Oh, well…we are friendly, and I appreciate his company. People have been implying something more and I didn’t want you to think I had…mmm, aspirations. I don’t.”

     “Aspirations,” Mor echoes thoughtfully. I get a brief flash of the eyes in the dark peering up at me from the stack of cards and shake my head, running my thumb over the design of the card I’m clutching.

     “Yes, I- oh, I’m sorry, I really must go. This is a little time sensitive, I think.”

     “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll go in and make myself comfortable, if you intend to be back soon?”

     “I hope to be!” I say as I step around her, flashing a smile before I continue north towards the Rainbow.

     The first shop I stop at is at the edge of the brightly colored arts district. It occupies the bottom floor of a worn, slightly crooked building on the corner of a sleepy intersection. In warmer weather, all of the buildings in this section of town are typically covered in vines of jasmine and moonflowers. If I were ever to give up the cottage, I would want to live in one of the apartments here, with their lovely courtyards and walking distance to the communal garden beds. I tuck that dream away and slip through the weathered teal door into the shadowy embrace of the shop.

     It’s not very large or remotely well lit. The only light source is a large, beautiful hanging brass lantern that mostly illuminates the service counter and the few shelves that line the wall nearby containing little enchanted trinkets. Silver music boxes, small toy boxes with illusions to entertain small children, linked mirrors for communication over a long distance, bottles used to contain a loved one’s scent.

     “Who’s there?” a reedy voice breaks through my observation and draws my attention to the hunched old male behind the counter, staring up at me through large, round glasses with lenses thicker than the bottom of a wine bottle. His blue eyes are hazy and he squints in spite of the spectacles to make out my face as I step up to the counter. “Ah, welcome back! It’s been ages since you were in. How did that book light serve you?”

     “Oh, it works wonderfully, thank you.” I’d given that little iron bookmark with the ball of faelight to Mira nearly a decade ago now. It’s a wonder he remembered it when I had nearly forgotten it myself. “I was wondering if you could do something similar in a bit of a rush.”

     I lay out my idea for him, showing him the card in my hand and explaining the other shop I intend to go into for the piece he’ll need to enchant. The male hums under his breath and sets about leaving through books for the proper enchantments and writes out the total on a receipt that I happily give him the gold for.

     “It won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon,” he warns me as he drops the money in his till. “Come as late as you can stand it. I have a large order for self-cleaning paint brushes I’ll need to finish first.”

     “I’ll come after I close the bookshop for the day. Thank you so much for your help, I know this is last minute.”

     “Think nothing of it, rush orders guarantee I stay in business. Hurry now, I know that artisan. She’s a lazy girl who looks for any reason to close up.”

     “Thank you!” I tell him on my way out, suppressing a laugh to the best of my ability. I hope no one ever says such things about me. Soon I’m winding through the rainbow, darting around all manner of fae as they peruse the galleries and bakeries and workshops, until I find the shop with a wall of glass facing the streets. Beautiful lanterns hang from display hooks in an array of sizes and colors, some fashioned of brass and copper, others of pure gold and platinum. They’re lovely, but they’re not quite what I’m looking for, so I step inside to look at the tables.

     “Hello!” The fire nymph behind the counter greets me with a small wave. Looking into her wide eyes is like staring into molten lava, the way they shift in the lamplight is almost like the golds and oranges and blacks churning and flowing within the confines of her irises. “Welcome! Have you been in before?”

     “Oh, no, I haven’t. I normally stand outside and look at your displays, but today I actually came to shop. I’m looking for something small that might sit on a nightstand? I’m having it charmed, the enchanter said brass might be the best to ensure longevity.”

     “Any specific colors in mind?”

     “Oh, no, I really need to deliver it to the other shop today.”

     “That won’t be a problem, but I’m afraid I have a variety of colors. Is it meant to be a gift or is it for you?”

     “A gift. If you have anything in blue, the darker the better, or maybe…maybe violet. If you have a design with stars…”

     “Well, this is Velaris, isn’t it?” The nymph laughs, tossing her long, wavy copper hair over a slim shoulder. I show her the card in my hand, motioning to the elements of it I was hoping to imitate, and she nods eagerly. “Hold on, I have a few lamps in the back I’ve just finished that sound like what you may be looking for.”

     She disappears behind a wooden door near far back corner and I hear her rummaging around back there for quite some time until, finally, she reappears with a small, beautiful lantern crafted out of dark brass with small star cutouts and glass that fades from rose to violet to deep, vibrant sapphire, a perfect imitation of the darkening night sky. It’s absolutely perfect.

     “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, lightly trailing the tip of my finger along the edge of one of the panes.

     “What do you think, is it the one?”

     “Oh, yes, I think it’s perfect. I’ll take it.” I willingly hand over the last of the gold in my purse in exchange for a box with the carefully wrapped lantern. Once I’ve dropped it off with the enchanter and made my way back to my little shop, it’s much later than I’d anticipated and the sun is low in the sky. There are a few customers milling about the upper levels, and Hanita is wandering around the third floor with a stack of books tucked in the crook of her arm while Mira minds the desk, perched on a stool I typically keep tucked away.

     “That was quite an errand,” the older female remarks as she watches me hang my coat back on the hook by the door. “Roz went back to the cafe, but you have company waiting with more tea. Hope you’re hungry, she brought enough fruit tarts to feed an army.”

     “Thanks, Mira. Sorry I’m so late,” I murmur, tucking my card back in with the deck on the desk and rewrapping it before I head back to the table before the fire. Mor is curled on one of the thicker cushions with her arms braced on the table as she looks through a thin book bound in worn blue leather. Not one of mine, I would have remembered if I sold it to her. A mug of tea sits near her right hand, lighter than the pot I’d left behind, smelling of sweet honey and raspberries. There is a box near the teapot and spare mug filled with fruit tarts and sweet rolls that brings my stomach roaring to life. I hadn’t realized how much of an appetite I’ve worked up.

     “Welcome back,” Mor says, glancing up at me with a warm grin. “I’m afraid we did, in fact, eat the last of the fruit tarts. But I ordered more! The boys will be glad to eat what we don’t.”

     “Will they?” I flop down onto one of the cushions with a sigh, my back and feet aching from all of the running around I’d done. As Mor fills the empty cup for me, I pluck my nicely folded scarf from the corner of the table and begin to drape it over my head again.

     “Oh yes. By boys, I do mean almost exclusively Cassian. Azriel might get one if he’s lucky, and Rhys…well, from what Roz said, he prefers the nut rolls.”

     “He does,” I murmur, unable to keep the smile from my face. On the mornings Rhys has dropped by the cafe first, he always comes bearing one of Roz’s fresh nut rolls that fills the building with the scent of toasted pecans and the lovely thin, sweet caramel glaze I’ve never been able to replicate. I think she’s even begun to make them more than once a day, just so she’s prepared with a fresh batch any time he might come by. I raise the steaming tea to my lips once the cup is full and happily sip the sweet brew.

     Then I look up to find Mor watching me with a smile of her own. I clear my throat and place the tea back on the table in favor of a fruit tart filled with dark, lush berries commonly found in Illyria. The coarse sugar Roz used to top the tart creates a lovely contrast with the buttery, flaky crust and rich fruit filling. These are my favorite of her winter tarts, so I take my time working my way through one while the High Lord’s cousin continues to leaf through her book, grinning to herself. Once I finish, I clear my throat.

     “You wanted to speak to me, Mor?”

     “I did.” The book before her closes with a slight creak and vanishes with a wave of her hand. “I wanted to thank you, actually. For being so kind to Rhys and making him feel welcome in your shop.”

     “You’re thanking me for being kind to the High Lord?” I ask, furrowing my brow as I stare at her.

     “No,” the blonde says with a small laugh, shaking her head. “I am thanking you for being kind to Rhysand, my cousin. If you do not already know there is a difference between the two, I believe you’ll discover it quickly.”

     “He is always both,” I tell her with a shrug before admitting, “but the majority of his recent visits have been more casual in nature, friendly. I…I think we’re becoming friends, or something like that.”

     “I think you are,” Mor agrees. “I think that’s precisely what he needs, a friend. Someone separate from his duties to his court, who can just be there. It’s important to have that sort of separation, especially after…everything he’s been through.”

     “Has he, uhm…talked about it with you?” All of that lost time would weigh on anyone. And, truly, none of us have any idea what was happening in Amarantha’s court beyond what little had been said in the High Lord’s absence. Though I have not seen any physical scars left from the experience, he remains pale and drawn most of the time, carrying out his duty to the court and seemingly deriving little joy from it. From the little I’ve observed, he goes through the motions much like an enchanted toy.

     “Only once. I expect you haven’t really discussed it, have you?”

     “No. We talk about books or philosophy, I’m always surprised by how voraciously he reads anything I recommend.”

     “Rhys always loved books,” she says, her smile turning fond. “When we were children, we’d spend a lot of time in the Hewn City family library to escape our fathers and court duties. There was nothing he wouldn’t read, I’m happy to hear that hasn’t changed. Rhys likes to think and he likes to be challenged, he’s never liked having anything handed to him. Well, except maybe Roz’s nut rolls, apparently.”

     I chuckle into my tea as I take another sip, weighing the information in my mind. Yes, that all sounds like the male I’ve been getting to know. The few notes I’ve managed to observe him taking over his reading have been riddled with questions and smudged ink, as he often formed new ideas in the middle of the note he was already making. I imagine it would be infuriating for anyone else to try and make sense of.

     “Yes, I think I’ve noticed that as well. We were discussing a chapter of a philosophy book he was reading the other day, something about freedom, I think. Something about what it means to be free and do we truly have free will within the confines of a society- honestly, I don’t recall how that conversation ended. I remember thinking that he does love to try and see all sides of an argument.”

     “Like a dog with a bone,” she agrees, taking a bite of her own tart. “I think he likes the satisfaction of knowing he may have influenced an opinion by providing any and every available argument, even if the outcome was the same.”

     “Why do you think that is?”

     “Oh, I know why that is. Residents of Velaris and the smaller villages have a very different view of the High Lord than Hewn City residents, and that’s amplified tenfold anywhere beyond the borders of our territory. Especially now. I don’t think he enjoys knowing there are people who believe him, and the rest of us, to be monstrous based on rumors or outdated information on how our court was ruled. It’s partially our fault, in some respects. To keep Velaris as a safe haven, in the past our court has deemed it necessary to perpetuate those ideals, but after what happened- what he had to do to keep us safe…I don’t know, but I think his perspective may be changing.”

     “That sounds heavy,” I murmur, breaking off a piece of crust to keep my hands busy.

     “It can be. He’s always insisted it’s his burden to bear, any time a hard call had to be made, and I’m certain he stands by that statement to this day.”

     “So why are you telling me this?”

     “Because you have decided to be his friend,” she says lightly, “which is wonderful. You are so kind, and I believe he needs and deserves that kindness, especially now. I suppose I want to urge you to walk into this relationship, however it may unfold, with your eyes wide open. His path is not an easy one, and sometimes it can be difficult to walk at his side. It is a hard truth that it is not for everyone, he is not for everyone, but I hope that does not deter you.”

     “It does not,” I say, glancing up from my tart. When I meet Mor’s gaze, I get the sense that she’s looking into the heart of me, verifying the truth of my words. After a long, silent moment, she gives a short nod and smiles a little to herself as she takes another sip of her tea.

     “Then I hope to see you around more often. Now, tell me, is there anything new in the romance section? Anything at all. I’m dying for something new to read, but I feel as though I’ve read every book on the shelf twice over.”

     “Not yet,” I tell her with an apologetic smile. “I’ve heard from some of our local printers that there will be a few new releases next month for me to stock, but it’s looking more barren than usual these days.”

     “I wonder why,” she says drily, and we’re both silent for a beat before breaking out into giggles, which only worsens when the male we’d been discussing walks through the door. There’s a brief lull in conversation as the ladies on the upper levels pause to get a nice, long look at him, which only makes us laugh harder.

     “Oh, I don’t know if I like this,” Rhysand says lightly as he stops at the end of the table. “What could be so funny as to have you both in hysterics?”

     “You’re early,” Mor says once she has calmed a little, which is about the same time I manage to blurt between breaths: “We’re not hysterical.”

     “Then why are you winded?” He asks as he drops onto the cushion beside Mor. “Oh, fruit tarts. Did Roz make these?”

     “Of course she made them,” Mor says, closing the lid on the box once he’s snatched one out of it. “But I thought you were eating out tonight?”

     “I am.” Those lovely violet eyes flick to me. “Will you be joining me?”

     “Yes.” I drain the last of my tea before casting a guilty look at Mira and the steadily growing piles of books on the desk, ready to be reshelved. “If I can get this place closed down in a decent amount of time. You might be better off going on without me.”

     “Absolutely not. What needs to be done?”

     “Well, shelving to start. Poor Hanita hasn’t even been here a day, I wouldn’t blame her for not staying on at the rate she’s having to shelve books.”

     “That’s easily done,” he says with a nod. “What else?”

     “Once everyone’s gone, I’ll have to balance the till, put out the fire, sweep-”

     “I’ll work on reshelving,” Mor says as she pops the last bite of her tart in her mouth. “But you’re stuck with sweeping, Rhysie.”

     “Fine,” Rhys says, vanishing the rest of his tart and the box Mor had on the table, along with the teapot and empty mugs. His cousin squawks at her missing treats, but he waves her off with a belabored, “it’s at home, it’ll be waiting when you get there.”

     “It better be! And the other overgrown bats had better not get to them first, Rhysand, or you’ll owe me so many treats.”

     “Have you been putting up with this all afternoon?”

     I laugh at the indignation in his voice and give him a shrug as I climb to my feet after her. “Oh, she was far nicer to me. Mor, are you sure you know where all of those go?”

     “If I don’t, I’ll find out!” The blonde says cheerfully as she whisks a stack off of the corner of the desk. Hanita pauses on the bottom stair to watch Mor flounce past her with a slightly awed expression. Honestly, I can’t blame her, the High Lord’s cousin is a whirlwind in fae form. It truly feels as if it’s Morrigan’s world and we’re all merely living in it.

     “She means well,” Rhys says, his voice suddenly closer than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t heard him stand, much less begin following me towards the desk, and I press my hand to my chest to feel my heart racing furiously beneath it. “I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

     “You move so quietly.” I duck my head as my cheeks flood with heat, embarrassed at being caught off guard. He always seems to do that to me. I feel his hand settle between my shoulderblades, his touch light enough to be shrugged off if I were inclined to. I’m not. “You really don’t have to help, I can manage the sweeping-”

     “Oh no, I haven't swept anything since I was a soldier in the barracks. I’m sure it’s good for me.”

     “I’m sure,” I agree, suppressing a giggle as I step away from him. This playful back and forth feels like a dance I don’t know, but it’s one I’m eager to learn. Sidling up to Mira at the desk, I lean in conspiratorially to whisper, “Mira, would you mind showing the High Lord where the broom is?”

     “The…broom?” Mira glances back over her shoulder, then casts me a scandalized look. “Surely you don’t mean to have the High Lord sweep-”

     “Oh, she does. She said I’d have to sweep the shop if I intend to take her to dinner.” Now it’s my turn to look at the male currently leaning against the side of my desk, smirking at me with such easy arrogance and a spark in those twilight eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. Just when I open my mouth to protest that I had not, in fact, said that, he turns those eyes on Mira and I have to fight not to cackle as she immediately glances down at the receipt book, blushing fiercely. “You’ll show me where to find the broom, won’t you, Mira? I made a reservation I’d hate to be late for.”

     A reservation. My mouth falls open and I fight to say something intelligible, but all that comes out is a mildly offended grunt that makes Hanita look twice at me as she grabs another stack of books from the desk. I’m hardly dressed to go anywhere in this city one would need a reservation for. This time it’s Mira’s turn to laugh at me and she does, a full-bodied cackle at my expense.

     “Get out of here before I fire you both!” My perturbed tone only serves to make her laugh harder, but Hanita’s alarmed expression has me waving her off with an apologetic smile. “Not you, Hanita, you’re safe until you start teasing me, too. Finish that stack and you can go. Honestly, I can get the rest of them.”

     “I’ll get the rest of them,” Mira says reassuringly to the younger female, “after I show this one where the broom is. You go home, girl, you worked hard today. I’ll see you in the morning and show you how to open the shop.”

     “O-okay,” Hanita murmurs uncertainly, nodding as she steps away, her eyes searching the upper levels as she walks towards the stairs. The last few customers just filed out of the shop empty-handed, which I’m assuming was Mor’s doing, and I’m not sure if I should thank her for throwing people out or not.

     Once I’m alone at my desk, I quickly count the till and reconcile the balance with the receipt book to ensure the numbers line up. Mira always keeps phenomenal records, so the task is finished in no time and the funds are locked away in the safe by the time Mira and Hanita are pulling on their own cloaks and bidding me farewell, the rest of the books having been split between them. The lanterns dim the moment the fire goes out, and I turn to see the High Lord finishing up sweeping near the hearth.

     “You’re telling me Rhys actually swept?” Mor’s voice carries across the room as she hops down the final step, brushing her hands against her fine clothes. “I thought he’d use magic to get rid of the dust.”

     “How lazy do you think I am?” Rhys replies before I get the opportunity, clearly intent on defending his honor.

     “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

     “I appreciate it, Rhys, thank you.” I tell him, hopefully heading off an argument before it can actually begin. I don’t believe we’ll make it in time for Rhys’s reservation if they start bickering now. I didn’t have a close family growing up, not in the way they are. I never experienced what it’s like to have someone to pick at for the joy of it. It must have been fun, growing up with a cousin so close in age. And a sister…well, perhaps I’ll ask about her another day. Not today. “It looks wonderful.”

     “Wonderful, she says,” Mor turns her teasing on me with a dazzling smile. “You’re so nice.”

     “Don’t you have someone else to torment?” Rhys asks, his back to us as he places the broom in the thin closet tucked away between two of the shelves lining the walls.

     “Of course, Cassian and Azriel are supposed to be home tonight.”

     “They’re home.” The High Lord’s voice is smooth and certain as he eyes his cousin before he summons a thick, plain black coat to ward away the winter chill. “Take Amren with you, I’m sure she needs company.”

     “Have you told her I’m coming?”

     “And give her a chance to hide away? No. Tell her I’ll want to speak with her later tonight, she might be more inclined to accompany you without a fuss.”

     “Do you really need to talk to her?”

     “I do.” The minute he considers the matter settled, he looks to me and I straighten a little, remembering I’m actually present in the room and am not simply observing them from a distance. “Are you ready?”

     “Let me get my cloak.” Thankfully, my gloves and earmuffs are in the pocket, so by the time they meet me at the door, I’m ready to go back out in the cold.

     “Will you be warm enough?” Rhys asks as Mor leaves us with little more than a brief wave. I usher him out the door and lock it behind us, slipping my keys into my pocket before I turn around to see him watching me. His elbow is angled slightly away from his body and I slip my hand into it without a thought. “Would you prefer to winnow?”

     “I like the walk, don’t you?”

     “You worked all day, I want you to be comfortable.”

     “So did you.”

     “A different sort of work, nothing quite so physical. You’ve been quite busy since the turn of the year.”

     “I have.” Are we going to talk about the eyes that always seem to follow us? The uptick in patrons to my shop hoping to catch sight of him? I wait for Rhys to press on but he doesn’t, and we slip into a comfortable silence that finds its way between us more often than not. I can’t bring myself to sit in it though, not tonight. Not after the glimpse of a vision I’d had earlier. “Did you have a good day?”

     “It was fine. I spent it in meetings with various lords and a steward who’d rather put a knife in my back than work with me, but we managed to get a few of the items on their very long list taken care of. I’d call it a success.”

     “Would you?” I ask warily. “How can you work with someone like that?”

     “How can I not?” He counters gently, squeezing the hand tucked into his elbow. “They are in my territory under my protection. I cannot pick which of my citizens I serve, though there are days I certainly would like to.”

     “You mean High Lords don’t get to do whatever they want?” His mouth quirks at my teasing, but the expression on his face falls to something more grim as we walk. It’s like watching a mask slip away.

     “I wish that were true. Perhaps it is for some, I don’t claim to know how the others rule their territories, but for mine? No, I do not get to do whatever I want.”

     “What would you do if you could?”

     “Now that is a dangerous question.” His tone is far darker and more contemplative than I’d bargained for. In that moment, it’s like I’ve stepped into a cold, bottomless pit: my stomach flutters anxiously and a chill racks my body. Then the feeling is gone as quickly as it came, swept away on an early evening breeze. “It doesn’t really matter what I would do if I didn’t have to consider the consequences. I do consider them, some days I feel all I do is consider the possible ramifications of the choices I have made or will make.”

     “That sounds exhausting.”

     “Oh, it is.” Rhys glances down at me and smiles then, though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and I tighten my grip on his arm. “So maybe you’ll understand why I don’t mind shelving the occasional book or sweeping your floors by hand. It’s nice to be able to give someone help that isn’t going to require much from me.”

     It’s nice to just be useful. It’s a sentiment I understand very well, unfortunately, so I nod to acknowledge the truth he’s revealed about himself. I mull over my own history and I think about giving him a truth of my own. Would he even care to know it? Would it even help?

     “My mother was a Seer, too,” I began hesitantly, toying with a loose thread on my sleeve. “It’s common in her family line for at least one daughter to be one. My mother had it worse than the few of her cousins or aunts that had inherited the gift: she spent most of her life trapped in visions, she was never able to work outside of our home, these scarves I wear stopped working for her long before they had me. I wasn’t able to work until after they both passed, I spent a lot of days trapped at home with her and I’d try to get her out, to…I don’t know, enrich her life however I could, but it’s impossible to help someone who doesn’t even know you’re there most days. So I kept busy, I cleaned, I read to her even when she couldn’t hear me…I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, except to say that I suppose I understand, to an extent, the desire to be helpful in some small way that makes a difference. And maybe I can understand what it’s like to not feel as though your life is truly your own, that your actions have a direct effect on others. It can be very lonely, trying to consider everything at once on a small scale. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

     “I love my territory and my people, so it isn’t a burden but…yes, sometimes I believe it would be significantly easier if I cared less.”

     “The fact that you care at all is what makes you a good leader, Rhys. I hope you know that.”

     “And yet, it still isn’t enough,” he says lightly. “Here we are. Have you been here before?”

     The here in question is a little restaurant on the harbor built around the base of what had been a crumbling lighthouse. Velaris’s first lighthouse, if the stories are to be believed. The property had been purchased during our period of total isolation, and what remained of the lighthouse was restored before the rest of the structure was built out of the pine the lumberyard had left from the Illyrian mountains. In the spring and summer, it’s covered with jasmine and the hummingbirds flock to it. I can picture their little, jeweled bodies eagerly darting between the flowering vines for a delicious meal, much to the delight of the customers eating on the roof.

     But that’s spring.

     Now, in the cold embrace of winter, the vines are dormant and large, jewel-toned lamps are placed between tables, enchanted to heat the space as well as give off adequate light. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone up there tonight, the first I’ve seen since the restaurant opened. Rhys ushers me to the ochre-colored door in time for it to swing open. A willowy dryad greets us with a smile, and the thin, braided vines that flow over her shoulder begin to sprout the most beautiful, delicate magnolia blossoms I’ve ever seen. The scent of them permeates the air around us, and I begin to feel a little lightheaded, almost intoxicated, after a couple of breaths.

     “High Lord,” she says with a curtsy, her voice like a warm breeze through the heart of the forest. “Lady. Thank you for dining with us this evening. My name is Bahaar, can I take your outerwear? Thank you, it will be hanging just back here, let me know if you’d like me to bring it to you. Please allow me to show you to your table.”

     I’d interrupt to tell her I’m not a lady, at least not the sort she must think I am, but Rhys seems to take it in stride and settles his hand on my lower back, urging me to follow her. I don’t know if I can reliably draw breath anymore, let alone make my feet work. I know I’m blushing, but I’m powerless to stop it.

     “You have a lovely restaurant,” he says idly as we wind through an empty dining room set with tablecloths in lovely, rich fabrics and dinnerware that seems to be made of pure gold. “Isn’t it normally busier?”

     “My husband and I shifted the rest of our reservations for half an hour after your arrival, High Lord, so I could seat the both of you without having to worry about a crowded restaurant. I hope you don’t mind.”

     “I don’t, but I don’t mind the crowd either.” It’s not much of a lecture, but the intent behind the statement is clear: do not make allowances for me. I’m still one of you…but I don’t know that he’s ever truly been one of us, has he? How can he, when his position will always set him apart? Bahaar nods and the flower petals flutter like they’re dancing in a breeze. I can’t help but wonder if she has problems with bees in warmer weather, but maybe a dryad doesn’t see bees as a problem.

     We weave through the tables until we reach the curved brick of the original lighthouse and she leads us up the creaky wooden stairs lit with golden faelights. Up and up we spiral until we emerge into the cool night breeze, made infinitely more tolerable by the heated lamps, and we follow her to the low table in the corner near the water, surrounded by sumptuous silk cushions. A thin, tasseled blanket is thrown over the railing beside us, the same color as the wine-dark sea flowing into the harbor. A ceramic bowl of water sits in the middle of the table, where floating candles and fragile magnolia petals drift lazily in a slowly churning whirlpool. A tower of dark fruits and cheeses sits at the edge of the table, and the High Lord ensures I’m settled before he takes a seat across from me.

     “We have bottles of starfruit wine or a spiced pomegranate mead,” Bahaar says and I shrug when Rhys looks at me, ambivalent about the choice. The dryad takes pity on us almost immediately and interjects with, “the wine will pair well with the cheese and fruit, I’ll bring it first. The mead will best compliment tonight's stew, if that sounds acceptable?”

     “It sounds wonderful, thank you.” I smile up at her and the female returns it with one of her own before excusing herself with a short bow. When I turn back to Rhys, he’s looking out at the twilight sky stretching over the harbor. His golden skin is warm in the firelight, and I clench my fists in my lap to deter myself from reaching across the table to touch him. Bahaar returns shortly with two glasses of pale, shimmering starfruit wine, and I take a sip of it to give myself something to do. It’s light and sweet, and I think if I were to swallow a falling star, this would be what it tasted like. After another long few moments of studying the High Lord, silhouetted against the starlit sky, I ask softly, “where did you go?”

     Rhys hums a little, shaking his head before he looks back at me and manages a small smile. “Nowhere. I’m sorry.”

     “Why do you look so sad, Rhys?”

     “I am sad,” he admits, taking a sip of his wine. “I’m trying not to be.”

     “It’s okay if you are, sometimes you need to be sad for a while. Do you want to talk about it?”

     “No.” He shakes his head and inky-black hair falls over his forehead, shielding his eyes from view as he focuses on plating fruit and cheese for us both. “There isn’t much to discuss, if I’m honest, the situation isn’t something I have any control over. I’m trying to learn how to live with it.”

     “And you don’t think talking about it will help?”

     “Not tonight. Maybe after tomorrow it will be easier, I don’t know, but I didn’t come here with you tonight to discuss that.”

     “What would you like to discuss?”

     “You.” When he looks up again, his hair falls away from his eyes and it’s like he’s truly seeing me for the first time since we sat down. The soft, warm smile that lights his face makes my heart flutter. “I want to hear more about you, about your life. Both of your parents are gone now, but it seems you were fairly close to them, weren’t you?”

     “I was. I miss them very much.” Too much, if I’m honest. I miss reading with my mother and midnight talks over tea with my father once he’d finished work for the day. “I think my father is the reason I have a hard time taking days off. He never really had many, he worked most days from dawn to well past dusk to provide a comfortable life for my mother and I, and now…without them, I’m not really sure what to do with myself. Renovating the shop took a lot of time and community effort, once that was finished I didn’t know what to do, so I just…worked. Mira was a regular customer until one day she asked if I needed any help. I did, but I couldn’t pay her at the time, and she’s refused money whenever I’ve offered it. I think she was bored in retirement.”

     “And what about you?”

     “What about me?”

     “You have a successful business, have you thought of what you might like to do next? Take up a hobby? Do some traveling?”

     “Traveling?” Rhys looks puzzled when I laugh at him, so I take another sip of my wine and take a bite out of the blood orange slice on my plate before I answer. “High Lord, I do rather well for myself and I don’t have any outstanding debts. I can’t winnow, I don’t have the sort of money it would take to travel. But I’ve thought about where I’d go. To the continent, perhaps, to Montesere or Rask, maybe Ravennia if there’s a way to do it safely. I’d like to see the world, but I’ve never had the opportunity to step beyond my front door, not even to neighboring territories. I was born in Velaris, I’ll probably die here without seeing much of it.”

     “Maybe not,” he says slowly, taking a bite of soft, flaky white cheese. “Where would you go first?”

     “In a perfect world, where there’s never been any conflict?”

     “Sure.”

     “I miss spring,” I say with a sigh. Rhys flinches at the word and my brow furrows as I study him. “I miss the world being green and full of flowers and life, so I expect I’d like to visit one of the warmer courts. Truly, Winter is last on my list to see, but…”

     “But you miss flowers,” he says in a hollow tone. “Somewhere green. Where…where else?”

     “I want to see something I’ve never seen before. Something centuries old that’s stood the test of time. Old temple ruins or a holy well or…I don’t know. Something incredible.”

     “Something incredible.” This time his voice isn’t so haunted, there’s life in his eyes when he nods at me over his wine. “I believe I know just the thing. Give me a few days to do a little research of my own, but by the end of the week, I should have something to show you that isn’t very far at all.”

     “What are you planning?” I laugh, popping a few pomegranate seeds into my mouth.

     “You’ll see.” My heart soars when he winks at me, then I hear the door open and I look back to see Bahaar leading a small crowd to a table far from ours. I’m a little chilled in spite of the heaters, so I pull the blanket from the rail and lay it across my lap. “Are you warm enough, would you like my jacket?”

     “Oh, I’m fine. It’s only a bit of a chill, I’m sure once the stew arrives I’ll be plenty warm. Now, what about you, Rhys? What do you want?”

     “What do I…want?” He blinks slowly at me, as though I’ve said something strange he hadn’t once thought about. “I want to see my territory thriving, to ensure we’re safe…that we’re all safe. And then, I suppose, I want to live in peace. I’ve seen enough war and bloodshed to hope I can avoid conflict for the rest of my days.”

     “And nothing else?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “You don’t wish to travel yourself? What about a family, a wife?” He snorts derisively and I tilt my head. “Someone to keep you company, does that not appeal to you?”

     “I have company, don’t I? No, I know it’s not the same, but I’ve had centuries to think about it and the last fifty years to realize that any wife I may take would have a target painted on her back, and that goes for any children I sire. And who would choose that? I could never ask it of anyone, it’s not worth it.”

     “I don’t agree,” I murmur, shaking my head. “I know the other courts might think us monstrous, but are we really so reviled-”

     “Not us,” he says too softly. “Me. I have done horrendous things over the last fifty years and made myself quite the monster. I don’t believe there is anyone beyond this court who will ever see me as more than a nightmare, with good reason.”

     “Did you have any other choice?”

     “I truly wish I had.” When his shadowed eyes meet mine, I can’t take the pain bubbling beneath the surface and reach across the table to rest my hand on his. He doesn’t pull away.

     “Then you did what you had to do. I don’t care what the world thinks of you, Rhysand, I know you’re not a monster. And when you find someone who chooses you, I hope you let her stay and love you. You deserve to be loved.”

    He opens his mouth to say more, but once glance over my shoulder has him drawing himself up, and I swiftly remove my hand from his. Bahaar sets two bowls of thick, spiced stew filled with chunks of beef and pomegranate seeds before us, along with smaller bowls filled with sticky rice and two glasses of mead. I’ll take up the mantle of this conversation another day, perhaps, when the subject isn’t such an open wound. For tonight, dinner will be enough. I’ll speak of softer things and think of spring, when things will be warm and alive again.

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This is fun

1. I probably already participated in every existent area of entertainment, from acting, to music, dance, gymnastics and now writing

2. I learned English only with netflix since my family was going through a rough time (financially speaking) and that was my only source of learning

3. I jumped a year in school; technically I just started school too young and should've repeated a year to match with my other classmates, but my mom fought everyone in the school to keep me in the grade I was and now I'm always the youngest in every class