President Rhysand was running out of options.
He had been pushing his luck as it was. A man of his stature and political importance, a man who had been elected to govern his country for life, should have been taken years ago. But a couple weeks into his presidency he proved that he was not the man of every girl's dreams.
As a politician, he was smooth, measured, and well-spoken. As a person, though… Rhysand had looks on his side. But though he did enjoy the company of others, and did have natural charm, he had a habit of shutting everyone out of his life, save a select few. He was quiet,brooding, dark, different. In a rare moment of seriousness, Mor had mentioned that he was years ahead of his time. He wasn't so sure about that, but he knew he was different.
So he had been able to last this long. But his time was running out. Sooner or later, he would have to marry one of his many suitors. The girls might initially have been underwhelmed with his presence, but they were coming to a point where they just did not care. So much so that the steady stream of suitors was becoming a big distraction.
Rhys knew the easiest way out was to just choose one of the many girls, and deal with her for the rest of his life. But there was something more. As a child, Rhys had always loved stories. Stories where the prince, or the orphan, or the hero, found their one true love and lived happily ever after. At the time, he hadn't fully understood what it meant to have one true love. He hadn't understood love at all, really.
But now he was starting to understand how those heroes felt. He wanted passion, he wanted romance. He wanted to find his love; the soul that matched his. He knew she was out there. He could feel her.
Rhysand was desperate. He couldn't wait to marry any longer. He needed her now, or he might lose her forever.
He read his clock. Around 1 am. He grimaced. He really had gotten no sleep, and probably wouldn't for the rest of the night, too.
Rhys needed to clear his head, to be alone for some time, and just breathe in the air. He looked out his window. The city was asleep. Perfect. The Heart of Asteria fountain looked most spectacular in the night, when no one else was there.
He climbed out of bed, got dressed, and headed outside to take a walk.
Feyre awoke with a start, sweating.
horrible wretched useless forever damned
"It was only just a dream," she tried.
you idiot that dream was reality once you complete moron
cursed worthless nothing who should be confined to hell forever
No. It was not working. Like she had done so many nights, she ran to the bathroom and vomited.
good feyre good you deserve to suffer like this
She vomited and vomited, feeling nothing but pure guilt. Tamlin had always slept through this. She wondered how. If he had really loved her, wouldn't he have been attentive to her needs?
no of course not you wretched human being you…
She stopped her train of thought. Her anger with herself and her anger with Tamlin were two different things. Best keep them separate.
God, she really needed air. She needed to take a walk, right now, while the rest of the city was asleep. Maybe she'd go visit that fountain.
She wiped her mouth, drank some water, got dressed, and headed out.
That lady had been right. The fountain really was spectacular. Feyre closed her eyes and imagined herself riding the water. She smiled. It was beautiful.
And oh, the stars! The night was a cloudless one, so the stars sparkled and glittered and shined with all they had. The stars in Chlorida hadn't been like this, even on a cloudless night. The night sky in Asteria was truly magical.
She looked around and found a bench. She sat into it and sighed. Tonight she was just going to watch the fountain and the stars.
A cool breeze swept her hair, and she turned to see what it was. Nothing. She turned the other way to fix her hair, and glanced at the bench.
To her surprise, there was someone there, sitting next to her.
Rhys weaved his way through the city, taking his favorite route to the fountain. Bakery… blacksmith… library… tailor… apothecary… there it was! The fountain shone bright tonight, just like every night since his childhood. He smiled as he remembered those memories. Every night he had felt off, or down, he had made his way here. And he always felt better.
After taking in the beauty of the fountain, he looked around for his favorite bench to sit. Once he located it, he gasped.
A young lady was also sitting there. She sat tall and confident, yet relaxed and sure. She twirled her luscious chocolate brown hair around with her finger, as if she hadn't a care in the world. And her eyes. As Rhys saw her eyes more closely, he could see a familiar expression in them. This was how he had looked as he had sat, so many nights, just trying to shake off his worries and put perspective into them. He hadn't realized what a beautiful expression it was. Although maybe it was only beautiful on her. Because she was beautiful.
Rhys hesitated for a moment, then started walking towards the bench. Who was this girl, and why was she here? He needed to know. Besides, even if they didn't have a conversation, he could share his bench with someone else.
He sat down. He turned his gaze to the fountain, but kept an eye on the girl. After a few minutes, she looked straight at him.
Feyre started. Who was this person? He sure looked gorgeous, with his perfectly groomed blue-black hair and violet eyes. After a few seconds, he tentatively turned in her direction as well.
They both just stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. Then he broke the silence.
"What might bring a beautiful young lady like you outside at such an unbecoming hour?" he said.
Feyre was taken aback by his charm, his sensuality, his cheek. Who was he, to talk to her like this?
"First of all, let's get this straight. I am not a beautiful young lady," she said. "And second of all, that is none of your business. I don't plan on telling you, for sure."
Now it was his turn to look taken aback. "Whoa, darling, you sure have spunk. I was just curious, is all," he said. She smiled wickedly.
"Why do you care?" she asked.
"Seriously, darling, have you ever heard of small talk?" he replied.
She rolled her eyes. "DO NOT call me darling," she said. Angrily, she tore her gaze away from him and proceeded to glare at the fountain.
God, he was obnoxious.
Rhysand was in awe. Not only was this girl gorgeous, but she had passion. True passion. Her eyes… they were the eyes of a girl who had seen too much, who had been through too much. But she still held her head high and didn't get kicked around by others. Something about him was attracted to her, though he didn't know how. He wondered what she had gone through. He wondered who she was, really. He needed to know.
"Okay, Rhys, let's try this again," he thought. "If you want to know, let go of your pride."
He turned and looked straight at Feyre, ignoring the fact that she was pointedly looking away.
"Let's start over," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm Rhysand. You can call me Rhys." He let out a breath internally.
She turned towards him. Great. One win.
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm Feyre," she said suspiciously. Feyre. He liked it.
"Feyre," he tried. "A beautiful name for a princess like you.."
Her eyes flamed up and he started. "Let's get this straight," she spat out. "I. Am. Not. A. Princess. You hear?"
"Whoa! I'm sorry!" he said. Had he hit a nerve there?
He must have looked genuinely contrite, because a moment later, she said, "My sister Elain is a real princess."
Was this her idea of small talk? Had he reached her? He would take it. "Sounds like someone I'd like to meet," he said. And there, it was. The faintest glimmer of a smile.
Feyre was feeling more than slightly overwhelmed.
On the one hand, he was so ridiculously arrogant and cocky. She hated him, hated his guts, hated everything about him. But… after feeling trapped for so long, after running for so long, after being lost for so long, talking to someone was nice. Maybe she would keep talking, for just a bit more.
"Yeah, people can't help but like Elain," she replied to him. "My sister Nesta, now she's a different story," she smiled.
"How so?" he asked. He looked genuinely curious.
"Well, if you ever meet Nesta, which you never will," she laid emphasis on this part, "your first impression would be that she is cruel and heartless and cares for no one." Seeing the expression of bewilderment on his face, she continued. "But I'm not sure. Nesta has always puzzled me, and I don't think I will ever fully understand her. But there's definitely more to her than meets the eye."
"Wow," he looked impressed. "You've told me about your sisters, but what about you, darling?"
She glared at him. He had some nerve! She said slowly and clearly, "As I mentioned before, I am nobody's darling. And I don't like talking about myself, so leave it, okay? I'm not about to explain my inner workings to a stranger, that's for certain. And especially not an obnoxious one like you."
He didn't seem too offended. "Okay, okay, calm down, I won't ask again," he said. "Boy, you sure are strong for all your innocent looks," he added.
She was mildly surprised. "Do I really look innocent?" she asked.
He pondered this. "Not innocent, per se, but you…" He trailed off.
Now she was really curious. "Go on," she urged.
"You wouldn't like it," he said definitively, trying to end the conversation, but she shook her head.
"I won't bite," she said, for the purpose of continuing the conversation.
He started again, looking slightly embarrassed. "You don't look innocent, but you look somewhat… haunted. You look like you've gone through burdens you weren't ready for."
Whoa. Pretty deep. And pretty accurate. Too accurate for comfort, really. Carefully avoiding his main points, she said, "And why exactly do you say innocent instead of this?"
"Because… both imply vulnerability," he said. He started to continue, but she cut him off.
"You think I'm vulnerable?" She glared at him.
"No!" He looked shocked. "I have no idea what you are, but I know for certain that you are not vulnerable."
She started. Here was a stranger who she had talked to for five minutes. A very obnoxious stranger, too. And yet, he had paid her one of the biggest compliments she had ever received. She looked away. She didn't want him seeing how much that meant to her.
"We came here to watch the fountain and the stars, right?" she said brusquely.
"Yeah…" he said.
"Well, then, I don't know about you, but I'd like to do that," she said.
Rhys turned his gaze towards the sky. Funnily enough, he didn't really need this nighttime journey anymore. Or, even if he did, it would be no good. Because he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Who was she, and what had she been through? He knew she was avoiding talking about herself, and her past, but why?
And if she so clearly hated him, why did she talk to him? What was going on in her mind?
She was strong, she had her wits about her. She seemed confident, yet not overconfident. She refused to talk about herself, her past. Yet when she really talked, she talked like a smart and perceptive person.
As he sat there, on that bench, just thinking about her, and his problems, a ridiculous thought occurred to him. What if she was his… other half?
As quickly as he had the thought, he dismissed it. The idea was simply preposterous. He had known her for less than a day. There was no way it could be.
As dawn fell over the Heart of Asteria, Feyre picked herself up. It had been nice, watching the fountain and the stars like that. Relaxing. She would come here in the future if she felt overwhelmed or murky.
But today she would walk around the city, enjoy herself as best as she could. Maybe towards the end of the day she would try to confront her problems. Maybe.
For now, she would try not to think of Tamlin or home. She would just have a good day.
Oh, and she would definitely keep her thoughts off Rhys.
Dawn. Rhys got up and mentally prepared for a busy day at work. His speech was tomorrow, and he hoped to impress new generations of Asterians. After all, that was what democracy was all about.
He would go to the palace, have breakfast, and get straight to work. Hopefully he had a cabinet meeting. He loved his cabinet for what they brought to the table. Four different people, four completely different perspectives. They all had their own ideas, mannerisms, subtleties. But between the five of them, they were like a family.
Yes, that would be his day. He would focus today. He would not think about girls.
Especially Feyre.
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I definitely had a lot of fun writing it! Some of my characters may be a bit OOC, but this is how I imagine them to be, not how they are. Again, y'all are entitled to your own opinion.
Have fun!