CHAPTER 6
Rhysand
I fly over the table to catch her just as she hits the ground. Feyre, my High Lady, my mate, wake up. I carry her over to the infirmary, the same way I carried her to the table. A medic takes her pulse immediately as I set her on the bed, knowing that she's the High Lady. "She's exhausted. She just passed out from exhaustion and dehydration. She'll wake up soon, no need to fret, my High Lord." She hadn't even been here one day, and there was already trouble arising to Feyre. Just then, the entire inner circle comes rushing in, speaking all at once.
"Is she okay?"
"Did she hurt herself?"
"Did something happen to her in the Spring Court? Or the meeting?"
"Was she pregnant?"
The last question comes from Amren. I immediately look over to the medic, who shakes her head. I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding. Was I worried that Feyre was pregnant? Would I want a child? I realized I wouldn't want a child until the world was okay again—I didn't want another weakness, even if it would be my strength. "No," I finally say. "She isn't pregnant." Amren chuckles. "Would've been nice to have a little Night Court baby."
"There—hopefully—will be one," I say to Amren. "One day." It was true. I did want a child, even if it gave other people something to hold against me, like Feyre. Feyre wakes up, saying groggily, "Be one what?" Before I say anything, Cassian starts.
"A little Night Court baby, with wings and pointed ears." I give him my special death glare. He just shrugs his shoulders, as if to say, "sorry, but I had to." Her eyes widened, and diverted between me, the medic, and her stomach. "Am I— "
"NO," I said quickly. "Thankfully. We don't want a child in a world with all this trouble." She looked relieved. "I also don't want to share you with anybody else just yet. Let's wait a century or two." She smiled, and started to get up, and as soon as she did I winnowed her to our bedroom. "Feyre, darling, as much as I want to see you up and about, you must get some rest. You woke up early this morning, and didn't have a sip of water or food until dinner today. You need to get some rest. Tomorrow is a big day." She sunk down into the king-sized bed, and fell asleep within a few minutes. I laid down next to her, realizing how tired I was when I closed my eyes. I dreamt of Feyre and 2 kids, in Velaris.
Feyre
I wake up the next morning, with Rhys's wings and arms around me. I wanted to stay snuggled up in his warm grasp, and citrus scent, but there was work to be done. I slowly took his hands off of my waist, getting up. But the blasted floorboard gave a creak, and Rhys shot up. "Good morning, High Lord," I said.
"Good morning, High Lady. We have lots of work to be done today." He then gave me the smirk I loved so much, and shot into the bathroom. "Hey!" I exclaimed.
"Sorry Feyre darling, but if you want the bathroom, you have to come with me, or after me." I knew it was already late, and didn't want to risk anyone waiting for me. He started to turn on the faucet for the bath before I said, "Wait!" and hopped in with him.
Feyre
"What the hell?" Rhys said, as he walked into the dining hall.
"Happy Birthday!" The entire inner circle, plus Lucien and my sisters were there, with a cake and streamers. I was surprised as well. "It's your birthday?" He blushed, which almost made me burst out laughing.
"625 years old to be exact!" Cassian exclaims. "Still the youngest of all of us!"
"It's your birthday?" I repeated. "And you didn't tell me, your mate about this?"
"I didn't—it wasn't—I don't—" He was stammering, and I cut him off with a gigantic kiss on his lips. We moved slowly, with grace, as if there was no one else in the room. As if we weren't High Lord and Lady—just a boy, and a girl. Well, a 625-year old boy and a 17-year old girl. After Azriel coughed, we embarrassly stopped, with our noses still touching. "Happy Birthday, my High Lord." I say. "Thank you, High Lady." Suddenly, Cassian yells again.
"That's not fair! The present she gave him is better than any present any of us will give!" Everyone starts laughing, myself included. I try to live in the moment, to not think about what's ahead of us. We eat the cake for breakfast, and get ready in our positions.
Rhysand
Feyre, Mor, Azriel, Cassian, Amren, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, and I are all in our positions in the stable room. The fight has begun, I thought. I smell the blood being lost from both sides.
As do I, Feyre sends through the bond.
Same here, Mor sends. We temporarily connected our minds so that we know what's going on. Is everyone ready to use their powers? Approval from all three Archaeon girls ring true in my head. We stand untied, hands of everyone interloped. We stay like that for a good minute, until Cassian breaks free, saying, "Are we really all that sappy?" Soon, we start laughing. We laugh so much that we don't even notice who comes into our view.
"Is it just me, or do I smell something rotten a few miles in front of us?" Feyre asks, nose scrunching up. I notice it too, and instinctively get near her. We do our line again. A familiar asshole with Tarquin and the King of Hybern come into our view—with no other soldiers to protect them. Feyre steps out and starts to speak, right when Tamlin growls, "Feyre." He obviously didn't notice Lucien yet.
"Well, well, well. You obviously didn't listen when I said to not come back to get me. Are you deaf? Or did the King just persuade your ears not to listen?" Tamlin growled at this insult to his ego. "For your information, I did hear what you said—I chose not to listen. Whenever he's around, you change your mind about how you feel about me. What about that month after we were at Hybern? You loved me then. When the meeting came, coincidently right after he came, you turned your back on me." He darted his eyes back and forth, finally spotting Lucien. He got his talons out, ready to kill—until Elain grew vines and made shackles for his hands. She looked surprised that she did, but not letting go. He fought, but the shackles only got tighter.
"It was only a matter of time until you turned your back on me too, Lucien." Tamlin sounded…disappointed. Heartbroken. Feyre started to look concerned, Cauldron bless her kind, caring heart. I held her hand, looping her fingers with mine. Lucien held his gaze, keeping his face neutral. "I didn't turn my back. I went over to the right side. The one where it didn't have a traitorous asshole brainwashing them." He shot the last sentence at the King. Tarquin coughed, to make everyone know that he was there. "Why do you speak so ill of the Hybern King? He wants to break the wall to make peace with the humans, right? He wants to make a team so that we can all rule peacefully. Isn't that the purpose of all of this?" Tarquin honestly believed that. His eyes proved how innocent he was. Poor Tarquin. Lucky he doesn't remember giving us the red ruby paperweight thing.
Why don't we just change Tarquin's mind to our side? Feyre asked.
Everyone will notice. They'll just wage a bigger war. But that doesn't mean we can't change all of their minds. Mainly the King. Feyre sent concern through the bond.
Be careful Rhys. You don't know what the King will do, or what he can do. He thought he could break our mating bond, and almost hurt both of us.
Don't worry Feyre darling. I love you, My mate, My High Lady.
I love you, my mate, death incarnate, night triumphant.
I shuffle through the King's mind, the shield easily giving way, as if he wanted me into his head.
He wanted me into his head.
Before I could get out, his shield snapped shut, trapping me inside. No no no no no. I looked through the King's vision. My body was standing still, not moving. Feyre was moving me, shaking me, trying to wake me from my trance, but to no prevail. I tried to send messages, send feelings through the bond—nothing. My body had fallen to the ground, and everyone—from Mor to Elain, Azriel to Nesta, Lucien included—crowding over me—no, my body, not noticing the King rip the vines holding Tamlin.
Not noticing Tamlin and the king slowly creeping up on them.
Not noticing Tamlin holding a dagger in his hand.
Not noticing his hand outstretched to Mor's back.
Not noticing until the tip of the blade just barely touches her spine, before Azriel pushes him, strangles him. Azriel seems to be winning, until Tamlin takes out his talons and scratches every part of Azriel. Feyre instantly froze Tamlin in place, using power I've never seen before. She froze him like an ice cube. Even the king was surprised. Then someone lifted my body off the ground, and held a dagger to my face—the beautiful face that Feyre loved.
It was Tarquin.
