Note: Sorry it's so late! I'm starting to wrap this story up, with school and orchestra and taking up most of my time. I'll have new stories in 2017, but I'll finish this one first. I might finish this before ACOWAR releases, because I don't want this confusing the real story, so, yeah, I'm trying my best to finish this. Sorry for all the cliff-hanger endings! ;)

CHAPTER 9

Feyre

Loosely hanging on to the arms of Tamlin, I walk down a series of aisles.

Blind-folded.

The dining hall, even if an asshole of King lived here, was magnificent. It had a chandelier that was at least 15 feet, a table that was the length of the chandelier, and at the foot of it, a podium and a stage.

Tamlin let go of me and took off the blindfold. I was staring into his hideous green eyes as he said, "You might not like why everyone is gathered here, but we thought you would want to be here."

"Whatever this place is here for, I want no part of it. Plus, who would give me a dress like this?" It was an ugly, vomit green—apparently to complement Tamlin's eyes, whoch were also a hideous vomit green.

"Believe me, you want to be here." He sat me down, and a priestess—no surprise, Ianthe—walked up to the podium.

"Hello citizens, prisoners, and guests of Hybern," she looked at me as she said the next part. "We are gathered here today for the funeral of High Lord of Night Court, Rhysand."

They. Did. Not.

My mate, my mate, my mate—

I tried to get out of the clutches of my former lover, but he just held tight and said, "Sorry Feyre, but I had the pleasure of whipping that sorry ass of his into oblivion. He had no pulse, so we declared him dead. The least I could do was give you a funeral—since you were his 'mate'." I wriggled, pinched, and tried burning his hands—to no avail. I felt my throat close up, and tears well in my eyes.

"If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. I couldn't stop thinking it over and over as you screamed, as I tried to kill her: you were my mate, my mate, my mate." (quote from ACOMAF)

My mate, my mate, my mate—

I would burn Ianthe. I would freeze the King. I would send Tamlin to the darkest parts of hell.

I couldn't cry, not now. Not with my enemies here.

"Since there isn't anything to say about the prisoner, other than good riddance, we would like his mate, Feyre Cursebreaker, High Lady of the Night Court, to come up and say a few words."

She stared at me as I got onto the stage—with soldiers flanking me left and right—as I went onto the podium. I got my cool, nightmare-like demeanor, and started crying in front of the crowd.

"I don't have a speech ready; what should I say? He was my mate, but we had only just started to accept it. He knew from the moment I turned into Fae, perhaps before but I—at the moment—thought I loved Tamlin. I was wrong, and when Tamlin locked me up in his castle," I paused, and wiped my tears for effect, "when he locked me into his castle, saying that I was to stay there and act like a doll, playing dress-up, I suffocated. I would've died, and Tamlin wouldn't have cared, because I was there to be a poster girl." My gods, the audience was eating all this up so fast, they should've been dizzy. Tamlin glared at me, like the fool he was.

"Thankfully, Rhys saved me from that wretched place, and I fell in love with Rhys before I even knew we were mates. I'll always love him, and know that he was my equal, my High Lord. I only wish that he was here to watch me burn this place to the ground." I threw a ball of fire to the banner of the Hybern flag.

I ran into Ianthe, knocking her down, before the soldiers came at me. I fought them, using fire, ice, water, air, darkness—anything that was in reach. I burned them, froze them, turned them into a black fog. They killed my mate, and they weathered a cataclysm.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me," Rhys—that lovable prick—walked up behind me. All the soldiers stopped fighting, and stared as if he came back to life. "Sorry, but coming back to life isn't my trick, it's my mate's. I couldn't steal that away from her—I'm not that shallow." He stepped over all the ashes and the frozen ice cubes, claiming the throne. "And since I killed the King of Hybern, I guess this throne—and all its land—belong to me."

Rhysand

"And since I killed the King of Hybern, I guess this throne—and all of its land—belong to me."

All the soldiers stared, falling onto their knees one by one, until Ianthe, Tamlin, and Tarquin were the only ones left standing. Feyre showed her surprise for only a moment, then slid in to my lap. "And since I am your mate, wife, and High Lady, I have a place on this throne as well." Tamlin's nose started to flare so much I was afraid Feyre would get sucked into it.

"What do you suppose we do with these fools, darling?" Feyre said teasingly.

"What do you suppose we do with these bastards, darling?"

"I say we block their magic, starve them for two weeks, then make them servants. After all, that's what they did to me."

"I agree, Feyre, but where should we make them servants? Night Court or Hybern?"

"I say that Tamlin goes to the Night Court and Ianthe stays here in Hybern." She stared at Tarquin for a long while, before pointing her finger at him and ordered, "Speak."

"I serve the Summer Court. No one else," he took a deep breath before speaking. "However, I may offer an alliance between Hybern and the Night Court."

"You already have an alliance with Hybern, you bastard. But as of now, no walls will be broken, and Prythian will be controlled by all High Lords. Minus Tamlin. Feyre now owns all your land of the Spring Court."

"WHAT?" yelled Tamlin. "You have NO right to do that! I'll—I—You will pay for this."

"With what? The rest of the tools in your shed?" Feyre starts to laugh. "Cornelia and Roman, take them away."

"But—what about the Summer Court?" asked Tarquin

"You can be assured that it is well taken care for. You can go back in 3 weeks, after you have spent your time here." He slumped, and instantly turned to hit Tamlin.

"This is all your fault! Why can't you just stay away from the High Lady? She obviously doesn't love you, and she obviously isn't you mate! So stop wasting your time, cry yourself a bridge, and GET OVER IT." He stomped out, with soldiers following him. Tamlin, shocked by this accusation, came towards Feyre, a sad, pathetic look on his face. "Do you really love him?" he said quietly. "Did you ever really love me?"

Feyre thought, then looked at him as though he was a homeless dog hit by a horse. "If I hadn't loved you, I wouldn't of became High Fae, would I? What a ridiculous question to ask, Tamlin. Under the Mountain, all I wanted was to save you. But did you try to save yourself? No, I did everything, fought and died, and you still—still, even with magic and super-speed Fae powers—think I'm a helpless deer. You used me, drowned me, cheated me. You're a tool, Tamlin. You need somebody who is helpless, who is selfish, who is a consort of the Spring Court, not somebody who wants to be High Lady. Not only that, you have to face the facts. Do you have water manipulation abilities?" Head shake. "Do you have the power to crush another Fae's mind with your head?" Another head shake. "I thought so."

"To answer your first question, Tamlin," Feyre takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes and starts to lecture. "I do love Rhys. No matter what you believe, he is mate, my equal, my death incarnate." She took my hand in hers and smiled at me. "And as that may anger you, I no longer care for your opinion. You are not my father, nor do you have any relation to me, other than me having a tiny bit of your power. I don't care about your judgment. I love Rhysand, and I am the High Lady of the Night Court, the most powerful and mysterious of all the courts. Rhysand and I are the most powerful High Fae of all time, and I think you can only imagine what our children will be like."

Wait, what? Children? I think.

Just go with it.

"When you locked me in the palace, all those months ago, Rhysand wasn't the villain. He saved from that place. I would've went insane, or even died in the darkness of my power if Rhysand didn't save me. Not only that, he didn't kidnap me. He legally got me away using Morrigan, and when I got better asked me if I wanted to go back. Would you have done that if you were in his place?

"Rhysand has known I was his mate for a long time, and he felt the connection break between me and him when Amarantha killed me. He willed all the High Fae, including you, to send some of their power into me. I only found out that he was my mate two months ago! He knew for almost 20 years. He didn't tell me that I was his mate. I found out from the Suriel. He didn't tell me because he didn't want me to be pressured into loving him. Only after did I accept and became the High Lady. So guess what? I do love him. What do you say about that?"

He doesn't say anything, only nodding his head.

"Come on, Tamlin. There aren't that many wrong answers

Tamlin finally starts speaking. "I—I allow it."

Feyre shows astonishment in her face, but only lets it get her for a moment. She smirks, saying, "Looks like you are that stupid. Wrong three words, buddy." She waves her hand and Tamlin swirls up in the darkness, before evaporating completely.

"Feyre…where did you learn that trick?" I say, completely bedazzled. "Where did you send him?" It had taken me over a decade to learn that trick. How had she learned that in a few months?

"I had a lot of spare time at the palace. And as of now, he is in the middle of the ocean separating Hybern and Prythia. Maybe we'll see him on the way home!"

"You can learn that, but yet you're nervous to winnow?"

"Yes, but—"

Before she could finish her sentence, an onyx coffin with illegible symbols in blood whirls in the same place Tamlin was just standing. A blood-covered girl walks out, scars all over her back and arms, and says, "Don't hurt me," before falling face down on the floor.