AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Just before we get started, I just want to thank everyone who left a reviews. They were all so sweet!
As usual, a huge thank you to my beta reader, Kayleigh!
Also (if you read this) - mangomaus : thanks for your comment! I actually do a lot of research and spend a lot of time trying to come up with names for my characters so I'm so happy to hear that you thought they were fitting!
Please leave reviews (they really do motivate me!) Ok without further ado, here you go!
"And she wouldn't stop crying! Children can be terrible," Brielle groaned, recounting the story of a certain customer who's daughter threw a tantrum — a very loud tantrum in the middle of the boutique — when her mother refused to buy her another bracelet. The daughter had been far too old (instead of being 5, as Brielle and Nesta had originally thought, the child seemed to be about 11) and the embarrassed mother had ended up purchasing the bracelet to quiet the child.
Brielle seemed to realize who she was talking to, and added, "No offense."
"None taken," Khoniya replied mildly. At Brielle's glance, Nesta nodded as well.
It was another Saturday night, and the three females were gathered at Brielle's house for their third dinner together. This dinner, where Nesta had met Khoniya only two weeks prior, had unspokenly become a weekly tradition that each of them looked forward to.
However, at the moment, Nesta was far too preoccupied recalling the child's behavior to enjoy the food or the company. Well that was a lie. The food was impossible not to savour. Perhaps in another life or even later on in this life, since they were all immortal, Brielle would become a cook. Still, Nesta couldn't enjoy the food as much as usual. She had just realized that despite all the books she'd read about dealing with pregnancy and a few she'd begun about what infants needed in their first few months, she had absolutely no idea how to raise a child. Children weren't like robots; they almost never listened to their parents and loved to be irrational. There was nothing to ensure that her child wouldn't be exactly like the one in the shop.
"It's what happens when you spoil your kids," Khoniya noted, but then muttered, "It's tough being a mom though. We shouldn't judge her."
"I wasn't trying to judge!" Brielle replied defensively.
Khoniya made a noncommittal noise and took another bite of food.
Brielle, who had finished eating, went to the kitchen to make some tea and get dessert.
Khoniya's gaze fell on Nesta. She was silent, but her expression showed that she knew that Nesta was troubled by something and she wanted to hear her thoughts.
"I have no idea how to raise a child," Nesta admitted. "How are you supposed to take a baby and turn it into a moral, functioning hu- fae?"
"I don't think anyone really knows the answer," Brielle smiled gently. "Everyone's scared of messing up but we all do our best."
"But I don't have a clue!" Nesta's tone somewhat betrayed her frantic emotions.
"I can only tell you what I know, based on my childhood and, I suppose, my son. But Yaran is still two years old and he's my firstborn. I don't know how he'll turn out or who he'll become or if anything I'm doing is even remotely correct. I just try to do the best I can each and every day," Khoniya explained calmly. "One tip I can give you is to take care of yourself. Just do one thing for yourself every day: play an instrument, go for a walk, eat something delicious, draw, whatever you like to do to relax. No matter how patient you are, kids will make you run out of patience. The only way to be the kind of parent you want to be is to take care of yourself so that you have enough rationality to look past your anger and disappointment and frustration, and remember that your child is still a child."
For some reason, Nesta had the urge to take notes.
"As for becoming moral, functioning beings… That's a whole other complex issue, isn't it? You want your kids to be happy and generous but not spoiled. They should be humble but have self-confidence, kind but not weak or passive, strong but not intimidating or bullying. I try to teach my son but, well, I also have to remind myself that no one's perfect and that it's okay for him to mess up." Khoniya's eyes shifted and she left out a small sigh. "You have a job, so it may be different. For me, I love staying at home and taking care of my family. But also Yaran is my whole world and when he messes up, I feel like it reflects badly on me, especially sin-" She cleared her throat. "But anyway, for now, I like who my son is becoming and I know that even though I do mess up from time to time, I'm doing my best at parenting."
"But how do you know what to do? How do you teach them to be good?"
Khoniya shrugged. "My family used to tell us fables and tales. At the time, we all thought they were just stories but looking back, there were many lessons in those stories that we all took to heart. I tell Yaran some of those stories."
Nesta nodded.
Khoniya asked, "Did your family tell stories as well?"
"I think my mother told us stories when we were very young," Nesta responded slowly as she tried to recall. "She would sit with us and tell us one tale each night before we went to sleep." She could only recall a few bits and pieces of the stories.
"I have learned a lot from stories, though," Nesta added, not wanting the conversation to fall stagnant (although silent lulls were rarely awkward with Khoniya). "I used to devour books as a child. I still do enjoy it quite a bit, although the material I read now is less… educational."
To be completely honest, Nesta had learned quite a bit from the romance novels and smut she'd read, although it was more about human sexuality and sexual acts rather than morality.
"I see," Khoniya said politely. Her tone seemed a bit off. Perhaps because Nesta hadn't really given her anywhere to take the conversation.
While Nesta didn't pride herself on conversational skills, books, at least, were something she could discuss for ages without getting tired.
"What sort of books do you like?"
Khoniya froze. She looked like a small animal, paralysed as to not alert the predators of her presence. As if she stayed still enough, the attention would shift elsewhere.
But Brielle was still preparing dessert, and Khoniya and Nesta were alone.
The latter waited quietly, trying to grasp what had triggered such a reaction from the red-haired female.
Khoniya's eyes ran across Nesta's body, studying her. She seemed to have found whatever answer she was looking for. Her eyes were focused on the wall right next to Nesta's head as she spoke. "I don't read many books." Her quiet voice was strained, as though forcing those 5 words from her throat in an audible tone was a great effort.
Perhaps Khoniya was poor, Nesta realized with a start. She had never visited Khoniya's home, and had no idea… Perhaps she was like Nesta, who had devoured the same books over and over after her family had lost their wealth, even on a rare occasion resorting to secret borrowing — although the more accurate term for what she had done, her borrowing of books without the owners' knowledge and failure to return said item, was stealing.
Nesta felt that perhaps she should apologize, if only for making this female — who had never failed to make Nesta feel welcomed — uncomfortable. Khoniya's expression, however, made Nesta decide to remain silent rather than interrupt whatever the female was making an effort to voice.
"It is difficult for me," Khoniya uttered carefully. "I can write my name and sign documents. I can read street signs and addresses. And of course I can read prices. But it is difficult for me to read. I was not taught to do so in my youth, and even though I have learned bits and pieces, sometimes deliberately, sometimes just due to circumstance, I am not," she paused, choosing her words with great consideration, "adept at the art of letters. So I do not read books unless I am obliged to. It takes far too long and I do not find pleasure in the activity, only frustration."
Nesta had not considered that Khoniya — who was not bubbly like Brielle or tumultuous like Nesta, but was warm like a cup of soothing herbal tea that was surprisingly sweet — could be illiterate. And she cursed her own naiveté. Nesta wanted to believe that she'd grown up and changed for the better, that she was no longer so blind and yet here she was again. Nesta, who hadn't realized her own sister's illiteracy, who hadn't bothered to make sure her sister could write her own names as she escaped between the pages of books, had not even entertained the possibility that the female before her was any less than perfectly literate. How foolish to think that her eyes had been opened, to think that she'd grown, improved. How ego-centric.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize," Nesta replied in a low tone, her mouth dry.
"Oh, no, it's not your fault. There's no way you could've known," Khoniya reassured.
How was it possible that Khoniya was reassuring Nesta, when Nesta's ignorant assumptions had caused Khoniya to have to admit a secret she clearly didn't want to talk about? Nesta wondered if the female before her would ever stop being such a marvelous conundrum.
In fact, Khoniya looked more at ease as she reassured Nesta, like she was glad to be able to put the blame on herself.
"I don't tell very many people. I can get by well enough that most people don't notice, and even if they do, I can get by on a slight excuse."
Why would Khoniya be willing to trust Nesta, of all people, with such an intimate piece of herself was something Nesta could not understand. Nesta was a storm of insecurities, anger, and facades. Since Nesta did not employ the latter in front of Brielle and Khoniya, they glimpsed the doubts and fears that plagued her. Why would you trust a hurricane with a dandelion puff?
"It's a little embarrassing." Khoniya's frame relaxed, fully deciding to reveal this part of herself to Nesta. "I'm way over 200 years old, you know, getting closer to 300 than I'd like to admit. But I spent a large part of that time with my family, and then I was young and falling in love and travelling and having an adventure." Her amber eyes sparkled. Then darkened as she continued. "Then Amarantha happened, and then the war… and then I was pregnant. I learned along the way, here and there, but there was never really a perfect time or a need."
Khoniya's vertical pupils met Nesta's rounded ones.
"Do you want to?" The question emerged from Nesta's throat without her permission. She had no right to ask such things, to demand an answer when she didn't even know what question she was posing. Do you want to learn? To practice? To read books?
Khoniya pressed her lips together, contemplating, and then replied, "I think I would like to know how to write and read letters to my son with ease. Someday."
Her tone was wistful. It seemed to be touched by sadness, like an agreeable autumn breeze that rustled pleasantly through the multicolored leaves, that served as a reminder of the harsh winter storms to come.
"If you'd like to, I have books at my house." The words were tumbling out once more. Where was the filter she'd constructed over the last quarter of a century?
"I wouldn't want to impose."
"Okay." Nesta didn't want to impose. Khoniya was the type of female who would never refuse outright. Nesta's ridiculous proposal could have offended her — after all, Nesta was no teacher. This was why she needed to control herself more in front of these females.
"I have to take care of Yaran." Khoniya's tone was not one of an excuse; in fact, she seemed rather regretful.
"He can come too, if you'd like. Or if you'd prefer not to, I understand." Nesta's voice was more controlled now.
Khoniya seemed lost. "I'm… That is extremely generous of you, to allow us into your home and to aid me. I'm honored. But what would I offer you in return?"
"I don't need anything." Nesta's brow crinkled at the unexpected question.
"I consider you to be my friend," Khoniya said after a minute. "I don't know if you feel the same, but that is what you are in my mind."
Nesta nodded. She willed her face not to betray her joy at Khoniya's words, but her lips twitched.
"I cannot take from my friends without giving back. To take your aid in this way without any repayment would, for me, be a desecration of our relation."
Nesta had a somewhat different view on the matter, but Khoniya's tone conveyed that her principles could not be changed. There was no convincing her on this issue.
Perhaps Nesta and Khoniya were more alike than she'd originally believed.
"Your company is repayment enough," Nesta declared. When the redhead did not seem persuaded, Nesta continued, "I live alone. I have not had visitors in a very long time. Besides, I learn so much from you."
Nesta gained knowledge from Khoniya. But her interaction with Khoniya and Brielle also helped her get closer to becoming a better version of herself — one that she could confront without disgust and hatred's claws digging into her.
"I suppose I can teach you what little I know about pregnancy and children, if it helps," Khoniya considered. "But would you not be able to find that same information, and much more in a book?"
"It's not the same." Nesta hoped that the other female would sense the sincerity in her tone. It was true: a few minutes of Khoniya speaking had eased her worries far more than weeks of reading pregnancy books (which, while informative, sometimes only served to increase her anxiety on the matter).
"All right," Khoniya agreed after another moment. "When would you be willing to host me?"
Nesta recited her work hours and added in the appointment date.
"One of the evenings, then." Khoniya tilted her head and her eyes unfocused. Her face seemed to be concentrated. Nesta had no idea why the female had suddenly gone quiet.
"Are you okay?" Nesta inquired. Khoniya didn't answer. In fact it seemed that she didn't hear her.
Suddenly, she slipped out of her trance, and said, "Would Tuesday be okay? That way, Elian could take care of Yaran sometimes if needed."
Nesta blinked in surprise before nodding. How had they communicated so fast? A thought struck her. "Are you and Elian…mates?"
"Oh, yes. Sorry, I forgot I hadn't told you."
Brielle chose that moment to finally emerge from the kitchen. The reason for her prolonged absence was revealed as an intricate tart and a platter of a large selection of fruits.
One advantage of being fae, Nesta thought to herself as the discussion moved on the topic of the best bakery in Velaris, was that you could eat fae fruit. And all other fae food. Life wouldn't be complete without having tasted Brielle's cooking.
On the Tuesday before Nesta's healer's appointment, Nesta and Khoniya sat in Nesta's small home. It was their second meeting. Khoniya had already finished copying down the sentences (she'd dictated the sentences, Nesta had written them down, and then she'd copied them twice on a separate sheet of paper) and had also finished reading aloud the second chapter of the book Nesta had recommended.
Nesta had asked Brielle about communication parchment, and the female had explained where to buy some. Nesta had therefore given Khoniya one piece and told her that she could write to Nesta whenever she wished to practice. The female had been extremely touched.
Nesta had also shared a few worrisome questions she'd had about pregnancy and parenthood, which Khoniya calmly answered. The evening was dying down as Nesta asked, "Do you have a random tip that you think is important?"
Khoniya did not question the strange question. Pondering for a moment, she answered, "Start preparing ahead of time. Don't wait till the last few months to panic and baby proof your house. You don't need to do it all at once, of course, but start thinking about what you'll need not just in the first few months, but also when they start crawling and eventually walking. You don't need to do it all, but have a plan. Because after the baby comes, you'll be exhausted. Even though you'll inevitably have to change or at least add to the plan, having something helps with peace of mind, at least for me."
"Is it really that tiring?" Nesta's brow crinkled. "I know that infants need to be fed every few hours, including at night, and that they cry a lot but they also sleep alot, don't they?"
Khoniya laughed slightly. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough. They sleep but only at the most inopportune moments. Or you think they're finally asleep, and try to put them down into the crib, only for them to wake up. Elian and I alternated putting him to bed and we tried to split up the tasks. I mean, obviously I had to feed him." She grinned, and nesta smirked back. "But Elian dealt with his, ah, waste and also usually bathed him. We were both exhausted for those first few months."
"Did you always know Elian was your mate?" Nesta couldn't stop the question. She knew it wasn't on topic, but matehood was a fae subject she knew every little about, and there was no one else she could speak to beside Brielle who, as far as Nesta knew, wasn't mated.
Khoniya did not seem phased by the shift in subject.
"It's funny you ask. Elian and I met about, oh, almost 200 years ago, when his family came to the Autumn Court. His father had come on some business and brought his family along. He and his siblings were allowed to go 'exploring' while their father was engaged in meeting. Their mother, I think, was taking care of the youngest sibling who was still around 7 years of age at the time. Anyway, Elian and his siblings decided to have a competition to find the 'coolest secret spot'," Khoniya rolled her eyes, a fond yet exasperated expression on her face. "They were not even that young. The oldest was around, hmm, 70, I think. Elian himself was over 40 – 46 to be exact."
"How old were you?"
"I was 39. Anyway, the five siblings decided to split up and meet back later to compare these 'cool secret locations'." Cue another eye roll. "And of course, Elian, who has a horrible sense of direction, got lost. He was just wandering around and he reached the field where I was working. He was lost, so he kept pacing back and forth. I thought he was a little creepy at first for lingering in my field, but I just decided to ignore him, because, well, what was I going to do?" Khoniya shrugged a shoulder, answering her own question. "So I kept working, and then he called out to me, but I continued to ignore him. So apparently he decided it was a good idea to winnow right next to me and put a hand on my shoulder to get my attention."
"I take it you were startled?"
"I thought he was going to attack me or something. I turned around, claws out and everything, for him to ask, "Do you know any cool secret locations? Also, where are we?" Most underwhelming experience of my life," Khoniya joked.
"Claws?" Nesta asked, confused.
Khoniya's eyes widened for a second, her vertical pupils darting across the room. "I have retractable claws," she said, lifting one of her hands. It seemed like a normal hand alabaster until suddenly, sharp, dark claws appeared over her nails. A moment later, her hand returned to its original state.
"It's, um, one of my, um, features. As a Lesser Fae." Khoniya seemed very uncomfortable with the topic, so Nesta just asked, "What happened afterwards?" Khoniya visibly brightened, her slumped shoulders straightening.
"I told him where we were, asked him where he had to get back to, and gave him directions, but he kept demanding that I tell him a secret spot. I pointed out that it wouldn't be a secret if I told him, but he was like "You can trust me! I won't tell anyone! Well except my siblings…" At which point I told him to leave because I was in the middle of working. He agreed to leave but said he would find out about the secret spot." Khoniya had a small smile on her face as she recounted the memory. "He came back the next day, and the next. So finally I took him to a semi-secret spot that my sister and I used to hang out in when we were tired and needed to rest in the shade."
"What kind of spot was it?"
"It was like a large, hollow tree in a small clearing. It could fit the two of us somewhat comfortably."
"And then?" Nesta prompted, engrossed in the tale.
"Well, he met me there everyday after I finished working, but then he had to go back to Velaris. He came back with his father a couple years later, and we met up again. That was when we really became friends. He had to leave again, of course. But he found excuses to come to the Autumn Court and visited me alot." Khoniya was blushing slightly. "He started courting me. But then our families found out." Her face fell.
"They didn't approve?" Nesta asked, trying not to overstep, but still curious.
She paused, debating whether to reveal another piece of information to Nesta, then continued, "His family didn't like that he was with a Lesser Fae, especially one from another court – at the time, Autumn Court wasn't yet particularly hated. But they didn't mind that much as long as it was just a fling. They assumed Elian would either grow bored of me, or was with me in the first place just for, ah, sexual satisfaction. So they disapproved, but didn't really try to make us end our relationship. My family on the other hand…" She sighed. "Someone in my family fell in love with a High Fae and it ended in their death."
Nesta met Khoniya's eyes. "I'm sorry."
Khoniya nodded. "Yeah, so they believed that any relationship between a Lesser Fae and High fae would only end in tragedy for the Lesser Fae. I tried to convince them that Elian truly cared for me, that he would never do anything to me or allow any harm to come to me, but they always said that it didn't matter. That I'd still end up getting destroyed."
Khoniya's eyes dropped to the floor. "In the end, I ran away. I had a conversation the day before with my cousin, hinting at what I would do. They know I came to Velaris; there was nowhere else I would go." She rolled her lips. "I tried to convince them for so many years, you know. But they ignored it. They even tried to set up an engagement with another Lesser Fae male." She sighed. "I hated losing my family. If I thought that anything could have changed their minds, I would have stayed. But I couldn't allow myself to be bound to some male. And after trying to explain for decades why they should let me be happy, I no longer had any hope. So I decided that Elian would be my new family."
It was dark outside, and although Nesta's house was illuminated, it was still far dimmer than it had been when natural light had streamed through the window. Khoniya's eyes glowed softly against the darkness.
"That worked out," Nesta noted.
Khoniya nodded. "Yes. But we still faced many struggles. As I mentioned, his family was okay with it being a casual liaison, but did not like it being serious, which became a problem since we lived together. Anyway, back to your original question – sorry the answer got so long-winded by the way – after about two decades together here in Velaris, on the anniversary of our first meeting, we were… laying in bed," Khoniya's pink cheeks told Nesta everything she needed to know about what had occurred prior to laying in bed, "and then the bond just snapped into place. I know most females would be delighted to find out that the love of their life is their mate but I was not. Well, in a certain sense I was, but I was overwhelmed by doubts surrounding our relationship. I was afraid that our 'accidental meeting' was in truth, him seeking me out because I was his mate."
Nesta refrained from saying that she could understand the sentiment.
"But when I calmed down, he explained that the bond had only snapped in place for him two months prior, when I had stayed up late waiting for him to get home. Before that, he had suspected it, but had thought that it would have snapped into place earlier if it were there – which was what I had also thought."
Khoniya and Nesta chatted for a few more minutes before Khoniya set out to go home. She thanked Nesta profusely (unnecessarily, in Nesta's opinion) then put her hair in a bun, wrapped a scarf around her head, and put on a pair of sunglasses. At Nesta's questioning glance, she explained, "My eyes glow too noticeably at night if I don't wear these."
"Is it bad? For your glowing eyes to be noticed?"
"It's better to be safe than sorry, especially when you have a child," Khoniya replied simply.
She pulled Nesta in for a hug and then disappeared into the night.
The next day, as Nesta wrapped her arms around Cassian, her body was not taut the way it had been one month prior. Instead, her muscles loosened and her body relaxed as she breathed in his familiar scent — inadvertently of course.
Neither of them mentioned it, but they both noticed that their bodies did not fit together exactly the same as last month. It was due to Nesta's growing tummy, which could still be somewhat hidden with the right kind of clothing, but was impossible to ignore in this position.
"Has your nausea continued?" Cassian enquired.
"No, I've been feeling much better, actually."
"That's good."
Nesta refused to let the uncomfortable feeling that accompanied stagnant conversation win. Cassian was obviously going to be around her more and more often, and as long as he upheld his promises, there was no need to make it harder for both of them — especially for the baby's sake.
"How have you been?"
Cassian tried to disguise his jolt of surprise at her question as an air current.
"I've been alright. A bit busy, you know, training new recruits, organising female legions, crushing rebellions, the usual," he winked. "What about you, sweetheart?"
"Don't call me that," she replied instinctively before cringing at herself. She had been trying to make things less tense…
But Cassian just chuckled. Nesta huffed, hiding her relief.
After the appointment, where the healer had told them that "everything was progressing nicely", Cassian flew them home. Well, he flew them towards Nesta's house, and was a couple minutes away when she caught a sweet scent. Her stomach grumbled, despite her having eaten two large meals. Cassian's fae ears picked up the noise.
"Are you hungry?"
"The lemon tart smells very good," Nesta admitted.
Cassian brought them down in front of the vendor.
He bought them each a slice, tipping the vendor generously, and handed her one piece. She gobbled hers down, forgetting his presence and getting lost in the sweet and tangy deliciousness of the pastry.
When she looked up, Cassian was staring at her with a coy smile.
She raised an eyebrow at him. What?
Nothing sweetheart, his expression replied. He held out his slice. He had only taken a few bites. "Do you want mine?"
Nesta's face remained unchanged, but she hesitated. He had paid for the food, and she didn't want to deprive him of-
"Here." He cut the slice into 2 pieces, and handed her the larger one. Before she could protest, he bit into his own piece.
She rolled her eyes but took the other piece gratefully.
He looked smug as they flew to her house. She sent him a sharp, questioning glance.
"So that's what cravings are like, huh?" His voice was entirely too jovial.
Nesta didn't bother to reply, since he already knew the answer.
Upon landing, Nesta wordlessly unlocked her door and entered. It took her a second to notice that Cassian hadn't followed her, and was instead standing right outside the open door. She shot him a look and he entered, shutting the door behind him.
They sat down at the table, in the same position as one month prior.
They both stared at each other in silence, daring the other one to speak, until-
"Are you-"
"Have you-"
They both began at the same time and then paused.
Go ahead, his eyes conveyed.
Just say whatever you wanted to say, her look responded.
Cassian bowed first. "Have you had a lot of cravings recently?"
"Yes, I think so. The other day, I ate a whole bag of potatoes, after boiling them. And last week, I ate fish for dinner every night. I've also been craving macarons, of course. The ones at the shop are delicious," Nesta disclosed.
"What shop?"
His tone was light but the question itself was heavy, though he had no way of knowing. She hadn't exactly been trying to hide her job but she also didn't want people (the Inner Circle) to know about it. There was no reason to hide it from Cassian, since if he were going to reveal her secrets, this would not be the one he'd choose. But her job, and her relationship with Brielle and Khoniya was something independent of everyone else in her life, and part of her wanted to keep it that way.
But so far Cassian had not shown up to her house unannounced, so perhaps, as long as she was vague, she could answer his question without worrying about him invading that semi-sacred part of her life.
Maybe sacred wasn't the right word, but to be friends with 2 females she admired greatly who did not fear her sharp edges or her tempest of emotions, and to know that she bond with them was not out of a sense of obligation for the blood they'd once shared or their desire to make others happy… to know that they were friends with her because they wanted to be, and to be sure that, despite the short amount of time they'd known each other, no matter how badly Nesta fucked up her relationship with her sisters or Cassian, they'd have her back, was wholly new. Nesta found that not only did she enjoy it, it made her feel more confident in herself. As if she'd found a place here, in her sister's city, where she'd felt unwelcomed and undeserving (and as always, like a burden).
She did not want to give Cassian the power to take that all away. But she didn't want to appear cold and uncaring either.
She almost laughed at herself. The Nesta of a few months ago would have slapped her. She had been trying so hard not to let her unfeeling mask crack. Now, however, she just wanted to have a comfortable enough relationship with the male in front of her so that her child could be raised by two parents who weren't constantly bickering.
Her worries and anger at Cassian had far from disappeared; however, it was not as though she needed to be in a romantic relationship with him. Just a functional one (semi-functional would probably be a more realistic goal).
"The shop where I work," Nesta decided to reveal. "I get free macarons. Best perk, in my opinion."
Cassian chuckled. His hazel eyes shone with interest. He clearly wanted to pry, but refrained from doing so. Nesta felt a sudden wave of relief at his discretion.
"Have you always liked macarons?"
"I used to eat them at parties when I was a child. We weren't allowed to eat too many, because that would be impolite, but once I snuck a few in my dress to eat at home."
Her tone then hardened. "I didn't eat them after my father's business failed, of course. We were no longer invited to those types of parties and didn't have the kind of money to spend on such frivolous things." Nesta bit her tongue to refrain from adding, though I'm sure you've heard all about our struggles with poverty and my uselessness from my darling sister and High Lady, Feyre.
"Yeah, macarons are pretty pricey. I never ate one till I was, like, 200 years old," Cassian mentioned casually. His serious expression told her that he knew her childhood was a sensitive topic and he was grateful that she was willing to talk about it with him.
"The first time I ate chocolate, I thought it was the food of the gods," Cassian added.
"How old were you?"
If Cassian was surprised that Nesta was willing to show that she was interested in learning about him, he hid it.
"I must have been a teenager. Maybe 14? 15? Rhysand's mother gave it to us. Rhysand was used to it, but I had no idea what it was. I'd never eaten something that color before besides, like, bread and rice, so I was a bit hesitant to try it. I didn't tell them it was my first time trying it, but I'm pretty sure Rhys' mom knew."
Cassian smiled fondly but somewhat sadly.
Nesta suddenly recalled her mother's large hands — had they truly been large, or had Nesta simply been small? — dusting off the dirt from Elain's scraped knees and kissing them to make them all better. Mothers could be truly magical at times.
She was going to be a mother. The realization struck her again. Each time, it surprised her, though at this point she should have already gotten used to the idea — right?
Was she expected to be a kind, warm, guiding presence that magically knew exactly what her child needed?
Sensing her rising panic, Cassian switched the topic to one he knew would bring her a sense of calm and familiarity. "So, did you end up finishing that book that we discussed last time?"
"Yes, I did."
"Would you mind telling me the rest of the story, sweetheart?"
The glare she sent his way was clearly not heartfelt as she dove back into the tale.
"The real female went to go see the Dream Spinster, to trade her dreams for his comfort and freedom…"
A/N: That's it! Hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought!
I know it was a little heavy on the backstory of my OC, but I hope you find it interesting (and I promise it's all important stuff for the story).
Thanks to each and every one of you who bothered to read this! I know my chapters just keep getting longer (oops) but I love writing this story and I'm trying to do as much as possible over the summer.
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PS: I made a book tok so PM me or leave a review if you're interested!