I couldn't stop thinking about how the rest of this conversation would have gone so here it is...
I took Rhys's hand, and his thumb brushed against the back of my own. I tried not to think about the ease of that stroke as I said in a hard, calm voice I barely recognised, "Tell me what I need to do tomorrow."
Rhys let out a quiet breath. "It is widely known by now that you've left the Spring Court, and that you are now living in the Night Court." He spoke softly, not quite meeting my eyes, "Many have already drawn their own conclusions about your role here."
My jaw tightened, reading his meaning perfectly. I withdrew my hand from his, anger spiking through me. "They think I'm fucking you," I said - Not a question.
Rhys met my eyes and gave a small nod.
I stood up, fire prickling along my limbs. Faerie pricks, after all I had done Under the Mountain they still think of me as a fickle inconstant human. "I guess they think I got bored of fucking one High Lord so decided to roll into bed with the next one who came my way," I said sharply, pacing back and forth across the entrance hall.
"I would imagine most of them believe it is again your will," Rhys said calmly, "That I used my power to manipulate you into it."
His words pulled me up short and I turned to him. He watched me calmly from where he sat on the stairs, his expression unfazed. "That doesn't bother you?" I asked.
"The only opinions that matter to me are my inner circles, you know that."
I swallowed, not missing that I was now included in that group. He was right of course, all that mattered was winning the war with Hybern, the opinions of the rest of Prythian on my role in the Night Court were irrelevant. "I assume you're telling me this because you want us to play into their assumptions?" I asked.
Rhys nodded, "No one will be suspicious if we show them what they already expect to see."
"The High Lord's whore."
Rhys nodded again, his eyes firmly on mine.
I ran it over in my mind for a moment, envisioning what that might look like and found it made my stomach tighten. But then I thought about Velaris, I thought of its joyous peaceful streets and innocent people. I knew I would do anything to keep it that way. "Alright," I said, "I can be that."
"You would need to dress and act the part," Rhys said. I could sense that he was pushing me to be sure I understood. That he wanted, maybe needed to know that I understood the full repercussions of my choice before I committed.
"I know," I replied.
"I would need to treat you the way they expect me to treat a bedmate," he said, still pushing. "The way I would speak to you, touch you…-"
"I know," I said again, not wavering.
He swallowed. "It might bring up memories," he said quietly, "From Under the Mountain."
Images flashed through my mind. My skin covered in shining whorls of black paint. The cold air brushing over my bare legs as I danced before him. My mind slipping in and out of consciousness as faerie wine coursed through my veins. I was jolted out of the memories by a sharp stab of guilt and shame down the bond. His own.
"I understand, Rhys," I said, softly. "I'll do it."
He sighed, leaning back to rest his elbows on the stairs behind him. "Then I apologise in advance. For all of it."
I pursed my lips slightly. "You don't need to apologise for anything. It's my choice, remember?"
He gave a small half smile, "It is."
I moved to lean against the wall next to him at the bottom of the stairs. "How long will we be there?"
"An hour, two at the most. Azriel won't need that long but any shorter a visit might raise suspicions."
I folded my arms across my chest to stop from fidgeting. "Tell me what to expect," I said, working hard to keep the nerves out of my voice. I didn't want to give him any reason to doubt my resolve.
"Mor will be there a few hours ahead of us to warn them of my arrival. There will be a reception held in the Throne Room for the whole court to attend." Another throne room under a different mountain flashed through my mind and I pushed it away.
"When it's time, we'll winnow close by and then fly the rest of the way there. You'll enter first with Mor. I'll come in after with Cassian and Az." He paused, and then went on quietly. "My authority in the Hewn City is maintained through absolute power and fear. That is all they respect. When I enter, don't look me in the eye. Bow and keep your eyes down until I come to you."
I nodded.
"My visits to the Court of Nightmares are infrequent enough to always cause some interest but your presence will be the real distraction. When I bring you up to the throne with me, they won't be able to look away." I caught the barest hint of a sparkle in his eyes at those words.
"It all sounds delightful," I replied, dryly.
He gave me a small grin, but it faded quickly. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs.
"I am sorry, Feyre." He said quietly, his violet eyes piercing, "Not just for tomorrow, but for everything I put you through Under the Mountain."
I watched him for a moment, reading the quiet guilt still simmering behind his eyes. There were parts of what had occurred between us Under the Mountain that I still didn't understand. That, if I was honest, I didn't yet care to examine too closely. But I knew, deep down, that he had saved me- multiple times and in a multitude of ways.
I moved to sit beside him again, so close that there was a hair's breadth between our shoulders and knees. I reached out to take his hand once more. It was warm against my own.
"You don't need to apologise, Rhys." I said, my eyes meeting his. "Truly, you don't. If Amarantha had suspected you were helping me, she would have killed us both and Prythian would still be under her rule. You had to make it look like it was all a game, but you kept me alive, I know that."
His eyes were soft as they met mine. His thumb brushed lightly across the back of my hand again sending tingles along my wrist and forearm.
Dangerous, I thought. A dangerous game we played… but this didn't feel like a game.
"I should go to bed," I said quietly, my hand still in his.
"Alright," he replied, his thumb sweeping across the back of my hand one last time before he let go. My body felt heavy as I stood up, like I was having to drag it away from him.
"Goodnight," I said, not quite able to stop my fingers from lightly grazing his shoulder as I moved past him and up the stairs.
His quiet reply followed me upwards, "Goodnight, Feyre."