I don't have much to say about this chapter except... I can't wait for you guys to read it!
As always in this fic, trigger warnings apply for this work, about domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.
Feyre kept sleeping better and better over the next two weeks. She still dreamt of dead eyes and crowns of crimson, she still barely ate, but she managed to catch more than an hour of sleep everyday, and to keep most of her food down. Tamlin seemed happier too, he started kissing her again and he started going downstairs at night to ask her to come to bed with him. Some nights, she did. Most nights, she still needed the living room, she still needed to be close to where everything had happened. And she still needed the text messages. Rhysand had come to their house three or four times since the day he'd given her his number, and she had been afraid it would be strange seeing him again after their midnight talks. But it was easy. For all that he was serious and doing his job, he was still the same person she had discovered in the texts. The same funny, charming, interesting person who told her about art exhibits and listened to her rant about her job. After his meetings with Tamlin were over, they had talked more about how she felt about Sandy and he'd given her updates on the investigation - not much going on since he had erased all evidence. Tamlin had seen them talking by the front door, but she'd kept their talks short enough to contain his jealousy to a minimum. And, as much as she wanted to hide the late night conversations, she saw no problem with her and Rhys exchanging a few words when Tamlin was around, so she didn't try to conceal anything.
It had been a month since Sandy's death. And tomorrow, Nesta was getting married. She had organized a hair appointment for Feyre and Elain at 2:30, a makeup appointment at 3, and then the wedding was at 4 in the afternoon.
Feyre was giving her dress a final check before going to bed when Tamlin came in the bedroom. He stood beside her and encircled her in his arms, starting to kiss her neck.
"This dress is gorgeous, Doll. Is it for a special occasion?"
She turned to him. "Are you joking?"
"What?" He said, his hands playing with her pants. But Feyre didn't register any of his caresses.
"My sister's wedding. Tomorrow. I told you about it nearly two months ago."
"It's tomorrow? Then we're not going."
"What?!" She said, moving out of his embrace.
"Yeah, I have a dinner for work, and you're coming with me."
"No I'm not."
"Feyre, don't be ridiculous. I can't very well go without you."
"Tam, it's my sister's wedding. I'm not going to a dinner party instead!"
"Are you seriously bailing on me?" He asked, his voice starting to sound more angry with every word.
"Me? Bailing? You're the one that's planning work stuff when we have something else arranged."
He laughed. "I'm not going to pass up on a ten million dollar contract to go to your sister's tacky wedding."
"Well then don't come. But I'm not missing it."
They stared at each other for a long while. Tamlin was towering over her, and she could see that his jaw was clenched, and that he wanted her to say she would come with him to this dinner. But she crossed her arms and didn't look away. She wasn't being silly or unreasonable, she knew that. It was her sister's wedding, and she wouldn't miss it just to please him. She wouldn't back down. And he seemed to see it in her eyes, because he took a step back, sighed and said:
"Alright, do whatever you want. I'm going to sleep in the guestroom tonight."
She felt a tinge of guilt at forcing him out of his own bed, but a second later, it was washed away by a smile. He'd agreed with her. He wouldn't cancel his dinner plans, but at least she was allowed to do what she wanted with her night. She couldn't wait for the wedding.
The ceremony had been beautiful. Nesta was more gorgeous than ever, with her long white gown covered in delicate embroidery, and her beautiful face enhanced by light makeup. Her now-husband, Cassian, was very handsome, too. Much taller than her, with light brown skin and brown eyes, his shoulder-length hair held back in a classy hairstyle, he looked dashing in his black tuxedo.
They were at the reception now, held under a large tent in the garden of the inn. It was a rather small mariage, really, only three long tables with the couple's friends, and a fourth one, smaller, with their family. With only their father, Elain, two aunts from her mother's side and herself, Feyre had expected their share of the family table to be the smallest. Yet weirdly, it wasn't. Cassian's family was constituted of his brother, Azriel, seated beside her, and their cousin Morrigan, a blonde woman in a very extravagant red dress that had hugged her immediately, told her to call her Mor, and presented her to her girlfriend before going to sit beside Elain with said girlfriend. A small table, but a loud one, especially with Cassian and Mor constantly shouting jokes at each other from their respective seats. Feyre had spent a large part of dinner laughing at their shenanigans, and chatting with Nesta beside her, the conversation strained between them, as always, but made easier by the obvious happiness her sister was letting out. Now, Nesta was walking around to the other tables, her hand in Cassian's, talking to the guests of her wedding. Feyre was looking at them when she felt the weight of a gaze on her, and turned to find Azriel watching her. He smiled and she smiled back, somewhat intimidated by him. They hadn't talked much during the meal, and she wasn't sure what she could say to him. He didn't seem like an easygoing man, not like his brother, and she was afraid of not knowing what to say to him. But he was the one starting up the conversation, friendlier than she'd imagined.
"So, Feyre, you're the youngest of your family, right?"
"Yes, I'm three years younger than Nesta. What about you?"
"I'm a month older than Cassian. But we're foster brothers, we were both adopted."
"Oh, I didn't know."
"Yeah. So we don't really count who's older and all, even though Cassian likes to gloat every year at my birthday how I'm so much older!"
Feyre laughed, "He seems like the kind of man who would do that, yeah."
"He really is." They fell silent and Feyre looked at her sister and her husband, now dancing together under the soft lights of the tent. She turned back to Azriel and found him watching them too, a smile on his face.
"Your brother seems like a nice man."
He looked at her. "He really is. He can be a little… too much, sometimes, but he's a great guy. And he loves your sister so much, I can honestly say I've never seen him like how he is when they're together."
"That's good."
He swallowed slowly, as if he felt awkward, and she understood why when he spoke: "So… I don't want to be rude, but how come I've never met you? Nesta and Cass have been together nearly two years, and I've seen Elain a lot," a small smile appeared on his face at the mention of her sister's name, "but never you. How come?"
"Well," Feyre said, not really knowing how to explain herself, "I'm not really a family person. And… Nesta and I were never close, even as kids, so life kind of kept us apart these last few years." And because she didn't want to dwell on the subject, she added with what she hoped was a gleeful tone, "But I'm really happy to be here tonight! So, Azriel, what do you do?"
"I'm an assistant district attorney."
A pool of red on the carpet. Sandy's dead eyes staring at her in surprise. We're not calling the police! The blood running down her legs and Rhys' gentle hands washing it away.
All the images came rushing back inside her head as Azriel told her about his job, and she felt her smile falter. This man whom she'd been speaking to, who was now a part of her family, worked for the district attorney. He was in direct contact with the police, and probably with the people investigating Sandy's death.
She smiled at him. She needed to stay calm. Because if she didn't, she would certainly end up crying right here and there. So she kept talking with Azriel, as calmly as she could, and tried to ignore the flashes of red in front of her eyes.
Feyre smiled at the way her sister's husband was looking at Nesta. They'd spent the day bickering with each other, but she could see how deeply Nesta cared for him, and looking at Cassian, she was sure of the love she saw in his eyes.
Almost everybody had gone to bed, and the living room of the inn was almost empty, except for Azriel, Feyre, and the married couple. The conversation had started to drift from the wedding to social issues in Velaris, and Nesta and Cassian were arguing louder and louder with every passing second.
"Oh, so my personal experience doesn't matter then, does it?"
"No, Cassian, all I'm saying is, you're reducing the issue to some insignificant anecdote, you can't say that -"
A small cough came from the door, and they all turned to find the receptionist looking awkwardly at Cassian. Nesta looked the man up and down, as if he was the worst person in the world for daring to interrupt her.
"What."
"I'm sorry to bother you, but there's a guest of Mr. Knight's at the front desk."
Cassian smiled and got up.
"Oh yes, absolutely, that's my brother. Ness, sweetheart, I'm gonna go get him, do you want to come?"
"Yes, sure," her sister answered before getting up and arranging her dress around her. They both left the room, and Feyre turned to Azriel.
"Another brother of yours? He's kind of late, isn't he?"
Azriel chuckled. She was starting to like his quiet nature.
"Kind of, yes. He has a complicated job, it doesn't allow him to go out much, so he couldn't be here for the ceremony, but he said he'd come by later to meet Nesta and see us. We haven't seen him in a long time."
"Oh, I'm sorry about that, you must miss him a lot. What does he do?"
"He works with the police, but I'm sorry Feyre, I can't tell you more about this. But yeah, we miss him, it's good to see him for once," and she saw the slightest of smiles spread on his face. She was going to go on when the voice of Nesta approached again.
"... here with us, I hope it's not a problem? If you can't risk it, I can ask her to leave us alone, she'll understand."
"No, it's okay, Nesta, I'm sure your sister won't be a problem," answered a pleasant voice that sounded strangely familiar, but that she couldn't quite place. "I can't stay too long anyway, I just wanted to meet you."
"Well, it's a pleasure, I'm happy to finally be able to meet you too," her sister answered, opening the door to the living room, followed by her husband, and beside him, someone she knew all too well.
Rhysand.