Hey everyone! This might seem like a repetition of what I usually say, but please leave a review! It means a lot, and considering I am keeping two other fanfictions going while also writing this one, it means a lot when someone appreciates how I am trying to keep all these stories up. Thanks! (And yes, for those who pmed me asking, I am only planning on doing P.O.V.'s from Rhysand and Feyre for the rest of the story, unless enough people really want me to do other ones) Enjoy!
Rhysand:
When Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and I walked into Tamlin's study, it had looked like he had been about to say something important to my mate.
It could wait though, whatever it was, even if I felt bad for thinking that.
So after making sure Feyre was okay through our bond, we had begun the conversation we needed to have.
Tamlin was more civil than he had been to us at the meeting of the High Lords, but not by all that much. I give the High Lord of the Spring Court this though, he made an effort.
The masks. That was how he had begun. Those two words.
Then he had continued, telling us the tale of how he had awoken from a dream where Hybern had returned, and had been told by a shaking servant in clad in a bird's mask that everyone had a mask now.
I had felt, rather than seen, Feyre suppress a shudder as Tamlin told us in heart wrenching detail how he had dismissed the servant and seen for himself that what she said was true. Beginning with peering at a looking glass to see that the golden mask she had worked so hard to get off was back.
At that I was prepared to come to blows with the High Lord of the Spring Court just for that, just for reminding Feyre of that, of the hardships that she had gone through for the piece of shit in front of us, and emphasizing how it had been all for nothing since that masks were back.
When Azriel, Azriel of all people, opened his mouth to ask a question, as he was so good as doing, Tamlin sneered at him, claws growing from his hands.
My Mate noticed. And so my beautiful Mate turned on her heel and walked out of the room, clearly giving the message that Tamlin could solve his own problems if he was not willing to work with all of us. All.
Feyre's footsteps were sounding halfway down the hall when Tamlin gnashed his teeth together and swallowed his enormous amounts of pride and called out. "Feyre, please. I apologize," the bastard called out.
The footsteps stopped moving away from us, but no sounds came from Feyre.
Then she appeared in front of Tamlin, surrounding by the spell cleaving light that she had inherited from Helion. And there she stood, keeping her anger on a tight leash as she crossed her arms, staring dead into the eyes of her old lover.
"I am the wrong person to apologize to Tamlin," my wife stated icily after a few beats had gone by.
"Of course Feyre," Tamlin said graciously, acting the part of a proper High Lord for once.
Then Tamlin turned his head towards my Master of Spies, while still sitting behind his desk, and said to Azriel, "I am deeply sorry for any offense I have caused you… Azriel." No one in the room missed the hesitation before calling Azriel by his name instead of one of the slanderous things he had called my brother for centuries.
But no one mentioned it either. Azriel bent his head in thanks, Cassian and my cousin looked shocked, frankly, that Feyre had even gotten him to say that he was sorry. I wasn't as surprised, but it was still a pleasant thing to hear from the mouth that usually only spewed insults or honey coated words of charm, such as the ones that had first won my Mates heart.
Feyre alone let no emotion show on her face, although I felt many barreling around in her head through the bond.
"Very good. Now, how do you suppose we fix this problem?" Feyre asked, speaking not as the woman who had once shared his bed, and his deepest thoughts, but as the High Lady of the Night Court talking to the High Lord of the Spring Court. It was terrifying. And a turn on.
I made these thoughts clear to Feyre through our bond, and I heard a response of her calling me an Illyrian baby.
And then we were snapped back to the present. "I hoped that you might try to release us with your spell cleaving light, Feyre, but past that, I did not write asking for help. I simply thought that I would give warning. Something so large as this is not like to strike only the Spring Court," Tamlin decreed, pushing his chair back and standing up, a clear dismissal.
Feyre nodded to me and Mor, Cassian, and Azriel followed me out the door, leaving Feyre alone with Tamlin.
I don't know what transpired in the time that they were left alone, and Feyre would not tell me past that it had not worked, and the mask would not come off no matter how powerful a spell she used on it. Or a spell breaker.
So our procession made its way out, and as we winnowed away, my final sight of the Spring Court was of the woman who had once loved it, and then ruined it, and was no attempting to put it behind her. The best sight in the world to me.
Thank you all for reading, and for (hopefully) not hating me after taking forever to write this chapter! Again, drop a review! Till next time! Bye!
