Feyre was beautiful-there was no denying it. But her dress wasn't exactly… traditional.
Nesta tried to keep her face like stone when she saw her sister. Feyre's dress, instead of being white, was midnight blue, silver beads decorating the top, then fading to look like falling stars. It was sleeveless and the skirts fanned all the way to the floor. Her hair was up in a twist, accenting her sharp cheekbones and elegant face. Her perfectly done makeup brought out the sparkle in her blue-grey eyes, the fullness of her deep red painted lips.
She looked like a queen.
Nisha, who Nesta had determined was Rhysand's youngest sibling, squealed when she saw Feyre, sprinting forward and getting a face-full of Feyre's skirts when she tried to wrap her little arms around her.
Feyre laughed, full and rich, but her smile fell when Nesta approached.
"You're beautiful," Nesta said, even if Feyre had heard it probably a million times already.
Feyre's next smile was small, but it still meant something to Nesta. "Thank you."
There was a knock on the door to which Elain squealed slightly. "The groomsmen are here."
It took Nesta a split second to remember that Elain's boyfriend was one of said groomsmen. She'd only ever seen him in pictures, but recognized him instantly when she saw the fiery red hair as he stepped into the room. He was handsome enough, with bronze skin and a polite smile, but that wasn't what caught Nesta's attention.
Stretching down the side of his face was a wicked scar, cutting right through an eye with a golden iris, rather than a ruddy brown one to match the other. He kissed Elain lightly, an act Nesta silently resented. He introduced himself to Nesta, complimented Feyre, and tapped Nisha on the nose.
Following him came a man with white hair but dark skin and a short woman with unnerving silver eyes. The woman looked over Feyre, clicked her tongue, and pulled from her pocket a necklace of sapphires. Feyre turned to let her clasp it around her neck and thanked the small woman.
"That's Amren," Elain whispered to Nesta, "don't steal her jewelry. She'll eat you."
Something sparked in Nesta that made her instantly like this "Amren" woman.
The next person to come through the door was a man who Nesta quickly learned was the Azriel mentioned earlier. He stayed quiet and stoic, attention on Elain when it was quite clearly Feyre's wedding day.
"Where's-" Feyre began, but a loud and obnoxious voice cut her off.
"Rhysand is freaking out and-holy shit, Feyre-I can see why."
Nesta's eyes widened. She knew that voice.
"That was supposed to be a compliment, Feyre," Mor said as Cassian strolled into the room. "He still doesn't know how to compliment people properly."
Nesta wanted to shrink into the wall as the room steadily grew smaller. Cassian didn't see her till he embraced Feyre and caught her gaze over her sister's shoulder.
"By the gods," he said, pulling back. Feyre turned to see who he was talking to. He grinned like a wolf. "If it isn't the viper."
Feyre raised her brows. "Have you two met?"
"Never," Nesta said at the same time Cassian did, "I saved her life once or twice."
Confused looks all around the room were passed between them. Feyre pursed her lips, deciding an introduction couldn't hurt. "Cassian, this is Nesta, my oldest sister. Nesta, this is Cassian, Rhys's brother." Her next words came out slowly to Nesta's ears, lips moving dramatically as Mor and Elain both smiled. "You two will be paired for going down the aisle."
Sometimes, Nesta hated her sister.
Feyre smiled like she knew it too.
Cassian slung Nisha easily into his large arms, cooing and bouncing her. She giggled gleefully, trying to drape herself to the ground. Outside, the music started.
Feyre sucked in a sharp breath that everyone heard. It was time.
Elain peeked her head through the doors, then signaled to Lucien. Together, they strode gracefully down the isle, footsteps falling to the beat of the music. Next went Amren and the quiet boy she'd come in with.
When Nesta felt Cassian slip her arm though his, her spine filled with steel. "Nesta, Nesta, Nesta," he whispered into her ear. "You and I are going to be a story to remember."
They passed through the threshold and Nesta felt like she could crumple like a sheet of paper as she felt a hundred eyes upon her.
Somehow, Nesta made it to that alter. For your sister, she thought silently. For her family. For everything she gave.
And so Nesta made herself smile when Feyre walked down that aisle, when he husband wiped away a tear from his eye before anyone else could see. Because if there was anything Feyre Archeron deserved, and Nesta knew, it was happieness.