Chapter 12

In the palace with beautiful moonstone pillars overlooking the Carved City, Nesta was resting—or at least she was supposed to be—when Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Feyre returned from dealing with prisoners from the Autumn Court. They found her standing by the table, staring at the mask covered with a cloth.

"How did you get in here?" Rhys demanded, shadows swirling around him. He had placed impenetrable wards on the door himself.

"The mask called to me; it whispers my name," Nesta said with a soft laugh. "It opened the door. It doesn't like you," she told Rhys, lifting her gaze to meet his. "It feels like you want to keep us apart."

"The mask opened the door for you?" Amren asked, alarmed.

"Yes," Nesta confirmed, touching the mask and pulling off the cloth to hold it against her chest. "It's mine," she said calmly, looking at them all.

"Nesta, it's not yours. It's a treasure of terror," Feyre stepped forward, speaking gently.

"No, it's truly mine. The Mother made it so I could play," Nesta said, tilting her head as she looked at Feyre curiously. That's when they noticed that Nesta's eyes had changed—they were no longer their usual bluish-gray but pure silver, like liquid fire.

"Lady Death…" Amren whispered, a hint of fear in her voice.

"Yes?" Nesta responded in a lilting, cheerful voice.

Cassian approached cautiously, and those silver eyes immediately turned toward him.

"My Lady…" He remembered the Lady of Death he had encountered in the swamp and dropped to one knee, bringing himself to the seated woman's level. "Is Nesta there?"

Nesta nodded.

"She's resting; she's tired," Lady Death explained to Cassian, holding the mask out to him as if offering to share it.

"It's okay. It's yours," Cassian assured her, exchanging glances with the others.

"Yes, it's mine. It's fun," Nesta smiled. "Do you want to play with us?" she suddenly asked Feyre, turning toward her and firmly placing the mask in her hands.

Nesta—or Lady Death—didn't understand the power her little toy held over others. Amren and Rhys shouted, rushing toward them, but before they could take a step, Feyre had already put the mask on.

The change was immediate. Everyone froze as Nesta clapped her hands with childish joy. She leaped from her seat and wrapped her arms around Feyre, delighted.

"Do you feel them? Do you feel all the dead beneath us?" she asked excitedly.

Feyre nodded.

"Do you want to summon them? We can summon them. I'll teach you how, sweet sister," Nesta promised, kissing her cheek.

This wasn't Nesta—it was Lady Death, and to her, there was no difference between the mask as a toy and Feyre as one. Rhys felt his stomach churn. He wasn't the only one—Amren felt a real, bone-deep fear. Cassian and Azriel exchanged uneasy looks.

"Maybe now isn't the best time. Playing with the dead before you give birth could be a bad omen," Cassian remarked casually. Then, gently, he reached up and removed the mask from Feyre's face.

Feyre blinked, as if waking from a long dream, gasping for breath as she looked from the mask to Nesta.

"Thank you. Maybe we can play later," Feyre said, speaking to her as if she were a child.

In response, Nesta gave her a radiant smile.

"Death... could you let Nesta wake up? I'd like to talk to her," Feyre asked softly.

"But we are one," Lady Death said, confused. "I am Nesta, and Nesta is me. Oh…" Lady Death said, as if understanding. "You mean the other part of my personality, the one that's asleep right now."

"Exactly," Feyre nodded.

"Okay," Nesta agreed, and her body collapsed. Feyre and Cassian rushed to catch her.

When Nesta opened her eyes a moment later, they were no longer silver—they had returned to her usual bluish-gray, so similar to Feyre's.

"Are you okay?" Nesta asked, looking at Feyre. "I didn't want to hurt you… She just wanted to play," she whispered, frowning.

"Nesta…" Rhysand approached cautiously. "Can you give me the mask?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. If I do, she'll come out again… she likes it too much," Nesta replied, not entirely sure how she knew, but certain nonetheless.

"Nesta... is she like a possession?" Amren whispered, unsure.

Nesta shook her head.

"No... she is me, and I am her. I don't know how to explain it," she admitted, looking tiredly at Cassian.

"It's okay, Nesta. But the mask affects us differently," Azriel said, stepping in. "Could you convince her that we just want to keep it safe?"

Nesta leaned against Cassian and closed her eyes, reflecting for a few moments before opening them again.

"Okay," she said, extending the mask toward Azriel with trembling hands.

"I can't touch it directly like you… Could you wrap it?" Azriel asked gently.

Nesta nodded. She took the cloth, wrapped the mask, and handed it to Azriel. As he walked away, Nesta's eyes followed him. The only reason her body didn't follow as well was because Cassian held her close, rubbing her back soothingly. Somehow, she liked that more than the mask itself. Little by little, Lady Death fell asleep, and Nesta became herself again.

"I stink," Nesta muttered after a moment, wrinkling her nose. "I smell like I dragged the whole swamp with me... I want a bath."

-o-o-o-

"She's sleeping," Nesta whispered, relaxing in the pool. "She won't come back for now," she assured calmly as Feyre moved closer and began washing her hair in the water. "Did your husband let you be here? I thought he was afraid of that other part of me."

"I didn't ask," Feyre shrugged. "You're my sister, I'm not afraid of you… I think Lady Death even likes me." She joked.

Nesta closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle massage as Feyre washed her hair.

"That's because Lady Death and I are one. You're a sister to both of us. Lady Death is part of me, not just one side. I would never hurt you," she said, opening her eyes to look up at Feyre. Feyre, also naked, was taking advantage of the moment to bathe together—a rare occurrence for them lately.

"I know. I wasn't afraid of her… I felt safe with her. When she gave me the mask, it felt like she was sharing something she loved," Feyre whispered, still in awe.

Nesta nodded.

"Yes. How did it feel?" she asked curiously.

"It was strange, but… it felt like extreme serenity, a deep calm and peace, as if nothing could disturb me," Feyre confessed.

"Yes, that's how it feels," Nesta agreed. "But it's only a toy—it shouldn't be used too much," she warned. "Don't seek out the mask without me; it won't obey anyone else."

"How do you know?" Feyre asked as she rinsed her sister's hair.

"I don't know… I just do," Nesta admitted, turning her head to look at her. Feyre nodded in silence.