If She Had Known

Faerie Wine

I had foolishly expected Rhys to waltz into my cell from between the gaps in stone that surrounded me. It had almost seemed natural after how many times he had done it these past few days. He had needed me just as I had desperately needed him. So I was completely floored when Nuala and Cerridwen strolled in and grasped me by the arms, not an ounce of recognition on their faces at the sight of me. Tears pricked behind my eyes at the prospect. The twins that had become so dear to me once the Night Court became my home— such a steadfast presence in my life— were meeting me for the first time. I said nothing of this as they pulled me through the walls of my cell and down the hall.

I was washed and painted as I had once endured and eventually anticipated, some part of my mind slipping back to my first trip Under the Mountain when I had fought for the wrong High Lord. The High Lord who hadn't fought for me. I was so close to collapsing within myself as I was draped in the sheer fabric that did nothing to conceal the most intimate parts of me. I felt a little piece of my soul slip away. I was hollowing out when I found Rhys leaning against the door frame, smirking at me. I kept the lift of my own lips from my face for the sake of the twins' confusion.

And just like that I was back. I was brave and whole. Night Triumphant. Stars Eternal. Unyielding.

"You're excused," Rhys said to them, with much more familiarity than he would have shown in another time. "Thank you."

The twins scuttled out with low curtsies and not a sound echoing from them. My surprise was a cool splash over me when I missed their presence as soon as they were out of sight. They had been a reminder of home.

Rhys stepped up to me, and I let the scent of him assault my senses, awakening me. Rhys was home. The only home I truly needed. I missed our river-front estate dearly, along with the rainbow and our walks along the Sidra, our flights over Velaris. But my mate was home. I would be fine as long as I was in his arms. I felt the phantom touch of his fingers gracing my collar bones as he once had, and watched the paint shift back into place. My lips turned up in the corners.

Hands on my chin, pulling my eyes away from the paint that covered every inch of me to look him in the eyes. "I want to make it abundantly clear that you do not have to do this." Rhys growled in a deep tone that made my toes curl, our current location notwithstanding. "I don't care what the damn time-line has to say about it." He whispered the words onto my lips.

I doubted the parties I had blacked out from my human memory would cause any problems with time if I did not attend. I had initially gone in order to get out of that cold and dark cell. Rhys had made the vilification of his character a card to be played, and allowed me to believe he only dragged me to the parties in nothing but cobwebs just to piss off Tamlin and take some sick pleasure for himself. But he had done it for me, so that I wouldn't have to lie in filth every night. It was an excuse to give me a warm bath, to drink something other than rancid water. And he had let me hate him for it.

"I much prefer your lap to my bed of hay," I answered simply, no wavering in my voice.

It was enough to make him smile— a sight that sparked hope within me— but his grip on my upper arms tightened. He was no doubt replaying the events we were about to relive. How he had made me dance for him, all the while hating himself for it.

I rose up on my toes and pressed a quick but lingering kiss to his lips. "Ready to be wicked?" I asked him, repeating the same words he had given me before my debut in the Nightmare Court. Then, I had sat in his lap as well, a simple play-thing with no real importance. I was rewarded with a flicker of those stars in my mate's violet eyes.

He didn't say it out loud or even directly into my unguarded mind, but I saw the words in his eyes. In his grip on my arms and the way his chest pressed closer to mine. I love you.