A Court of Fire and Starlight (ACOTAR Fan Fiction)

Extra Chapter - The Birch Girl

ETHRA

"Stop looking out the window and focus on your needlework."

Ethra cursed under her breath when she snapped her head back into her lap and saw that her stitches had veered off pattern. The stupid fucking flower pattern that no one cared to look at now had three points. Maybe she could pass them off as birds though their specific pointed positioning didn't look right.

A swift hand connected with the side of her face, causing her ear to ring. Her low, inappropriate words hadn't gone unnoticed.

She cursed again at the pain, earning her another thwack. The offending hand berating her belonged to a noble lady assigned to her. She wasn't a governess, and she certainly wasn't a mother.

To put it mildly, Lady Laurel was a cunt in more ways than one. Her husband had died during the war with Hybern, leaving her a rare position of power within Autumn. With no children or living relatives belonging to her dead husband, she inherited the many profitable farms and had slowly infiltrated Ethra's everyday life. On occasion, she'd also been known to shriek loudly, keeping the entire estate up at night as she blew her freedom by allowing Ethra's father to do as he wished with her in his chambers.

Sometimes when Ethra looked at Lady Laurel, she wondered if her own best chance at getting even the smallest enjoyment out of life sat before her. Ethra resented the idea of being sold off to the highest bidder when she came of age, but if her husband wound up dead...

A sewing needle through an eye. A special concoction dumped into a mug of ale. A plow to the skull. The idea of murder didn't make Ethra balk like some of the females she encountered. They fanned themselves and nearly broke a sweat when the topic was brought up, but Ethra merely planned. She couldn't wind up like them. There had to be more for her in life.

Dallen was allowed to do whatever he pleased. He wandered the fields, tangled in beds of hay with stable boys when their father was away, and wielded any weapon he could get his hands on.

Ethra had picked up a stray spear she'd found outside once and after she injured herself while trying to jab cornstalks with its sharp point, she'd been denied a healer, thrown in her room, and left without food for three days while her father fumed. The only reason the door had been unlocked was because Dallen had threatened to denounce their family name and wished their father luck at producing another suitable heir.

"I was watching for our guests," Ethra mumbled as she cupped her face.

Lady Laurel leveled her a glare. "They aren't mere guests and they won't appreciate being spoken to in that tone."

"I wasn't aware you knew what tone the new High Lord prefers to be spoken to with," Ethra snapped back.

"It's safe to assume he won't take kindly to snark," Ethra's cousin added.

Sarelle only hoped Eris Vanserra preferred females that had been pushed into silence and submission as she had been, though her perky breasts were certain to catch his attention. It wasn't clear if Sarelle wanted the title of the next Lady of Autumn or if she'd been told enough times that she ought to desire it that she'd started to believe it. Personally, Ethra was thankful she was still too young to be considered suitable for the High Lord since she doubted that he would be an easy husband to kill.

Ethra was halfway through ripping her stitches out when Dallen swept into the room, announcing she was to be free of sewing for the time being while they greeted the High Lord and his delegation.

When the group reached the top of the hilltop estate, Ethra's gaze immediately fell not to the High Lord rumored to be powerful and ill-tempered, but to the female beside him. Her name didn't need to be announced for Ethra to know she belonged to Night.