𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Twenty-Four

Rhysand had helped walk me back to my room—I tried and failed to not let my embarrassment get the best of me. I hated being vulnerable like that. I'd drawn the line at the doorway of my room, even though I'd nearly fallen over at the doorway, I didn't fail to notice the quiet amusement on Rhysands face.

    I tripped over my feet too many times to count as I went to the dresser and grabbed comfortable clothes. I'd made my way to the bath next—i knew I'd likely take longer than ten minutes in there, but I didn't really care. He could wait.

    The warm bath had done wonders for the soreness that limited my limbs. It wasn't fully gone, but I could walk without pain slicing through my limbs.

    My emotions were mindless. Like I was only a body and nothing else. I'd tried to make it seem like I wasn't. And yet I was just a black hole of nothingness.

    By the time I'd returned to the main room Rhysand was leaning against a stone pillar, picking at his nails. He merely said, "the was twenty minutes."

    I didn't really have the energy to respond to his taunts, so I only shrugged in response. That small shred of normalcy had worn away and I was dreadfully reminded of how miserable my life was.

    Rhys extended a hand and before I could blink we were swallowed by darkness. The darkness was different, it moved like water, light like smoke. It wasn't suffocating like what I'd been locked into, and yet such paralyzing fear had taken control of me that I'd ended up climbing to Rhysand like a lost little child.

    It seems I'd lost my dignity as well.

    And then I was enveloped by sunlight. I squinted at the brightness, somehow more vibrant than that of a palace filled to the brim with windows.

    I found myself standing in what was unmistakably the foyer of someone's house.

    I staggered away from Rhys as I turned in a circle to look at what was around me. I surveyed the warm, wood panels, the artwork, and the straight wide-oak staircase ahead.

    Two rooms lay behind us. On the left being a sitting room with a black marble fireplace and many pieces of comfortable-looking furniture that nearly begged me to go over. On the right was a dining room with a long cherrywood table big enough for at least ten people. Down the hall were a few more doors ending in the one I assumed was the kitchen.

It was a townhouse.

    My family had visited one when I was young, my father had brought Feyre and me to the largest townhouse in our territory for trade.

    This house wasn't stuffy and formal like that one. This house...it was a home. It had been lived in, enjoyed, cherished.

    And beyond it lay a restless city.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: OML the excitment is off the charts