𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Fifty-one

A year. A year ago Tamlin had invaded our home and forced my sister and me into Prythian to live out our days there. A year.

    Our Family's estate and its glittering emerald rooftop were as lovely as the last time I'd seen it. The pale marble of the walls blended with the snow as though it wore a thick coat of it all over, in contrast with the green of the roof. It reminded me of a winter forest. Bits of evergreen and holly adorned the windows and everything within sight. The only bit of celebration the humans allowed. They'd banned and condemned everything after the War, not wanting the reminders of the immortals that lay beyond the wall.

    It was ridiculous in many aspects.

    They would always be there. The fear of them being only miles away would always seep into their lives. They let that fear rule them, allowed it to take their joy. Their traditions. They made themselves miserable and they did it to all of us too.

    But...a part of me understood—a little. I'd spent three months with Amarantha, and my soul had shattered into shards of glass. I couldn't begin to understand what a Millenia of Fae like her could do to people. To their culture. That I understood, but they let everything else fade away along with those horrors.

    My sister and I stood in front of the door that would lead to our family. To our demise. Our cloaks were thrown up, our slender hands tucked neatly into our pockets. The steady thrum of the bell Feyre had pulled seconds before still rang through the air. Behind us lay Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian, all covered by a hefty glamour at their High Lord's hand.

    We all decided it would be best if we spoke to our family alone at first.

    The door opened and a round-faced housekeeper stood in front of us then—Mrs. Laurent, if I remembered correctly. "May I help..." her words faded into the air as she looked at me. I stood in front of Feyre. I was seen first. If worst came to worst...

    My hood concealed my ears, and yet with the preternatural glow, we both now possessed it was easy to pick us out from a crowd. I could use glamour if I wished, but I found it insulting to have to hide myself from my family.

    "We're here to see our family," Feyre's choked voice sounded from behind me.

    "Your—your father is away on business, but your sisters..." her eyes never left mine. Her face was one of shock as she stared. I wondered what she saw, what was so different. I still hadn't worked up the courage to look in a mirror...I hadn't seen myself, what I looked like in months.

Her face blanched as she looked around us, no carriage, no footprints. She knew. She had to know.

    "Mrs. Laurent?" a soft and feminine voice resounded from inside. Some human part of me felt at home with Elain's voice. We'd never really connected, and yet she was still my family.

I didn't know if I could do this. Didn't know if I could face them. Let them see what I'd become...

There was a shuffle behind me as Feyre backed away a step. We could do this. We could.

Elain's face appeared in the doorway, just over Mrs. Laurent's shoulder.

She was exactly as I remembered her. Made myself remember in the darkness of my cell, telling myself that she and Nesta, and my father would be targetted if we failed if Amarantha crossed the wall. The way the King of Hybern would destroy the mortal lands if we didn't get the Book of Breathings.

Elain's eyes silently filled with tears and overrun. Mrs. Laurent didn't move an inch, her white-knuckled hand gripped the door so tightly I knew she wanted to slam it in our faces.