KING OF MY HEART, acotar

V

    Amarantha wanted to make a spectacle of Feyre, that was clear. She made her cronies gather what the could of the residents of the mountain, including the guards and servants, to watch Feyre’s first task.

    They were standing around the spacious arena, divided against the walls trying to get as far away as possible from the very large hole in the middle of the room. A muddy trench that was probably twenty feet deep, built like a maze and a labyrinth of turns and pits and holes.

    Zelda truly wished that whatever Feyre’s first task is, it wouldn’t be what lay in her mind.

    Feyre was brought in, dragged by the guards that hauled her by both arms, her legs were digging in the mud as they threw her in front of Amarantha.

    The commander of Hybern was sitting in a throne settled on a platform that raised her from the rest od the raucous crowd, with the frozen Lord of Spring next to her. And around them stood the rest of the High Lords of Prythian — Zelda knew that Amarantha summoned all of them for Feyre’s trials. To witness her failure, a spit in their faces saying you will never escape me.

    Zelda could name each and every one of them.

    With flaming red hair that wisped around his sneering face like it was alit flame, Beron Vanserra looked so similar to his children that stood amongst the crowd. High Lord of Autumn.

    Next to him standing so still was Kallias, High Lord of Winter, his snow colored hair and pale skin abstracted so greatly against the walls of the mountain. His light blue eyes was like a frozen lake, hard and cold. No emotion whatsoever. It had to had taken him so much self restraint to stand close to the female that had ordered the slaughter of children from his court.

     Near him was a male with similar hair coloring but longer, past his shoulders, and his eyes was a similar shade of turquoise but that was where their similarities ended. His shade was a dark brown, several shades darker than her own.

   It wasn’t that he didn’t look like he belonged with the High Lords, it was only the his eyes weren’t as guarded as the others — not as hunted. And Zelda knew that this was Tarquin, High Lord of Summer. She knew that Tarquin’s reign had only begun when Amarantha killed the previous High Lord of Summer, who was also Tarquin’s cousin.

    She had killed the entire family save for Tarquin himself. Nostrus, the previous High Lord — who was unfortunate enough to share a name with Amarantha’s despicable follower — had participated in an attempted rebellion against the Deceiver which resulted into his death and his power went to Tarquin.

    On the other side of them was a very muscular man, with onyx hair that reflected the fad light and brown skin. Zelda could have sworn that light emitted from him, like the sun rays. Helion, High Lord of Day.

     In opposite to Helion’s muscular form, next to him was a male with a slender yet strong build. His brown skin radiated light, with short brown hair similar to Zelda’s. Zelda found herself wondering if the sun had taken a brush and painted the male with golden when he was born. Thesan, High Lord of Dawn.

    She found her mind drifting very far back into her past, surrounded by a comforting, warm scent as she sat in her mother’s lap as she told her of a court with golden painted skies and feather winged warriors, of people who had the ability to heal others.

    Zelda ignored the burning of her heart as she shook away the memories.

    It didn’t take her much, though, to stop her mind from drifting to the dark crevice of her mind as she glimpsed the male who stood near Thesan and Helion.