The Affair

Under Pressure

I set my brush down, finished with the last details of my painting of the silver lake that Tamlin often brings me to. Recently, painting has felt like a chore more than a hobby. After breaking the curse and coming home to the manor, I coped with my pain and guilt through my artwork, painting the horrendous things I saw and making abstract art that depicted my feelings, which included a lot of dark colors. I could tell it bothered Tamlin after awhile, because I knew he wanted to put what happened behind us.

So I stopped. I started painting places around the manor again, consisting of rolling green hills and beautiful light colored flowers in every which corner. But it hasn't been giving me the same amount of satisfaction. Every piece looks too perfect. I stare at the silver lake in front of me and feel an overwhelming urge to put my hand in the black paint and ruin the picture with darkness and then hurl it through the window. But I don't. I just take a deep breath, calmly put my paints and brushes away, and walk out of the room.

Im greeted by Ianthe on the other side of the door, and whatever small amount mental energy I had to begin with disappears immediately. "Feyre," she drawls. "So lovely to see you this afternoon. You've been in there all morning. Walk with me." She doesn't give me much of a choice as she loops her arm in mine and tugs me with her towards the double doors leading to the garden. Winter has just ended and it is starting to get sunny again, but there is still a chill breeze in the air that makes me wish I put on a dress with longer sleeves. I'm wearing a pale blue silk dress with mid length sleeves and a white bow tied around my middle to accentuate my small waist. Last year was really difficult for me, and I could hardly keep any food down, but my nightmares thankfully don't happen every night anymore. It's usually once a week now, so I've been able to gain back a few inches around my waist, which made Tamlin very happy to see.

Ianthe guides us through the beautiful garden that has begun the process of reviving itself after winter, although not yet blooming. "You look healthier, Feyre. Happier than you've ever been." She says, beaming with a smile I know is just a part of her fake persona. "I'm sure much happier than you were in the human world starving day and night."

Cauldron, she is blunt, I think to myself. I nod along in agreement, even though I know I'm not happy at all. That thought alone makes me twinge with guilt. I am surrounded by everything I would ever need, yet I am still so unhappy. It should be a crime to think the way I do.

Ianthe continues, "Not to infiltrate into your intimate life with the High Lord," she starts, which is funny to me because that is exactly her intent, "but I wanted to talk to you about your duties as High Lady. Now that you are healthy and well, I think it's about time you stop taking your contraceptive tonic and try for a baby." I falter my steps, not prepared for this conversation yet, but Ianthe drags me along and I eventually get my feet moving properly again. "After all, the Highlord is five centuries old, and he needs an heir. It is your duty to provide him with one."

I keep my face neutral but inside I feel my heart drop to the floor. I can hardly take care of myself, let alone a baby, who will need me at all hours of the day. My skin heats and I feel an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of being pregnant. I already can't leave the manor with my powers going off at random. I have no control over when it happens, so Tamlin and I decided it was best for me to stay here with strict orders to everyone in the manor to keep their mouths shut if they see anything. An impossible task for such gossips, but truly they only gossip amongst themselves, so there isn't much fear of it spreading to other courts. No one wants war brought on their doorstep because a High Lord wanted to take their power back from me.

As a result, I have been limited to these walls, not allowed to venture into the town to volunteer anymore, which is the hardest truth I had to accept. If I got pregnant, my seclusion from the world would only increase. I would be fully smothered by Ianthe and probably not even allowed to walk through the gardens anymore. All for my protection. It seems that that is always the excuse. I swallow what feel like a rock in my throat, and force myself to speak.