The Affair

Out of Control

The next morning I try to busy myself with more unfulfilling painting, but I'm so distracted thinking about my family that I don't get much work done. Tamlin read me a letter from them when we first woke up. Apparently my father is away on a business trip to Vallahan. He didn't speak much about his travels as a merchant even before he lost his job. But now, I let myself wonder about all the places he has seen. What is the human realm like across the ocean? What is Vallahan like? I know it is full of fae, but that is the extent of my knowledge. I wonder what powers the fae there have and if their territory reflects their powers like the Highlord's territories in Prythian.

I move my thoughts towards my sisters. I know they are living well now with all the money they need, but that doesn't mean they are happy. I've never seen Nesta happy. Even when we had money growing up, she always found something to complain about. I know she never married Thomas, which is a blessing, but young women in the human village often got married before they turned twenty five, no matter how rich they were. I wonder if she will too, or face the inevitable label of Spinster. She does not do well when she has to rely on men. I saw her disappointment towards our father and can't imagine her in the same situation again. I wish she had more opportunities for independence as a woman in the human realm.

Elain, on the other hand, seems perfectly happy married to Grayson, if I can tell by the letters she sends, or she would be if it weren't for her infertility problems. Elain says she has been trying to get pregnant for awhile now, but to no avail. I told her to not give up hope. She has always dreamed of becoming a mother, so it saddens me that she is struggling with this.

My painting this morning was the start of my favorite violet roses in the manor garden, something you would never see in the human realm. I know my sister would be beside herself if she saw such beautiful flowers. Elain would truly thrive here. I am a little taken aback at my next thought: she would make a much better Lady of the Spring Court...and a much better wife to Tamlin. I wish I could be more like her in that way, happy with being confined to the house, gardening and baking and greeting the people and wanting a child...but that's just not me. I feel stuck in this place, unhappy with too much free time. I feel like I serve no purpose as the Lady of the Spring Court, and the few things I am expected to do I struggle with. I am already regretting my choice to try for a child, and I don't speak to the people unless spoken to. They will forever be grateful for Feyre Cursebreaker, but I am unable to be as social as I should be with them, and I think many are taking notice I might make a great Lady.

Even now, I yearn for the forest. I don't miss starving or the pressure to find food in the winter, but I do miss aspects of hunting: the peaceful silence, the beauty of nature, and getting to use my bow. I'm not allowed to go into the forest anymore without an escort—usually Lucien or Tamlin. It doesn't feel the same with them though. I liked the freedom and independence of going alone. They say it is all for my protection, like all the other things I can't do, and I know my safety gives Tamlin a lot of anxiety, so I try to abide by his rules the best that I can—even if it slightly kills me.

I give up painting after half an hour to wander aimlessly through the halls of the manor. All I really want to do is lie in bed but that is not very fitting of a High Lord's wife. Although I don't have much to do in my role, as a Lady I represent an important symbol—the strength of the Court. I can't hide myself away or people will doubt the High Lord's ability to make me happy which makes the court look weak. Or at least that's what Ianthe has told me countless times. As I walk through the halls, I am greeted with forced smiles and the smallest inclines of people's heads, nothing like the full bows given to Tamlin. I'm not good at this role. I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere except maybe those woods. I keep finding myself at a constant contradiction, with both the desire wallow in my guilt in bed and the desire to run as far as I can away from the manor, neither of which would be received well.