A Court of Love and Devotion

VIII

ARIA

"How did you get here?" Aria asked her family as her father helped her sit on the couch of the townhouse.

"Rhys called us all after Callum told him what happened," her father began. "We all went to the middle immediately but we were too late. Azriel captured a couple of monsters to interrogate and we killed the rest."

"Your mothers almost destroyed the entire middle, just the three of them," Mor snorted.

"Your mother and I went to the Hewn City to retrieve the Harp," Rhys continued, with a smirk at Mor's remark. "All we needed then was to know where you'd gone. And when. Azriel eventually managed to coax that information out of his prisoners."

"It appeared we got there at the perfect time," Feyre smiled then looked at Aria and her face dropped. "Well, almost."

Aria offered her aunt a smile. "I'm fine," she assured her whole family. "When are we going back home?" She couldn't wait to get back to her time, to her life. To what she'd always known as normal.

"You should probably stay here for the night," the old Rhysand came into the room with his mate. "Rest up and leave tomorrow. You can have the townhouse, we just moved into our new home."

They all nodded. Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre straightened awkwardly and looked away from their past selves. Aria couldn't imagine how awkward that situation must be for them.

The old Feyre walked to Nesta, eyeing her curiously. "You look...better."

Nesta could do nothing but stare tenderly at her youngest sister. Then she took her face in her hands and placed a tender kiss on the High Lady's forehead.

***

ELIA

The old Nesta was in the garden, sitting on the bench. Elia couldn't help but stare at her. Her heart felt heavy as she looked at the female who was a ghost of herself.

Too thin. Much too thin and hollow.

"It's harder to see it," Valeria said as she stopped next to her by the window. The princess looked as devastated as Elia felt.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she replied. "Yes, it is."

Valeria held her hand and squeezed. "It's almost over. In a few months, she'll start getting better. She'll make it out, remember that."

Elia only nodded. She stepped out of the room where her sister was resting. In her twenty years of life, Elia couldn't remember having lived a worst day. Between learning her sister was stuck sometime in the past, to finding her dying on the ground and now seeing her mother at her worst...today was not a good day, no matter how well it ended.

She made her way downstairs and stopped when she saw her mother half-asleep with her mate on the couch. She stared at them for a moment, imprinting that image in her mind before she walked to the garden. A small hand grabbed hers, Elia looked down at Sage.

"I'm coming with you," the young girl said. Elia smiled softly and squeezed her little sister's hand and, together, they went to the garden.

The old Nesta straightened as she saw them. She cleared her throat. "Is she alright? Your sister?"

Elia nodded. "She is. She'll be back on her feet soon." The female hesitated but remembered that Uncle Rhys said he would erase everyone's memory before they left. "She's always been a fighter. The most like Dad. While I'm the most like you."

"I don't understand how that's possible," Nesta scoffed. "You seem...kind."

"I'm reserved and quiet. And not as witty as you or Aria but my character is the most like yours...and you're not as mean as you're pretending to be."