✔ Mrs Mandray

20. A Scholar's Intelligence

Isabella

"You're a nosy scholar." She stated with no small amount of triumph as Rhys stared at her in disbelief.

"I tell you that your sister is mad at me because I was pestering her with questions about Humans, because I compared her to your sisters and that we were clearly having some miscommunication over things we want from life... and your response is that I'm a nosy scholar?"

His bewildered expression is actually quite adorable.

"Oh for crying out loud, Rhys. It was obvious that your love was a fleeting obsession masquerading as a coping mechanism." He glares at her but she no longer shrinks back in fear, the male had shared far too much about his atrocious love life for her to be scared of him anymore. "You're practically studying her, Rhys. Following some sense of duty and honour, while also fulfilling your natural curiosity."

"I won't disagree with you but I will say that you have the wrong impression." He peers down at me. There's an amusement in his eyes, as though he is truly enjoying our discussion and occasional debate.

"Please... enlighten me." She drawls, smirking up at him.

"Your sister is a threat, she's taken- no she was gifted a drop of power from every High Lord when she was reborn." Isabella tries not to bristle at his assessment of her sister. "Tamlin wanted to keep her powers hidden and to herself, others such as Beorn will wish to take that power back or have it... bred into their own line."

"So my sister took from powerful old white men and now-"

"You know they're not all white, nor are we men... although we are most certainly ancient." Isabella waves off Rhys' amusement.

"It's less of a physical description and more of a mindset." She states, "there is a certain brand of person that just aligns with rich-straight-old-white-guy."

He hums in agreement and for a moment all Isabella could think of was Tomas and his father. Their insistence she provides them with a blood heir. They had been content with Oliver, it's not like you could tell him as fae and they could pass him off as Tomas' easy enough but since... she almost scoffs aloud at the thought. Since her sisters have regained their wealth. Of course, women cannot inherit so daughters are married off quickly to ensure they don't become destitute and their husbands are left able to inherit money on their behalf.

"I couldn't care less about the power, I have enough of my own but Feyre has a target on her back now." Isabella blinks in surprise, coming back to the conversation at hand. Right, Rhysand and Feyre having a shit load of power stolen from old white men. "She saved us under the mountain, and we revived her in turn.... But I feel as though my debt to your sister has not been paid. So I want to help her, teach her control over those powers, keep her safe from Tamlin-"

"Please don't turn my sister into a little project." She interjects, giving Rhys a reproachful look but he shakes his head at her. "I'm not. I just... I need your sister's cooperation, for the sake of my people and our fate in this war she may be a necessary component. To either join the High Lords together or should she wish, a powerful weapon against Hybern with all that power."

"And my sister didn't want that? That was the underlying tone of the argument." Isabella questions and Rhys sighs, looking towards the upcoming house instead of answering. Which is inconvenient for Isabella's curiosity so she elbows the male in his side. He grumbles but eventually answers, "The undertone was that she was still human in the ways that mattered. Your sister is young and inexperienced despite all her trauma. She cannot grasp the concept of war, the repercussions, the death and what it entails and how they are fought and won. Truth is, I don't want her to know, I don't want anyone to know what it's like to fight a war but..."