insubordinate (gwynriel)

1

Gwyneth Berdara was many things, but she was not a coward. So, when Merrill sent her on a mission to deliver some important information she'd uncovered in her research, Gwyn couldn't say no. She very rarely left the library and didn't want to if she was being honest. Everything she needed was inside these walls, and she was quite content to stay there.

She was slightly winded by the time she had climbed enough stairs to find the door to the House of Wind. She tucked her copper hair behind her ears and took a moment of pause before she opened the door. The High Lord had an office here he frequented, and that was where Gwyn was told to deliver the message.

She walked down the beautiful hallway, following the vague instructions Clotho had given her about where she would find it. She was distracted, playing with her necklace as she walked and attempted to see unhurried and poised. Of which she was currently neither.

She finally reached the heavy ornate door and knocked hesitantly against it with her fist. She leaned into the door, listening for a response, but heard nothing. Furrowing her brow, she knocked again, louder this time. Merrill had assured her he would be here to receive her message.

Still, no reply came from inside. Growling under her breath, she knocked again. Before she could press her ear to the door, it was roughly yanked open, all but causing her to stumble forward like an idiot. She bit her lip to hold back the anxiety that threatened to flood in.

Standing before her was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. He towered above her, his height making hers look like a child's height. He looked down his nose at her, hazel eyes gleaming with interest and vague irritation. But... this wasn't the High Lord. The High Lord of the Night Court had violet eyes and peaked ears to match hers. But the male in front of her... who was he?

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice a deep rumble of the night. Gwyn swallowed.

"I need to deliver a message to the High Lord," she said softly, trying to push her shoulders back and appear more composed than she felt.

He held out his hand, waiting for her to place the letter in his palm. But Merrill's instructions had been very clear. It was to be delivered straight into the hand of the High Lord himself, and no one else. Plus, she didn't even know who this man was.

She clutched the letter closer to her chest and glared up at him.

"I said," she repeated more firmly, "I have a message for the High Lord."

He chuckled, still holding out his hand.

"And I will deliver it to him," he said calmly as if he knew she was going to give it to him anyway. Which only made her want to give it to him even less. Something about the cold way he assessed and attempted to control the situation made her want to rebel against him, to piss him off just because she could.

Which, of course, did not mean she should. Her eyes flicked to his huge arms, corded with muscle and raw power. He could break her in half if he wanted. Why did she want to push his buttons so badly?

"No," she said offhandedly, looking away as if bored and irritated herself.

"No?" He laughed.

"No," she repeated, sounding more certain of herself by the moment.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked, raising one eyebrow. Her stomach flipped.

"No, and I don't care," she huffed.

"Oh, you don't care?"

"I don't care," she repeated, shaking her head.

"You should care," he warned.

"Why?"

He grinned, stepping toward her in an attempt to intimidate her. She refused to step back and let him think he was winning by scaring her. She kept her feet firmly planted until his chest was pressed up against her. She folded her arms across her chest in hopes of maintaining a distance from him as she looked up at him. He looked so godsdamned amused. It was infuriating.

"Because," he began, "I'm a very dangerous man." She could feel the vibrations of the deep tenor of his voice against her arms. She rolled her eyes, scoffing at him.

"I'm sure you are," she snorted. "Now where can I find the High Lord?"

His smile widened, all of his teeth perfectly straight and white. His dark hair hung in his eyes. The worst part of it all was how devastatingly gorgeous he was. It made Gwyn want to squish him like a bug. Because how dare he.

"I think I like you," he purred. A shiver crawled across her skin, and she refused to acknowledge the goosebumps forming on her arms. She needed to get the hells out of there and back into the library where it was safe.

"Glad to have your approval," she snarked. "Now tell me or I'll just go find him myself." His eyes simmered with his amusement. He liked that she was fighting back. Every time she did, his enjoyment of the whole thing multiplied. Asshole.

"Find who?" A deep, smooth voice said from down the hallway. He was in an immaculately pressed pair of dress pants with a white button-down tucked into them. He fidgeted with the buttons at his wrists, folding up his sleeves as he glided down the hallway and towards them. His presence demanded attention. The clacking of his shoes against the marble floor echoed. Now this was the High Lord. She released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.

"It's your lucky day," the man behind her chided. He pushed past her, shoulder lightly knocking against hers as he walked toward Rhysand, clapping him lovingly on the shoulder before continuing down the hallway and out of sight.

"Merrill sent a message to you, High Lord," Gwyn said, plastering on a smile and making her voice small and sweet. The face of the perfect simpering priestess. "She has had a discovery in her research that she believed may be of utmost importance to you." She handed him the letter and he took it, studying it closely in silence.

"Gwyn, please call me Rhys," he said, still studying the letter. She felt her cheeks heat. She didn't know why, but she hadn't expected him to know her name. But of course, he knew her name. She lived in his House. "Thank you for the message. I apologize for making you wait. You do important work and I don't wish to hold you up."

"I-It's okay," she smiled. "I best be getting back to the library."

He nodded, still distracted by the letter he held.

"Of course," he smiled. "Have a good night, Gwyn."

"You too," she squeaked out, scurrying back down the hallway. Once she was out of his sight, she was borderline fleeing back into the safety of the library. It'd been a while since she'd been around men. Especially men who were so... magnetic.

She banged through the door, walking to collapse into a library chair and scoff out a laugh as she stared at the ceiling. Shaking her head, she gave herself a moment and then walked back to inform Merrill that her message had been securely delivered.