A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 41: A Surprise; A Gift

Chapter 41: A Surprise; A Gift

Galadriel didn't bother looking her best anymore, even in the home and presence of a High Lord. For the second time, she had lost every article of clothing except the clothes on her back and now she simply took whatever hung in the wardrobe. Each time she opened it, new pieces were draped on the hangers or neatly folded on the shelving. At first she had thought it was the wraiths' doing, finding her usual style of flowing dresses, and light blouses and coats, but every now and then a daring dress would appear between two others, fitting of Night Court attire. She knew it was him, and never gave him the satisfaction of wearing one.

Rhys had given her the bedroom she first stayed in, the familiarity a small blessing. Though, she did miss what was becoming the usual morning spent with Cassian over breakfast after he'd trained. Apparently, her situation wrought enough sympathy that he didn't badger her to join.

"Any plans for today?" she asked Rhysand over a plate of toast. In the few days that she had spent here, he had already tuned into her habits, joining her in the small sunroom for breakfast and lunches where he could.

"The others are coming over later," he replied, sinking deeper into the woven chair with a charming smile as if he very well knew the way the angle the sun would hit him at would bathe him in gilded light. "But if you're asking about work, I'm taking the day off."

Galadriel dusted off her hands and flicked her hand. The plate disappeared. Both Rhys and Amren supplied her with the advice to use magic wherever she could. Small things so it leaked from her like a constantly draining vat. It would help prevent it from building up and spilling over, they told her. She still wasn't sure why she had to, since the power shouldn't be in her in the first place but for now she had to accept that it was.

Rhys seemed in a brighter mood than he had the past few days and she had the inkling that something had transpired which she was yet to learn about. "How would you feel about going somewhere tonight?" he inquired, breaking those travelling thoughts.

Her lips narrowed in a purse. Despite her returning energy, her desire to flutter about the city, to go to a dance hall with Mor or visit a tavern with Cassian hadn't returned with it. Not while she still felt like the leash of control over herself was out of reach. The skin on the back of her neck prickled with the heat of a phantom flame.

"A night in, then," Rhys said, though she hadn't spoken aloud. Galadriel waited for a sigh of displeasure or another bait to lure her out, but he continued on as if it had never been an offer. "I hope you're at least up for drinking then. You know Mor will complain if you're moping about all evening."

"Not that I need a reason to drink, but is there an occasion for it that you have neglected to inform me about?"

"Maybe." He sipped at his glass of orange juice. "It's not that important—just a little tradition I do every year."

Galadriel racked through her mind for any note of importance of the date, but there was nothing she could come up with. Rhys did speak of it as something unofficial though, an anniversary more than a holiday. "Anything in particular I need to know about it? Do you usually go somewhere?"

He shrugged the question off. "Sometimes. Depends on my mood. But drinking is always involved."

"I'd be more surprised if it wasn't."

That made him laugh.

Seeing as she hadn't yet removed her cotton nightwear, Galadriel returned to her room and searched through the newest haul of clothes the High Lord had gifted her. Once, months ago, she would have scolded him for it. Forced him to return everything. But after the villa, after everything...She didn't need to face the truth that they were gifts from him, that he thought of her when he went into the city. They would just suddenly be there in her wardrobe and when she wore something new, Rhys would merely dart eyes over it then give her a compliment or tease depending on his mood, and nothing more came of it.