✔ Mrs Mandray

41. Nesta

Nesta

Nesta blinked in surprise when her twin was whisked away in a whirlwind of shadow. She had tried not to bristle at the way the fae brute had crowded in at her back. It was only for Isabella that she had restrained her comments.

It was ridiculous, the way he– Cassian– behaved around her. She was a married woman and that might not mean much to fae but it still had some weight in the human realm, on Isabella's thoughts.

Despite Isabella confessing her ability to fall in love with Cassian it was clear to Nesta that her twin never would unless she was free from Tomas. She wondered if that was why the timeline had suddenly moved up. If this was foolish, first love fueling her desire to leave.

Isabella wouldn't be foolish enough to put a male before Oliver but she was desperate to be loved enough that she would allow his influence to crowd her judgement. Her decisions.

Feyre was still staring at her, as if waiting for her to say something. Nesta didn't. She didn't bother to stay and watch Feyre with her apparent girlfriend either. That was something Nesta couldn't wrap her head around either. She couldn't picture how her little sister could love someone the same gender as her. Hells, Nesta didn't think it was possible to do so considering how unnatural the whole affair was.

Nesta strode from the room, listening out for the telltale sound of the High Lord winnowing the rest of his entourage away as she ascended the stairs.

"You cried." She froze, angling her head slightly to indicate she was listening.

Elain went on, "You cried for her, didn't you." The tone might have been accusatory if it was so underlined by disbelief. "I hadn't thought you were capable of tears."

"And I didn't think you had the capacity to be cruel." She countered, voice smooth as she peered down at her sister who stood by the fire. "Tell me, was it disgust for the male's scars or hatred for Isabella."

Elain dragged her gaze away from Nesta to stare into the fire.

"Or perhaps it was pure selfishness." Elain flinched at her words and Nesta's eyes narrowed. "Cruelty does not suit you."

"I wasn't aware I had been." Her voice was delicate and quiet. Elain turned all doe eyed and soft in her pale chiffon gown. "Nor was I aware that you cared so deeply for Isabella. I thought you would have been pleased to see her go, you never were very fond of Tomas."

Nesta took a step back down the marble staircase. She felt her head tilt as she analysed every breath of her little sister. Where was the sweet girl she adored? The one who let her practise braids on her silky locks or play dress up with her as little girls.

"Why the sudden interest?" She demands stepping down another step and Elain seems surprised by her willingness to treat her as an equal. "You didn't seem interested during Isabella and I's discussions."

Elain scoffs, "I was never invited to those discussions."

"It was a family matter," Nesta's eyes narrowed. "Why would you need an invitation to a family matter."

Her sister blanched slightly, staring at her in shock. "Isabella is married, Nesta, to Tomas Mandray if you had forgotten. It would be considered unseemly for us to have an opinion on her family." Elain's flustered now and Nesta wonders how she herself had ever believed such a lesson from their mother. "We became separate families once the marriage was consummate."

"So Isabella is no longer family and therefore we shouldn't help her?" Nesta snarls and steps down level with her sister.

"No– No." Elain waves a frustrated hand in the air, turning away to brace an elbow against the fireplace and cover her face with her hand. "That is not at all what I meant. She's my sister– I adore her."