Theia couldn't look away. Fear tore at her stomach as she watched the High Lord, High Lady, and heir walk to the thrones. They played their role well, because she certainly felt their power now. Nyx hadn't spared her a glance, his eyes narrowed on the crowd as he stood beside Feyre. The High Lady perched herself on the throne with two snarling beasts, a wicked smile climbing up her crimson lips.
Rhysand sat in the spiked throne, his ankle laid across his knee as he looked around the room with a bored expression. Theia watched with wide eyes as the rolling darkness retreated, leaving only the male that seemed to be created by it entirely. Rhysand clenched his jaw and waved his hand, encouraging the musicians to resume.
As soon as the sensual beat returned, Theia felt as though the tension was dropped. Her breath was clear, the shaking in her hands slowing. To distract herself, Theia finished off her second glass of wine and turned to fill it again.
"The High Lord brought another one of his winged pets?"
Theia's hand stilled with the carafe between her fingers, spine going rigid at her first taste of the hierarchy of High Fae. Her jaw clenched and she began pouring the red wine again.
"A shame he brings them here so often. At least the two warriors can fight, this one just looks like a pretty pet for the heir," a female responded to the first voice. Theia ground her teeth and turned from the table, wine glass in hand. Her eyes fell to Mor, who nodded her head toward the crowd. Theia glanced to her right, eyeing the group of fae that danced and mingled. She'd have to play her part; Theia would have to join this crowd.
With another sigh, she clutched the wine glass and stepped into the crowd. She had no role to play besides ensuring she doesn't fall into talons of the High Fae that peered down their nose at her. It was a self imposed role, one that Theia wanted to uphold so that she could mentally survive the night that she had practically argued her way to have.
"Watch the damned wings," a female snarled, lifting her glass up to avoid the hooked claw on Theia's wings. With a frown, she tucked them in tight. She was so eager to argue with the High Lord about how easily he could change things, though she regretted her decision to join them more and more.
In the center of the massive room, people twirled and danced to the music, everyone else crowded around them as they spoke and drank. Theia narrowed her eyes on the female's gathered together, poorly covering their mouths as they gossiped and laughed, their eyes darting to her every few seconds. She frowned and sipped her wine. It felt foolish to submit herself to this mental torture just to try and prove a point; obviously this city wouldn't change their minds.
It wasn't a secret that it took centuries for a general mindset to change through exposure, but even then, they'd had centuries of a half-Illyrian male as their High Lord. How practical was it to have Illyrians as guards when everyone saw them as a joke? At that thought, Theia turned to look at the warriors at their posts. Azriel and Cassian stood at the foot of the dais, eyes watchful and threatening. There was no argument about their fierceness, but did that matter to a crowd like this?
Her eyes lifted slightly to Nyx. He held the same stoic expression that his parents did, hand resting on the snout of the snarling beast on his mother's chair. A feeling swarmed the pit of her stomach, one that she couldn't pinpoint. The absent look on his face reminded her of when she hated him so strongly, back when he seemed to care for her so little that he wouldn't mind if she disappeared. Now Theia knew he had felt the opposite, but it still made her feel sick.
"Cauldron, they're gaudy, aren't they?"
A voice lifted Theia from her observation of Nyx and back into reality. It was then she realized she was standing on the edge of the dance floor, shoved within the crowd of egocentric High Fae. She looked over her shoulder to see two females and a male, delicate fingers ghosting their lips as they whispered and giggled. Is it truly this rare to have lesser fae join them?
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The Heir of Night
FanfictionTheia, an Illyrian female, despises her Court. She knows of the High Lord's secret city, and the wealth that thrives there. As the poorest of a poverty stricken village, Theia is forced to keep herself and her mother alive. Working two jobs and comi...