The Devil You Know

Part I: Chapter 6

"So," Irelia said, tentatively, breaking the silence of the room. "You knew my father?"

Rhysand sat up from where he lounged on the bed, letting out a sigh. "I knew this would come up eventually. I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner."

A couple nights had passed since the end of the week festivities, the night Eris had mentioned that Rhysand was apparently her father's enemy. She had wanted to ask him about it ever since but hadn't worked up the courage. Partly because she didn't want to ruin her relationship with Rhys and also because she didn't want to talk about her father—if she could even call him that.

She peered at Rhysand from her place in the armchair by the fire. "My mother never spoke of him. I only ever heard bits and pieces of him as the High Lord from the other nymphs who liked to gossip."

"Me and your father have a very long, complicated history, Lia," Rhys sighed, using the nickname he had given her. "And it's not a particularly happy one."

She stood from her chair and moved to sit next to him on the bed. "I don't care. I don't even know him, Rhys. But...I think I'd like to hear about it. If you don't mind."

Rhys furrowed his perfectly manicured eyebrows, as if debating whether or not to tell her.

"I wouldn't want to sour your relationship with him before you even have the chance to meet him."

Irelia scoffed. "Not like I'll be alive much longer after Amarantha dangles me in front of him. She made that very clear."

Rhysand frowned. "I won't let her kill you, Lia." But she could see the worry in his eyes, the dread at the possibility that there was no keeping her alive. She shrugged her shoulders. They had twenty-four more years before his curse ended. A lot could happen in that time.

"Please, if you would. I just..." she paused. "I guess I'm just curious."

Rhysand let out a resigned sigh and nodded. "I understand, Lia. He's your father, regardless of whether you know him or not. I'll tell you about him, about us. But please, when the time comes, don't let it get between you two if you choose to have some sort of relationship with him."

So, he told her. He told her how him and Tamlin had sparked up a friendship after relating to each other's struggles. He had been a half-breed who constantly needed to prove himself and Tamlin felt the same way because he was mocked endlessly by his own brothers. He told her how he taught him the Illyrian way of fighting, helped build him into the warrior he was today.

But then, Rhysand had explained, everything between them changed when Tamlin gave his father information that Rhys' mother and sister had planned a camping trip together. Something that Rhysand had told him about in passing.

Rhys was supposed to meet his sister and mother, but was late to their meeting spot. He told her how Tamlin's father, brothers and himself set out to that spot in the Illyrian mountains and slaughtered both females. Cutting their wings and heads from their bodies. How Tamlin's father kept the wings as trophies and sent their heads in boxes down the river. And how those boxes eventually reached the nearest war-camp, and they sent word to Rhysand and his father.

Irelia's face had melted into one of horror and despair. She hadn't expected such a gruesome tale.

"Rhys," she breathed, not even sure what to say. She stared at his profile as he just stared into the fire ravaging in the fireplace. "I'm so sorry he did that...I'm—"

"You are not your father, Lia," he murmured. "You have nothing to apologize for."

She swallowed audibly. "So, what happened then? Did your father seek revenge?"