Ravening

panicking slightly

Amarantha raised her elegant eyebrows, looking at your retreating figures.

Now that she thought about it, why were you dressed in men's clothes? Not that it didn't suit you or any-- never mind.

Tamlin's inner spasms offered her enough entertainment, to the point where she didn't even feel the usual urge to kill when she looked at you. Curious.

Meanwhile, you were for once unaware of the queen's gaze, too immersed in the potentially gay panic brewing inside you.

You glanced up at your villain fae companion, testing his telepathic abilities.

Hey, Rhysand?

A raised eyebrow and a glance sent to you over the table: Yes?  His purring voice resonated in your head.

Do you think I've been cursed?

On the outside, it must have seemed like he was amused by the tartlet selection. But inside your mind, you somehow heard him chuckle: By many I'm afraid.

I don't mean it like that... You picked up a treat shaped like a vermillion rose.

Then? Rhysand had a bad feeling of where this conversation was heading.

You sighed and put the sweet back down – breaking every etiquette rule of an open bar.

Why do I want her to keep looking my way?

What? The man's lips were one fine firm line.

I see Tamlin next to her and I know I love him, but... I don't know. I've never felt like this before. Like your heart might jump out of your body, like nothing else matters as long as she's looking at you. Like you might die of happiness if she were to ever show you kindness.

Rhysand frowned. That mousse must be really bitter, the onlookers reasoned.

I can't believe how beautiful she is. You sneaked another peek at her. Of course, Amarantha caught you and frowned.

Well this is a faerie court.

You shook your head. Everyone else... they all look like rocks in comparison.

Rhysand frowned. Not that he was vain or anything, but ouch.

Really? Even me?

You shot him a quick evaluating look. What a vain fairy, you thought. Did he even need to ask?

You're the exception.

A charming smile rose on his lips. You might not be a lost cause after all.

Well... Rhys thought, nothing better to stop you from thinking about your psychotic crushes... he offered you a sparkling cup, than fairy wine.

"So you're not angry with me?" you tested the waters, finally speaking aloud. He grinned at you, and that look alone was enough to make anyone swoon (even your villainess-enamoured self).

"Not at all, and I must admit Feyre, you do look stunning in my clothes."

With a soft smile and one last wistful look towards Amarantha and Tamlin, you accepted the wine.