A Court of Games and Fate

A Shared Gift

          For the first time in the almost fifty years of his capture, Rhysand felt an inkling of hope. After thinking hope was dead and buried once he heard the first cries of his child, the joy in this spec of hope was beyond anything he had ever felt. Cauldron knows how he was able to hide this excitement with his mask of indifference while he dealt with the aftermath of Andromeda's fit.

          She was like him. His daughter, by the grace of the mother, had received his daemati skills. The one skill that gives the two of them the possibility of an advantage over Amarantha. Only, Rhysand needed to ensure Andromeda was not lost to her mother, or else this hope for an advantage could quickly turn into danger for himself.

          After Andromeda's fit, Amarantha slyly demanded Rhysand deal with it as she regained control within the court. He was more than happy to follow as Eris carried his daughter out of the throne room and rushed her to her chambers. The lord had to threaten Eris to leave her to her maid, a move that he knew was risky, but Rhysand would be damned if he let Eris in on this little secret. Now, with a bathed and freshly clothed daughter sleeping peacefully in front of him, he began plotting.

          Focusing was difficult for the male though, as he looked down on his daughter. Only seventeen years old, the only thing she knew was Under the Mountain. Rhysand's heart seized to the point where he thought it could give out. His blood. His, yet not. Seventeen years of watching and letting Amarantha control his child, just as she controlled every other being in this wretched place. In her sleep, Andromeda looked even younger. So small and frail. Pale from never seeing the sun, a malnourishment she didn't even realize she had. If Rhysand didn't know any better, he would think the female was years younger than she was. Her angular face was similar to Amarantha's, but luckily for her, that was where the similarities stopped. Her dark, raven curls cascaded down her pillow, reminding him so much of another female he had lost lifetimes ago. As soon as her eyes would open, they would be his own staring right back at him. Andromeda was without a doubt his, and with her daemati powers blossoming, Rhysand was reconsidering his original plan of keeping himself distant from her.

          With the confirmation from the maid and the arousal of power, it was clear that Andromeda was experiencing her first bleed and with it, Rhysand knew he was running out of time to do something. Once Amarantha is aware of her predicament, it won't be long before she calls on the betrothal to Eris and officially throws her into her rightful position in the court. For all Rhysand knew, Andromeda wanted this to happen. However, there was the fear that he felt from her earlier pushing his hope forward. Fear for what? He couldn't tell, but he must find out. He won't let this hope fade.

          Andromeda's eyes fluttered open after what felt like minutes. The panic, the pain, all of it, was pushed back to the front of her mind as she gasped and leaped up from where she lay. Strong hands immediately gripped her shoulders, holding her in her place.

          "Andromeda. Andromeda!" the voice of her father gently called to her. Andromeda looked around and realized she was in her private chambers. In her bed. A quick once-over told her that nobody else was in the room, but it was the silence that allowed her to relax. No more voices were crowding her mind.

          "Father," she rasped. "I- I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me."

          "You need to rest."

          Andromeda gave her father a once over. He seemed to have been resting in a chair beside her bed. How long had he been there? Why was he the one here and not her maid? Anxiety coursed through the female as she thought through the possibilities. Her mind felt fuzzy though, like a stuffy room.