Fate had her remain with her father and youngest sister the day the debt collectors came.
It was fate that her father let her go.
It was fate that gave her a new husband, a new home.
It was fate that her younger sister disappeared.
It was fate that...
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Iyla walked from the drawing room to her bedroom as quickly as she could without appearing rude. Her thoughts had been so filled with Feyre's story that she didn't realize Nesta was seated on the end of her bed and looking at Iyla expectantly until she spoke.
"Making friends quickly these days, little sister?" Nesta asked Iyla with a small sneer.
"Here I thought you appeared in my room to apologize for leading me to believe Feyre was dead, sister," Iyla replied snidely.
"I will not. I wanted you to leave so you wouldn't be involved in whatever scheme Feyre is attempting to drag this family into with those males," Nesta stated, without remorse. "She was acting selfishly when she caught up with you and brought you back here. One of us would have been safe."
"If you think I've ever been safe, you are sorely mistaken," Iyla shot back and Nesta's eyes softened. "I'm glad to know what has happened to my sister and happy to know I might help her in her new life in some way."
"Iyla, think of your husband. If he were to catch word of you cavorting with Fae, you know that it would not bode well for you," Nesta explained.
The blonde sister sighed, knowing her eldest sister was right. "I can't abandon my sisters. Not after everything..."
"That's why you are and have always been the best of us," Nesta said in a rare moment of kindness. "Get dressed for dinner. You're running behind and I won't do for use to be ungracious hosts and make those beasts wait for a meal. Do you want my help?."
Iyla nodded. Even if the servants hadn't been dismissed when Feyre arrived with her guests, Iyla didn't allow anyone to help her dress. She didn't want to be, but she was ashamed of the scarring and bruises that typically adorned her body. It wouldn't do to have the servants telling her father about it anyway. He'd sold her. The transaction was done and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it now.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Opening her trunk, she removed a dress her husband had approved. When he had a maid pack her trunks for visits to her family, he usually requested rich fabrics to show off his wealth as well as borderline inappropriate necklines so her family would always be reminded that she was, in a sense, his whore. Her lord husband always happened to mark her exposed skin before her visits to embarrass everyone as well.
Nesta helped Iyla remove her dress and visibly frowned at the excessive amount of bruises that painted her body.
"It's fine, Nesta," Iyla told her sister when she felt her pause. She stepped out of the dress her sister had undone and started pulling a fresh one on. "I would love to borrow that cream shaw you wore the last time I was here. I'm not sure the neckline on this is appropriate for dinner with the present company."
"Of course, Iyla. I'll grab it, and Elain," Nesta said, shaking off her own thoughts at seeing Iyla's body.
Iyla met Nesta and Elain in the hallway a few minutes later. Elain didn't hold her gasp when she saw the handprints on her twins neck. "I thought you said he was getting better," her sweet sister said when she lifted her hands to ghost the bruises.
