𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 ━━━ ✧ ⋆ （ acotar ）

✧ ˚ 𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

✧ ˚ 𝙁𝙀𝙔𝙍𝙀 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐌 as she was shoved into the massive, dark bedroom. It was lit with only a few candles, and the darker, more cautious parts of her mind whispered that she shouldn't be there.

She resisted the urge to step back out the door as one of her guards sneered at her, and pointed to the fire place. "Servant spilled lentils in the ash." He tossed her a bucket without crossing the open door frame, eyes flicking towards a door that led to what must have been a bathroom, the red of his skin turning pale. "Clean it up before the master returns, or he'll peel off your skin in strips."

A slammed door, the clicking of a lock, and Feyre was alone. A small shudder ran down her spine. Whatever, whoever, had them so terrified had her veins buzzing with restrained terror. Deciding she did not want to find out who 'the master' was, for however strangely he had said it, she briskly walked over to the fireplace and set her bucket down.

She cringed when she set eyes on her impossible task, glancing around the room. Even if she wished to escape, there were no other exits besides the one she had just been thrusted through. The bed pressed against the far wall was enormous, its sheets made of black silk ruffled slightly at the edge closest to the chair set in the corner. The only other sign of life in the room was the brush set upon the top surface of a dresser, and even from the distance she was at, she could see the long strands of hair caught between the bristles.

For half a second, she assumed the owner of the room was a female, before remembering that the guards had referred to them as 'he'. Besides, longer hair on males seemed to be more common in Prythian than in the Continent.

With a sigh of resolve, Feyre knelt before the fireplace and began her task.

Fifteen minutes in, there was a small bang in the connecting room. Feyre froze, fear turning her veins to ice as she swiftly stood and searched the room for a weapon. Perhaps mercifully, the fire poker was two paces to her left. She grabbed it, her knuckles tense as she stood waiting, listening, prepared for whoever stepped out of that room.

The knob started to turn, and Feyre lifted the poker higher. It opened, and out steppedㅡ

"You're back already? I thought you said it would be anㅡ" Asteria paused as she set eyes on Feyre, blue eyes widening in disbelief.

The fire poker fell from her tight grasp, clattering to the ground. "Steri," she breathed. At the sound of her voice, Asteria surged forward, and Feyre met her halfway. Their grip on each other was mutually crushing, but neither rather cared in the moment.