ACOTAR Oneshots

Losing Your Memories (part 2)

Tamlin looks unsure at my request. He keeps darting his eyes between me and Rhysand. Even though there are many in the room with us, some who are even hurt, it is absolutely silent. All eyes are on us.

"Maybe," Tamlin starts, "maybe, we should speak in a more secluded location," he says, speaking to me and the Highlord of the Night Court. About the last thing I want is to be in a more secluded room with him, but I trust Tamlin. So I nod my head in a silent agreement.

My eyes dart to Rhysand, and he's looking at me with that sad expression again. It's completely unnerving. I don't do anything to hide that emotion from him, letting him see all of my discomfort with his concern. Rhysand looks to the floor for a moment, before giving his own nod to Tamlin.

"You may use any of the open rooms down the hall to your left," says one of the Highlords. Tamlin thanks him and heads for the door with me right at his heels. I follow him down the long hallway, lined with emaculate paintings all the way down. If I were in any other position, I'd be stopping at each one to admire every detail, but I have way bigger things to think about right now.

At the sound of Rhysand's footsteps behind me, my shoulders tense. I don't like him in a position where he could strike my weak spot—not that I really have a particularly strong spot against the most powerful Highlord in Pythian—but still. But to guard my back, I'd have to turn around and look him in the eyes, something I'm not up to doing right now after learning about...all he did.

When we come up to a room far enough away from the main meeting room we just left, Tamlin turns to face us. "You should wait in the hall while I speak with him first," Tamlin says to me, inclining his head at Rhysand.

"Don't order her around," Rhysand growls. "Not again."

The idea of Rhysand sticking up for me puts a weird feeling in my stomach. And his demand towards Tamlin makes me feel the overwhelming need to stand up for him.

"It's fine," I say. "I could use some air anyway." And it's true. There's so many questions spinning around my head, I can't figure out which ones are most important. "Come get me when you finish," I say to Tamlin, and refuse to turn my head to look at Rhysand as he strolls past me for the door. When it closes behind them, I wait to hear the faintest sound of speech, but after a minute of nothing, I realize they must have a sound barrier up.

I sigh deeply, finally letting the tension drop out of my shoulders. Dropping to the floor, I bring my knees in tight and cover my face with my hands. I breathe in as deep as I can, forcing precious air into my lungs, before pushing it all out again. Six years. Six fucking years. So much must have happened.

Why would Tamlin even need to talk to Rhysand before we leave? It's not like we need his permission? Or maybe...maybe we do. I made a deal to stay with him for one week every month. I have no reason to believe he didn't go through with it. We have a child together...

I run my hands over the fabric on my knees to bring myself some semblance of comfort from of that horrifying fact. Yes, the child may be cute, but I don't think I could ever get over how he got into this world. Pure violation. It had to have been. I would never cheat on Tamlin, especially with someone like Rhysand.

My hand scrapes against a jewel on my dress, and I only now realize what I'm wearing. A long, black, gorgeous gown with silver jewels trailing down the sides. It's not at all Spring Court attire. But...the color does remind me of Rhysand. Do the people of his court dress in all black like him too? It would suit them all. But if I'm wearing clothes from is court, did I come with him to this meeting? Is it his week of the month?