A Court of Chaos and Confusion - An ACOTAR Rewrite

Chapter 20

I awoke when the sun was high after tossing and turning all night, watching my door in case a certain someone came prowling.

The servants were sleeping in after their night of celebrating, so I made myself a bath and took a good, long soak. Try as I might to forget what happened last night, I had an enormous bruise on my neck from where he'd bitten me, making that impossible. After bathing, I dressed and sat at the vanity to braid my hair.

I opened the drawers of the vanity, searching for a scarf or something to cover the bruise peeking over the collar of my blue tunic, but then paused and glared at myself in the mirror. He'd acted like a brute and a savage, and if he'd come to his senses by morning then seeing what he'd done would be minimal punishment. 

Sniffing, I opened the collar of my tunic and left my hair down around my shoulders, tucking a few dark strands behind my ears. 

As I left my room the confidence I'd had a few moments before started leaking out of me with every step I took down the hallway. Maybe I'd flee to the gardens where nobody could see me or the bruise he'd left. How would I even confront the High Lord of the Spring Court over his brutish behavior? He had claws and canines under that High Fae skin of his, he'd proven last night that he had no qualms about taking what he wanted - putting me in my place. What would I even say?

Lost in thought as I was I didn't notice the fox-masked High Fae until I'd barreled right into him at the top of the stairs, nearly losing my balance in the process. Lucien grabbed me by the shoulders, righting me.

"Sorry!" I blurted, taking a step back and looking up at him. He had a lazy grin on his face, his eyes still clouded with sleep. "Someone had a long night last night," I eyed him. "I hope your dalliances were... fruitful." I cringed, looking away as I absentmindedly began braiding a strand of my hair. 

He chuckled, "Afternoon Feyre, sleep well?" I felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck, and he stiffened. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded.

Fuck, I hadn't even figured out what I was going to say, I should have just stayed locked in my room all day. I took a deep breath and met his gaze directly. Fine, if we were going to do this, I wouldn't cower. "Ask Tamlin. He did it." Venom coated my words but I refused to lower my gaze. 

The amusement was gone from his face, replaced with something else I couldn't quite place. His hand, which had been on my shoulder, traveled down to my wrist as he practically dragged me down the stairs behind him to the dining room, where I knew lunch was usually served for Tamlin and Lucien. 

When he flung open the doors, Tamlin was sprawled in his chair at the end of the table looking every bit the overindulgent faerie from the stories. He didn't so much as acknowledge us as Lucien pushed me deeper into the room. Once his eyes took us in they focused right on that spot above my tunic collar, the proof of his brutish and unwelcome behavior from the night before.

Lucien looked from Tamlin, to me, then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement, pointing to the ugly purple mark. 

"I bit her," Tamlin said simply, not pausing as he cut his steak. "We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite."

I straightened. He hadn't denied it.

"She seems to have a death wish," he went on, cutting his meat. The claws stayed retracted but pushed against the skin above his knuckles. My throat closed up. Oh, he was mad – furious – but somehow managed to keep his anger on a tight leash, for once. "So, if Feyre can't be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences."

"Accountable?" I sputtered. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!"

Lucien said nothing, letting go of my wrist and walking around the table to his usual seat, leaving me standing there, my hands balled into fists at my side.