𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

     I had always hated the Tithe. My personal belief was that it was cruel and unnecessary. We had more money than we needed. Why tax everyone?

    Tamlin had been off on business since we returned, so Feyre and I spent the week alone with each other. I couldn't complain, but I knew she missed him.

    Feyre and I had spent each night together to get each other through the nightmares. I would wake up sobbing, she would wake to hurl her guts up.

    I sat on my throne on the right side of Tamlin, Feyre on his left. I wore a golden tiara, adorned with emeralds that matched my eyes. I despised all the eyes on me. On all of us.

    I was bored out of my mind, and I could sense Feyre's boredom through the bargain tattoo, as well. Four hours came and went, and I was nearly asleep.

    Lucien stood at the foot of the dais, tallying every amount, armed to the teeth like the ten other sentries stationed through the hall.

    A water wraith approached, and Lucien's face tightened with disapproval. I shot him a glare for his judgement of the Lesser Fae.

"On behalf of the water-wraiths, I greet thee, High Lord," she spoke.

"Welcome," Tamlin nodded.

"Please, High Lord," the faerie begged. "There are no fish left in the lake." My face fell with pity, and I turned to my brother, hoping he would have mercy.

"Regardless, you are expected to pay," he replied. "There are no exceptions. You have three days to present what is owed—or offer double next Tithe." Disappointment settled in my gut.

"Please," she whispered, trembling. "There is nothing left in the lake."

"You have three days—"

"But we have no gold!"

"Do not interrupt me."

"Apologies, my lord."

"I think we can make an exception," I spoke up, shifting in my throne. Tamlin's head snapped on me, emerald eyes narrowing. "Just this once."

"It is not your place to make that decision," Tamlin said to me. He turned back to the water wraith. "You have three days to pay, or bring double next month. If you fail to do so, you know the consequences."

      After a final, hopeless look at Tamlin, she walked from the chamber. Feyre turned to Tamlin, her face settled with pity.

"We dont need a basket of fish," she murmured. "Why make her suffer like that?"

"I cannot make exceptions. Once you do, everyone will demand the same treatment," he frowned.

"But we dont need these things. Why do we need a golden fleece, or a jar of jam? If she has no fish left, three days wont make a difference. Why make her starve? Why not help her replenish the pond?" she wondered.

"Because thats the way it is. Thats the way my father did it, and his father, and the way my son shall do it. Someday."

"Do you really want to model your behavior after our father?" I challenged, a hand reaching up to stroke the scars on my covered shoulder.

"Do not twist my words," he warned me.

"We could still help her—find some way to keep that pond stocked," Feyre went on.

"We have enough to deal with as it is. Giving handouts wont help her in the long run."

    Making sure our people had food didn't seem like a handout to me. It seemed like the actions of a good High Lord.