𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

     Feyre awoke four hours later, shaking me. I felt well rested when I sat up, though I missed my large, pink room from home.

      Rhys was waiting at the front door when we got dressed and came downstairs. I was wearing a simple, blue dress I had found. I was able to move freely in it, unlike the stuffy dresses I was forced into at home.   

      It was strange, being allowed to choose my own dress. I felt like maybe I had done it wrong, chosen the wrong dress.

      Feyre had reminded me of the weather and made me put a coat over it and a pair of white tights under it.

"Those two certainly like to fuss," Rhysand said as we headed out the front door.

      A small, manicured front lawn was bordered with a waist-high wrought iron fence and empty flower beds, all leading toward a clean street of pale cobblestones.

     High Fae in various forms of dress meandered by: some in coats like mine to ward against the crisp air, some wearing mortal fashions with layers and poofy skirts and lace, some in riding leathers.

      Not one of them looked toward the house. As if they either didnt know or werent worried that their own High Lord dwelled in one of the many marble town houses lining either side of the street, each capped with a green copper roof and pale chimneys that puffed tendrils of smoke into the brisk sky. In the distance, children shrieked with laughter.

     Feyre staggered to the front gate, unlatching it. The street sloped down, revealing more pretty town houses and puffing chimneys, more well-fed, unconcerned people. And at the very bottom of the hill curved a broad, winding river, sparkling like deepest sapphire, snaking toward a vast expanse of water beyond.

     The city had been built like a crust atop the rolling, steep hills that flanked the river, the buildings crafted from white marble or warm sandstone. Ships with sails of varying shapes loitered in the river, the white wings of birds shining brightly above them in the midday sun.

     No monsters. No darkness. Not a hint of fear, of despair. Nothing like the horrific stories of the Night Court that I'd been raised on.

"The middle peak," Rhys said from behind us pointing to the mountains in the distance, "Thats my other home in this city. The House of Wind. We'll be dining there tonight."

"How?" Feyre asked, and we both knew what she meant. How had this beautiful city remained untouched for the last fifty years?

"Luck."

"Luck? Yes, how lucky for you," Feyre said quietly, but not weakly, "that the rest of Prythian was ravaged while your people, your city, remained safe. Did you even think for one moment to extend that luck to anywhere else? Anyone else?"

"Other cities," he said calmly, "are known to the world. Velaris has remained secret beyond the borders of these lands for millennia. Amarantha did not touch it, because she did not know it existed. None of her beasts did. No one in the other courts knows of its existence, either."

"How?"

"Spells and wards and my ruthless, ruthless ancestors, who were willing to do anything to preserve a piece of goodness in our wretched world."

"And when Amarantha came," Feyre said, and I flinched at her name, "you didnt think to open this place as a refuge?"

"When Amarantha came," he said, his eyes flashing, "I had to make some very hard choices, very quickly."

"I'm assuming you won't tell us about it," I spoke up, knowing because I was never told anything. It was a frustrating existence, always being kept in the dark.