Dance of Fate

Chapter Sixty Eight

The atmosphere was unbearably tense as we all stood gathered in the Town House foyer. We'd all dressed in our usual attire; Azriel and Cassian in Illyrian leathers, Mor in a midnight blue, regal dress, Feyre in a magnificent dress that shone like a star, a crown upon her head. Rhysand, however, had yet to show.

I wore a gown I had never worn before. It was the black of shadows, not exactly modest, but not as revealing as the gowns I'd worn in Hybern. The neckline was a sharp V that plunged halfway down my breasts. The soft satin skirts pooled from my waist to my feet, the bodice adorned with purple jewels so dark they were almost the same black as the rest of the dress. The back was the main reason I had chosen it. It was low, open until the end of the small of my back. Leaving the brutal scars on display. The old ones, inflicted from my father, and the fresh ones, left by the King of Hybern. 

Let them see what I had endured to save my family. What I was willing to do to win this war. The price I had paid for the information I would share with them.

I supposed I looked every part the dark creature who left a trail of destruction wherever she walked, even without my power showing. But I didn't care. I wouldn't paint myself as a victim, but as a survivor. 

"What?" Feyre asked Cassian. The corners of the males lips twitched upwards. 

"You just look so..."

"Here we go," Mor grumbled. 

Cassian shot her a look. "Official." He then said to Feyre, waving a siphon covered hand in her direction. "Fancy."

I rolled my eyes at his sad attempt at a compliment. "Over five hundred years old," Mor said, shaking her head sadly, "a skilled warrior and general, famous throughout territories, and complimenting ladies is still something he finds next to impossible. Remind me why we bring you on diplomatic meetings?"

Beside me, wreathed in shadows, Azriel chuckled, the sound making my blood thrum. Cassian turned his glare to the shadowsinger. "I don't see you spouting poetry, brother."

Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly. "I don't need to resort to it."

I rolled my eyes again, then said to Cassian, "you'd be surprised." 

Cassian let out a bark of laughter, Mor and Feyre joining in. 

Azriel only grinned at me. Would you like me to give you metaphors expressing how beautiful you look?

I snorted aloud, though a light blush crept up on my face. Azriel only smiled again, as if he perceived the effect his words had on me. 

Rhysand at last appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a black jacket and matching pants, his wings spread out behind him. It seemed he had taken the 'showing our true selves' thing  rather literally. 

I smiled to myself as Rhysand's eyes gleamed when he beheld his mate. As he stepped off the stairs and took her hand in his. 

"I thought you were leaving." Nesta's voice sounded. 

I turned to look at the female, who was dressed in a gown of the darkest blue. Against my own will, my gaze slipped to Cassian. But the warrior only gave her a cursory once-over and turned toward Azriel and I. I forced myself to keep my expression in check. 

It's a long story, Azriel explained silently. 

Oh?

Mor told Nesta off for her... comments, towards Cassian. He explained. 

And Cassian?

That's much too complicated to tell you now. Especially since we're standing right in front of him.