A Court of Games and Fate

Terms and Conditions

          Andromeda awoke this morning in a cold sweat, with panic coursing through her. Alone in her chambers, she scrambled out of her bed, frantically letting her eyes sweep the room. Nothing. It must have been a bad dream. One of those ones that didn't linger in her waking memory. The sinking feeling within her still remained as she slowly rose and began to attend to her morning needs.

          Her senses were groggy as if the effects of the wine from the night before were still lingering. With how much of the liquid she guzzled down, it was a likely assumption. The parties in the throne room have continued every night over the course of the last few weeks. An early celebration for her mother's assumed win. Andromeda was forced to attend for at least a portion of the evening, making her usual appearance as the Mountain's princess, hanging onto the arm of her beloved fiance. The couple stuck together during the parties, at the very least. She got the feeling that she was just as much of a relief to Eris as he was to her. The two developed a code for whenever Beron or the rest of the Vanserra clan were too much for either one. One discreet pinch of one's own ear and the two were off on another dance, giving them space to breathe.

          Ever since the evening of her birthday, Andromeda caught Lucien's attention on her more and more if he was actually around. The male wasn't held to the same standard as her in terms of attendance, so she didn't blame him for trying to avoid the nightly events as much as possible. She told herself it was a good thing, but she did miss his watchful gaze whenever his mismatched eyes weren't present. It was better for Lucien to stay away. For his sake. Andromeda had let her mask slip too far that night and he noticed. She has had to be far more careful as of recent, pretending to not acknowledge his existence. Now, all Andromeda could hope for was for Lucien to continue to be smart and out of the way.

          Rhysand continued playing his games with Feyre, and while Andromeda was enjoying seeing her mother become so riled up at the sight, she caught herself wishing that she was let in on the scheme. She wanted to help in any way she could, just as she told her father the other night during one of their talks that were becoming fewer and farther between. Keep playing your part, that is the best you can do right now, he had responded. Though she could not admit it outside of her more pitiful daydreams, Andromeda was glad to hide behind the hope he was finding through Feyre. As selfish as it was, it meant he wouldn't be disappointed in her own failure to act against her mother.

          As monotonous as the evening festivities were becoming, Andromeda knew her mother would eventually do something to bring in some entertainment, especially with the second task approaching. Last night, the princess was proven correct in her suspicions. As she had also suspected, what with his acting out, the entertainment was centered around her father. Andromeda had felt nothing but anger as her father was forced to dig into the mind of the Summer Court male who had attempted to escape. She watched as her father, in his cunning and cruel facade, had to kill the male in cold blood. The daemati gifts allowed mercy in providing the male with no pain as he was wasted, but that relief was not administered to the rest of the court.

          The low opinions of her father were never a secret to Andromeda. Sure, the fae within the court would hardly ever say their thoughts aloud when she was around, obviously, but that didn't mean she missed the harsh glares that were shot toward the High Lord of Night. Rhysand was a walking embodiment of nightmares. A cruel executioner. Her mother's whore, worst of all. Now that Andromeda was older and less grace was extended to her actions, she knew a lot of those similar whispers followed her. Needless to say, Andromeda did not stick around the party for long last night.

          The sinking pit of anxiety that held her gut in a vice grip remained all throughout her being tended to and dressed before being escorted to the task. Andromeda knew nothing about what her mother was going to put Feyre through today, but whatever it was, she did not need to be a seer to tell it was going to be horrible. Whatever fears were buzzing through her core did not help to rid that thought. She may not know how or what her father was already planning, but Andromeda was determined to ensure Feyre's success. So why did it feel so wrong?