A Court of Games and Fate

A Visitor

          Andromeda was impressed with her mother's dedication to keeping her imprisoned below their court. Surely by now, the court was aware of her absence and questioning? At the very least, Eris must be losing his mind over her disappearance after being left alone with the queen. Disappointment had riddled her during the early days in the cell. Disappointment that the male hadn't cared enough to come check on her. It was silly, though. Realistically, her mother had thrown guards onto the Vanserra heir's coattails in order to keep him away from the prison. But reality was questionable. Her mother's words were not. This is the love you deserve.

          Spending days upon days in a cell with nothing but dirt and stones to entertain herself was maddening. Andromeda had to give it to Feyre for not going insane so far but at least the human had the reprieve of attending the nightly parties. Andromeda was kept locked away. Luckily, her father was working overtime to keep her entertained. Rhysand would flood her mind with his happiest memories of home, going into detail about each member of his proclaimed inner circle. Through each flash of evenings in Velaris, snowball fights, and family dinners, Andromeda was getting to know more and more about the people known as Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren. The four people that her father promises will welcome her with open arms as a member of their family. The princess hoped he was right, but found the hope to be futile. Her more bitter thoughts were convincing her otherwise. Hope, though. She had to push to have some inkling of hope. At least her father's hope was somewhat infectious. He would just need to hope enough for the both of them.

          Feyre was decent enough company... whenever she was conscious and aware of her surroundings. Unfortunately for Andromeda, those moments were few and far between down here.

          "You would think I was down here with a corpse," she had said to her father one morning after Feyre was brought back to her cell. "Surely it couldn't hurt if she were a little more lucid?"

          "I only advise her to drink," her father defended. "I never control how much she drinks. Who am I to stop her if she wishes to drink to forget?"

          Andromeda couldn't blame anybody for that. Anybody but her mother. Maybe Tamlin.

          Still, the punishment persisted.

          Andromeda assumed it was early morning, considering Feyre had been placed back into her cell only a couple of hours ago. Sleep was fleeting, what with the lack of an actual bed and all. Exhaustion wracked her body, but she knew she was not getting any more sleep. Instead, she paced her cell, listening to the light breathing of Feyre's sleeping self. It was the most at peace Andromeda ever heard her.

          The punishment had gone on for just over a fortnight by Andromeda's calculations. In the beginning, she was pitiful and in a lousy mood. With discomfort, isolation, and lack of sleep and full meals, the princess had been at a whole new level of self-pity. Witnessing the treatment of Feyre and the ways she chose to escape helped her reign the bad attitude in. Instead, it has morphed into something else. Acceptance. Andromeda did deserve this punishment. Maybe not for the reasons her mother intends, but regardless, being treated as a prisoner in her own court was what she deserved. At least in this position, she finally is receiving the level of treatment most of Prythian has had to endure for nearly half a century. With this treatment, she is receiving penance for her role in her mother's tyranny.

          Andromeda was busying herself by drawing little swirls and stars in the dirt lining the cell's stone floor. Humming a soft melody she remembered from her father's visions, she almost missed the light footsteps entering the dungeon. If it weren't for the immediate pull she felt and the scent of fire and apples reaching her nose, she might have missed him.