𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 ━━━ ✧ ⋆ （ acotar ）

✧ ˚ 𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

✧ ˚ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 from a fountain pen onto paper. He angled his head in that predatory way of his, gaze still locked to Asteria's, who stood utterly still, breathless, as he held a hand up towards Tamlin and Lucien and their sentries, their swords half-drawn. But at that handㅡa single, wordless warningㅡthey froze.

The world around them faded into silence, like it awaited its transcendence with bated breath. And, through the chaos raging in her beating heartㅡone, two, and three beatsㅡit was only them. She and Rhys. If Asteria were truly starlight personified, then Rhys was the moon, eclipsing her in his grand aura. He was Night Incarnate, and she was the starry, celestial sky that accompanied him.

Every inch of Asteria's veins buzzed with a longing to run to him, to leap into his arms. She ached for the comfort of his touch, for the memory of his reassuring kiss upon her brow bone, and wondered, for a fleeting moment, what their guests may do if she gave in to those urges. But, instead, she remained rooted in place, allowing Feyre to back creep towards her until they were able to grasp each other tightly.

The eldest was still shaking, but the reassuring hold eased it somewhat, reminding her that she was not alone in this.

Rhys raised his eyebrows as he observed the scenery with feigned disinterest. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he crooned, "What a pretty little wedding."

His eyes returned towards Asteria, whose face burned with shame when he paused on the sight of her declining mental health and narrowed. Darkness pulsed, and his upper lip twitched as though resisting the desire to snarl.

The words seemed to shake Tamlin out of whatever stunned stupor he had been put in by Rhys' utter audacity, because he growled, stalking towards them with his claws sprung. "Get the hell out."

"Oh, I don't think so," Rhys said, clicking his tongue. "Not when I need to call in my bargain with dear Feyre here."

"Like hell you will," Lucien hissed, joining his High Lord's side. Rhys merely rolled his eyes like he was simply a pest, looking towards Asteria. She blocked out their bickering, pointedly ignoring the burning feeling of his gaze on her skin in favor of checking on her sister in deep concern.

Feyre was pale, glancing between Rhys and Tamlin with panic-ridden fervor. The commotion had nudged her out of her own mind, but there was still a sliver of fear in her. Knowing what she did now, Asteria could no longer question as to why. She took Feyre's face into her hands.

"Feyre," Asteria murmured softly.

"No," she muttered weakly, shaking her head. Her wide eyes were planted on Rhys now. Along with the fear, there was that stubborn fire that was more recognizable to Asteria, a fire she had not seen since Under the Mountain. A small victory, but one that filled her with relief nonetheless. "Not now."