Females were very rare in the night court's ruling family as it was, all either die young or end up forgotten in the abyss of history.
Rhysand ever thought he'd have to father one of these, in fact, he did't believe he even deserve to be a father, u...
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"Come back ! Even as a shadow, even as a dream."
She hated staying confined in her room, she hated every second she spent inside, every breath she took felt like the rarest air between the tears that had finally dried up on her cheeks.
How pathetic, she thought.
her promise not to cry had only lasted until she had slipped to her room quite some time ago, she couldn't even recall how long, she only knew that she had drifted on and off sleep for what felt like a heartbeat, thinking that maybe it was just a nightmare.
It wasn't one.
It was a day terror.
A very real one, not a picture, not a mind hack. A truth. A reality. A fact.
And she didn't even how it felt. Just hollow emptiness, layers of nothing upon nothing. She could no longer feel anything, and it killed her, knowing that she should be feeling things.
Every cell of hers was paralyzed, frozen in space and time as she held the old, ever present Rhysie against her chest. Something to hold on to. Something to make sure that she could still at least feel it's soft fabric against her skin.
Breathe... Breathe... Breathe...
She had to remind herself with every passing moment, to breathe through the knot inside her chest, to breathe through the lump inside her throat.
Breathe... Breathe... Breathe...
The door cracked open, she didn't even care enough to look who got in. Didn't care enough to use her voice and kick them out of her small, new grave.
"Get up..." Amren's voice echoed between the dark walls "Enough crying for you, little girl. This will not bring him back."
She wanted to scoff. Her father's second in command always did an admirable job of ignoring Elayla, as if she never existed at all. Maybe because she saw her as a mistake, a lapse of judgment of two people, drunk and in the deep seas of dangerous lust.
Sometimes, Elayla saw herself as such, too.
"Respectfully." She croaked out, her voice scratchy and cracking "Leave my room."
"No, I'm not." Amren states "I take my orders from Rhy-."
At the mere mention of his name, Elayla's temper flared. "Do not bring him into this." She glared at the ancient one.
"So you're asking me to let you die of sorrow after all the years your father had spent keeping you alive?" Amren hissed, clearly not enjoying Layla's defiance.
"He is not here!" Layla straightened in her bed "He is not here, don't try guilt tripping me into things by using baba. You have no right."
"Listen to me carefully, girl." Amren spoke, her tone taming down "There is nothing we can do to bring Rhys from Under The Mountain, right now. He left this city for us to protect, he trusted us with the safety of his home. So now you have two options."
Amren stepped up closely, looking Elayla straight in the eyes, violet meeting silver "You either stay here, wallow up in your tears and waste your father's efforts over you like the child you are. Or you get up, keep your head up and sharpen yourself like the heir you're supposed to be."
The choices made her swallow back, watching Amren turn her back to walk away, leaving her to her own demons and shadows and monsters.
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