𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚃𝚘 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔬𝔫𝔢

Feyre had come to the decision to allow me to join them for the High Lord meeting in the Dawn Court. I felt it was ridiculous that she could tell me what I could and couldn't do--only being two years older than me. But that was a conversation for later--when there wasn't a war looming.

Mor had picked out a dress for me and taken me through the proper etiquette of a meeting--then explained to me that all that etiquette would go out the window within the first ten minutes, when a fight would inevitably break out.

I was prepared to tell my story if I had to. I was ready to tell them how I had been taken from my bed in the middle of the night, tied up like an animal, and forced into that freezing cold water even as I sobbed and fought. I was ready to tell them how painful the transformation had been.

Mor and I dressed for the meeting together, something we'd grown fond of doing. I had chosen a midnight blue gown from her closet with revealing panels, and a flowing skirt. She wore it like a queen.

For me, she chose a black dress that fit to my frame, similar to the one I wore to the Court of Nightmares. But this one was much more sophisticated.

When we had done our hair and makeup, we both stood, facing each other and holding hands as we studied the beauty in one another.

"Are you ready?" I asked her very quietly.

"As ready as I can be," she grimaced.

I planted a soft kiss to her lips, one of encouragement. I hated that we had to leave her room. In these walls, we could be ourselves. We were free to show affection to one another without judgement. But as soon as we left, we had to put that act on again. And she played that role so well. The party girl act that covered up her lingering glances, her true feelings.

When we got into the foyer, we were met with the rest of her family. All except for Rhysand. I stood between Feyre and Mor, trying not to stand too close to the latter. I knew Feyre was nervous about me going, and it was unlikely that she'd let me out of her sight.

I noticed Cassian glancing over at Feyre every few seconds, and I could tell it was irritating her. I bit my lip to keep a smile back. I had been wary of Cassian for a long while, due to the comment he had made about my disability when we first met. But over time, I'd grown fond of him.

"What?" Feyre demanded, turning on the male.

"You just look so ..." he began, lips twitching up.

"Here we go," Mor muttered from beside me with an exasperated sigh.

"Official," Cassian said with an incredulous look in her direction. "Fancy."

"Over five hundred years old," Mor said, shaking her head, "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?"

Azriel chuckled quietly from where he stood in the doorway, his shadows clinging to him. Cassian glared at his brother.

"I don't see you spouting poetry, brother," Cassian shot. Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly.

"I don't need to resort to it."

Mor burst into laughter, and Feyre snorted. I even allowed a grin to break upon my face, but Cassian jabbed Feyre in the ribs.

Rhys finally appeared at the top of the stairs, causing our laughter to halt. We'd been waiting for him for almost ten minutes now. Rhys stepped off the stairs and took my sister's hand.