Acotar retelling

Party

The ball was a blur of waltzing and preening, of bejewelled aristos, of wine and toasts in my honour. I lingered at Nesta's side, because she seemed to do a good job of scaring off the too-curious suitors who wanted to know more about my fortune. But I tried to smile, if only for Elain, who flitted about the room, personally greeting each guest and dancing with all their important sons.

Two in the morning, and yet the party was showing no signs of slowing. My father held court with several other merchants and aristo men to whom I had been introduced but whose names I'd instantly forgotten. Elain was laughing among a circle of beautiful friends, flushed and brilliant. Nesta had silently left at midnight, and I didn't bother to say good-bye as I finally slipped upstairs.

The following afternoon, bleary-eyed and quiet, we all gathered at the lunch table. I thanked my sister and father for the party, and dodged my father's inquiries regarding whether any of his friends' sons had caught my eye.

The summer heat had arrived, and I propped my chin on a fist as I fanned myself. I'd slept fitfully in the heat last night. It was never too hot or too cold at Tamlin's estate.

"I'm thinking of buying the Beddor land," my father was saying to Elain, who was the only one of us listening to him. "I heard a rumour it'll go up for sale soon, since none of the family survived, and it would be a good investment property. Perhaps one of you girls might build a house on it when you're ready."

Elain nodded interestedly, but I blinked. "What happened to the Beddors?"

"Oh, it was awful," Elain said. "Their house burned down, and everyone died. Well, they couldn't find Clare's body, but ..." She looked down at her plate. "It happened in the dead of night—the family, their servants, everyone. The day before you came home to us, actually."

"Clare Beddor," I said slowly.
"Our friend, remember?" Elain said.
I nodded, feeling Nesta's eyes on me.

I'm sorry Clare.

My stomach turned over, and I fought against the nausea that roiled within me.
"Feyre?" my father asked.
I put a shaking hand over my eyes, breathing in. "Excuse me."

I retreated to my room and Nesta soon followed.

I lowered my hand and looked at Nesta. "You must listen very carefully," I said to her, swallowing hard. "Everything I have told you must remain a secret. You do not come looking for me. You do not speak my name again to anyone."

Nesta held my gaze. Unflinching.

"I think something very bad might be happening in Prythian," I said softly. I'd never learned what warning signs Tamlin had instilled in their glamours to prod my family to run, but I wasn't going to risk relying solely on them. Not when Clare had been taken, her family murdered ... because of me. Bile burned my throat.

I went on, "If you won't leave, then hire guards—hire scouts to watch the wall, the forest. The village, too." I rose from my seat. "The first sign of danger, the first rumour you hear of the wall being breached or even something being strange, you get on a ship and go. You sail far away, as far south as you can get, to someplace the faeries would never desire."

"The Beddors," she said. "That was meant to be us. But you gave them a fake name—those wicked faeries who threatened your High Lord."

"Not mine. But... yes." I could see the plans calculating in her eyes. "Is there going to be an invasion?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's happening. I was told that there was a kind of sickness that had made their powers weaken or go wild, a blight on the land that had damaged the safety of their borders and could kill people if it struck badly enough. They—they said it was surging again... on the move. The last I heard, it wasn't near enough to harm our lands. But if the Spring Court is about to fall, then the blight has to be getting close, and Tamlin was one of the last bastions keeping the other courts in check—the deadly courts. I think he's in danger."