A VOW OF STARS ---- [ACOTAR]

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

please don't let them look through the curtains

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The mortal grounds were ot as Elayla imagined them to be. In fact, the words she could use to describe that feeling was 'underwhelmed'.

She was underwhelmed because a huge chunk of her heart still believed her father's old tales, of the mortals cultures and customs, of how they were all different in way no one could imagine. Layla had hoped that she'd glimpse some trace of their authenticity, but there was none.

They stood by the door, Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian and herself, carefully hidden under her father's Glamour not to get discovered and potentially hunted for their Fae decency.

"Do you really think Feyre's sisters would actually trust us and let us into this... Horror House?" She muttered for herself, not really knowing who she was adressing.

"Well if you had siblings and they brought over their friends, would you trust them?" Cassian asked quietly.

"Well, depends on the friends, but I don't have siblings." She pointed out.

"Forget about siblings, if I brought over friends, would you trust them?" Rhysand cut their conversation short, and Elayla knew the question behind it. 'Do you trust my judgement for having faith in Feyre?'

Elayla had no idea what to answer, because yes, she did trust him to keep everyone physically safe, but she knew for a fact that if offered another shot at saving them in spite of his own good, he'd take it again.

"Yes." She answered tentatively, hating the sound of admission on her lips. "Yes, I do."

One of Azriel's shadows squeezed her hand slightly, like they used to do when she was small and called for anyone without being heard, or like when he used to bring her home battered and bruised after yet another fight.

She took a deep inhaled as she watched the carriages of servants leaving the house, like they could feel their presence and they were running for their lives. Humans and Fae have not been the best friends in the past few centuries, after all.

With the departure of the last carriage, Feyre finally found it appropriate to open the door for the four of them, looking almost frail, like the ghost of her family's house turned her into the ghost of the little girl she used to be.

Elayla knew the feeling all too well, she was stuck into her childhood home too, trying not to shrink back into the confued and broken child her father had left behind.

"You'd think they'd been told plague had befallen the house," Rhysand was the first to break the ice, the tone of amusement in his voice only meant to comfort Feyre. Layla could feel it in her bones, the thread that tethered both of them.

She had iherited the daemati powers from her fathr, that much was true, but for whatever reason, she also had the ability of reading one's emotions, twist them and dim them and amplify them.

The irony of it was not los on her, of how she could feel people's feelings deep inside but no one would ever understand hers, and her thoughts would always remain lost in translation between her head and her tongue.

"My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles," Feyre explained, and for a split second, Elayla wondered what growing up with sisters was like. Were they close? Did they share stories and laughter and clothes?

Layla would never know, apparently, what she did know was that she haven't had many reasons to like the Cursebreaker's family, not after the tales she had told them about having to go and hunt to keep them from starving to death.

They all walked it, Feyre closing the door behind them, but the coldness of the weather was replaced with the coldness of wealth

Cassian's whistle was sharp and drawn out as he appraised the entryway golds, ornate carpeting, detailed portraiture, all the usual fineries as befitted the upper class. 

"Your father must be a fine merchant," He said. Feyre's face was tight. "I've seen castles with less wealth."

"My father is away on business," The Made Fae informed them, "and attending a meeting in Neva about the threat of Prythian."

"Prythian?" Cassian said, leaving behind the trinkets and bobbles for the first time to tune himself to Feyre. "Not Hybern?"

"It's possible my sisters were mistaken - your lands are foreign to them. They merely said 'above the wall.' I assumed they thought it was Prythian."

"If humans are aware of the threat, rallying against it," Azriel said, stepping up to Feyre quietly, "then it might give us an advantage when contacting the queens."

Elayla's shoulders stiffeed at the mention of them, and she wondered why the hell was Rhysand dragging her into that mission. She was no politician, she didn't have a single bone of diplomacy in her body, and her strategy was to be doubted.

"Or they migt take it as a sign that we're desperate enough to strike us." She winced, making the conversation quiet for what felt like ages.

Rhys sighed in exasperation, throwing her a tired glance. "Come," IHe told his mate... "Let's make this introduction."

Elayla almost hated that day as much as the day he left.