A Court of Tears and Starlight

Spying at Night

FEYRE

I sit at the dinner table, surrounded by Rhysand's council. Apparently Rhysand's court only dined together twice a week. The past three nights I had been granted the luxury of dining alone in my rooms, but not tonight.

Early this evening he came to me. Once again calculated and masked. He had appeared in the seat under the window, causally lounging with his legs curled over one of the large upholstered arms. He stretched out and and threw me a smirk to where I sat curled on the rug by the fire.

I stared back at him, equally guarded and too stubborn to speak first.

"What's wrong darling? Did you miss me that much?... Come now there is no need to pout about it".

My glare deepened and he gave a lofty self-satisfied laugh.

"Well I'm here to make it up to you now" he continued. "Tonight you are to be my distinguished guest at the Night council."

I sighed with resignation. I knew from past experience that when Rhys was in this mood that there was no room for negotiation.

.... "Bad day?" I asked, instead of responding to his request.

His slight fidget was the only sign that alerted me to that fact that my comment had found its mark. It was his turn to narrow his glare at me.

"Well something has you royally pissed off" I retorted.

"I am the High Lord of the Night Court" he replied in a cold detached voice. "But maybe that is too much for your illiterate mind to comprehend" he said snidely.

"...after all I have seen that decrepit hovel you grew up in".

I felt shame and anger burn on my checks as I looked down at the floor.

The chair creaked as he rose.

"See you in an hour" he said.

"Oh and Feyre... Be a good girl now, at least try to look your best for me"

He left.

I felt a warm sensation as a few rebellious tears splashed down my cheeks. I scrubbed them away furiously, refusing to cry over such a monster.

I was fuming. How dare he treat me like that. That arrogant, rude... "Bastard" I cursed. Stamping my foot on the floor.

What the hell was wrong with him. He was worse than Nesta had been at the peak of her mood swings. One minute he was charming and clever and surprisingly gentle, the next he was like a volatile tempest, ravaging everything in his wake.

"Whatever!" I snapped at no one in particular.

"You can get royally stuffed!!! ...I don't care about you anyway" I yelled.

I kicked open the dressing room door, hearing the door frame splinter as the door swung furiously open.

As if on cue my servants appeared. I stalked the length of my wardrobe, glaring down each option until I found the perfect revenge.

"This one" I said, throwing the gown out and onto my bed.

I dressed with a vengeance, like my life depended on it. Like my whole life depended on settling this score.

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RHYSAND

I roared in my room and kicked a small stool with all of hell's fury. It shattered into pieces against the hard marble wall.