Chapter 11

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Feyre

I made my way downstairs and walked into the familiar dining room that had once felt so homely. The table was set for three and I let out an audible sigh of relief. I would not have to deal with Ianthe at the dinner. Lucien and Tamlin lounged in a pair of comfy chairs, seemingly at ease. Tamlin's golden hair glowed in the light of the candles and caressed his shoulders as he turned his head towards me. His eyes lightened at the sight of me and he stood in a fluid motion. Every step he took was lined with masculine power and once again, I understood the human I had been. He was indeed the very image of protection.

"Feyre." He said as a way of greeting, pressing his lips against my cheek. His obvious happiness made me queasy and I struggled against a need to scream at the top of my lungs. Not one hour ago, the two of them had been at each other's throats and now, they acted as if nothing had happened. On top of that, the king threatened our very existence and controlled our lives. How could they ignore this? How could Tamlin look at me with such painfully deep devotion. Would he really bring down the world as we knew it for love? I wasn't even his mate! The dining room walls closed in on me and I trembled with anger, disgust and.... Fear, I realised. I feared Tamlin's undying devotion to me. Feared its consequences.

"Let's eat." Lucien interrupted my stream of thoughts.

"Only the three of us?" I asked, secretly wondering what would keep Ianthe from dinner. She had seemed hell bend on ruining my day.
"Yes, Ianthe is praying." Tamlin said stiffly.

I smiled, in answer. Good. I had had enough drama for one day.

As we sat at the table, eating one exquisite course after another, I couldn't help but compare this lavish affair, to the delicious, yet simple meals we enjoyed at the night court. I could almost hear Mor groan as Rhys and Amren, once again, threw themselves into a discussion that they knew none of them would win. I could imagine Cassian shovelling food into his mouth while he kept talking, annoying Mor with his bad manners. Azriel would, naturally, keep out of it all, but he would observe and maybe even give one of his rare smiles. There were no formalities or ranks to uphold.

Tamlin's voice interrupted my string of thoughts. "So, tomorrow Lucien will take you to the training fields and begin." I realised that he had been speaking to me for a while and I hadn't been paying attention.

"I'm sorry, what?

Tamlin gave me an indulgent smile "We have to start your training tomorrow. Lucien will take you to the training fields and go through basic combat techniques. Nothing too difficult, don't worry."

I bristled at the suggestion that I couldn't handle difficult, but merely said "and my... my powers." I purposely sounded insecure, as if I had no clue what those powers were.

"Yes, we'll have to figure them out too." His voice had grown darker than before.

I didn't want to go down that path right now, so I turned to Lucien. "When do we begin?"

"Tomorrow at dawn. So no sleeping in." His eyes glittered with what looked like excitement.

I grimaced, "Does it have to be that early?"

"Yes my lady." Lucien mocked "I have other obligations than trying to whip you into shape."

I snorted "We'll see if you can keep up."

"Big words from someone who only spends her time reading and painting. When was the last time you..." Lucien teased back, but his smile faltered as he opted not to finish his sentence. He had seen me defeat the Middengard, Under the Mountain. He had seen me in the woods, clad in Illyrian fighting gear, defending myself and Rhys. He might not know how extensive my training had been, but he knew that I had it in me. Knew that I could indeed take care of myself.

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