DISCONTINUED A Court Of Blood And Night (Tog & ACOTAR crossover)

4 - Feyre

It was as hideous as the last one had been, possibly even more. Poofy skirt and sleeves, decorated in ribbons and silken bows and glittering things-- white, of course. Not quite a twin to the other-- more extravagant, even. As if taunting the Night Court. A way to proclaim a victory they didn't actually have.

I forced a smile on my face, but Ianthe saw through it, this time, and her own smile faded. "You don't like it," she said, her face appropriately shadowed by the cowl of her hood.

I shrugged. "No. But it's a message-- anyone can see that. I'll wear it."

Ianthe's eyes positively sparkled. "You're going to be such a beautiful bride, Feyre," she assured me.

Yes. Especially since I'm not a gaunt skeleton, this time. I felt my face heat up from anger, but Ianthe beamed, mistaking it for an embarrassed blush.

Three weeks. Three weeks until this stupid wedding. Three weeks of putting up a front as a blushing, happy bride. Ugh.

"Let's take a break!" Ianthe said with a smile, noticing my sudden change of mood. "It's close to supper, anyway."

We left the room to go to the dining hall. Lucien was there, but Tamlin was nowhere to be seen. Lucien gave Ianthe a quick, wary smile, and looked up at me with narrowed eyes. He was so suspicious, so paranoid-- not that I blamed him. I'd shown no sign of fear or hatred when Tamlin mentioned the Night Court those first few times-- it wasn't until Tamlin mentioned that I seemed almost unfeeling when he talked about it that I realized, and I ended up making an excuse that I was "blocking off my emotions" or something like that. He and Ianthe had bought it. Lucien? Not so much.

"Feyre," Lucien acknowledged, bowing his head quickly, but there was a promise in his mismatched eyes: I will reveal who you are. Maybe not today, or even this year-- but one day, you'll slip, and I'll be there. Protective of his friend, his High Lord. It was admirable enough that I couldn't bring myself to hate him. And, out of all the people that could have been mates with Elain... Well, there were certainly worse. It certainly didn't mean I approved-- I was with Nesta on that one-- but I'd rather it be him than someone like Tamlin.

"Hello, Lucien," Ianthe said brightly. I was just about done with her preppiness, and I was oh, so desperate to knock out a few of her teeth. It'd be wonderful.

He nodded at her and said to both of us, "Tamlin will be here late. He's meeting with Hybern right now." Wonderful. Even Ianthe winced a bit at those words-- and she was the one who told Hybern about my sisters. I might not hate Lucien, but my hatred for Ianthe was limitless.

"Well," I said, "do you know how long it will be?"

Lucien shook his head. "Probably a while. You're free to go do whatever for a bit, if you'd like."

I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I went back to my room-- not Tamlin's-- and snatched a small piece of paper from the nightstand. It had only two words printed on it in looping, elegant letters: Any news?

I began writing. Tamlin's meeting with Hybern. Ianthe's planning to marry me and Tamlin on the Eve of the Summer Solstice. This dress is worse than the last one.

The paper disappeared, and I patiently waited. Five minutes later, the paper reappeared in my lap. I know about Tamlin's meeting with Hybern; Azriel's spies have been watching him. And I'll make sure to save the date-- I can't wait to see the look on Tamlin's face when I crash his second attempt at a wedding. And I'll remember to give you a simpler dress if you decide you want a ceremony.

I grinned at the words, and wrote back, I'd like that.

Which part? Tamlin's expression upon seeing me, or the dress? He teased, and I shook my head, writing back quickly and watching the page disappear.