ACOTAR - In The Modern World

Alone in a stranger's house

Feyre couldn't believe it. 

When she had been told that she was to live with a member of the college whilst she attended, she thought maybe she'd end up in a nest of bloodsucking city people. 

Not being stuck in a large house with only Tamlin and Lucien. 

It was a grand house, with a towering front door and porch bigger than Feyre's old living room. Silence rounded every corner, the place devoid of laughter and life.

Strange though it was, it could have been worse. 

"Welcome to your new home." Lucien welcomed her further into the house. "We'll eat in the dining room," He gestured to the left, "in a few hours. In the meantime, your bedroom is upstairs and to the left. Alis will attend to you." And with that, he was gone. 

As she slowly, cautiously made her way up the grand winding staircase occupying the foyer proper, she ran a hand over the shiny surfaces. 

Never had such wealth met Feyre's eyes. At home, everything was worn, beaten down, basic and wooden. But here - there were things for the sake of having things. Breath caught in her chest as rows upon rows of paintings met Feyre's eyes upon ascending the staircase. 

Fruit painted in colours brighter than anything she'd ever seen; Skys filled with clouds whiter and fluffier than she could ever imagine; Animals she could never name. 

Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be so bad, she thought to herself. 

Walking into her bedroom for the first time would always be a memory to take her breath away. Silk and felt and cotton draped over everything, lavish decoration and hardwood surfaces everywhere - and the bed. 

Oh, the bed! A whole double bed, all to herself, no sisters to get in the way, no fighting over the blankets. 

"Hello, there." A voice interrupted her thoughts, startling her. "You must be Feyre. My name's Alis - with an s, I know it's weird - I'll be looking after you during your stay here." 

Feyre glared at her, mistrust in her eyes as she sat down in the cushioned seat the lady pulled out for her. 

"Now, don't you worry about anything, love. It'll all be alright in the end." A tug of the sharp bristled hairbrush prevented Feyre from retorting that it would not be alright, her family would starve without her, never knowing what happened to her, only that she'd been taken far away from them. 'Art Scholarship', they told her. Who knows what they told the rest of her family. 

She had never applied for an art scholarship, but at the time it had been a miraculous path leading them out of poverty. 

However, it had only let Feyre out of poverty. Without the chance to even say goodbye. 

Maybe they'd forget her, given time. Maybe she will turn to dust in a forgotten city with no legacy in anyone's mind.  

The old lady was still nattering. There was an air about her, something almost trustworthy about her. Brown wrinkled skin, worn by the sun, and black hair pulled into a tight top knot, the lady reminded Feyre of what a grandparent should act like. 

She had never met hers. Not even her Mother's, who didn't even bother coming down for their daughter's funeral. 

"Now, first thing's first, don't you bother about Tamlin. He's a funny one, that boy." Before Feyre could inquire further, Alis pushed on. "Now, look at yourself. Much better, don't you think?" 

Her eyes met her own in the mirror before her. Sunken eyes, pale skin, sharp cheekbones - but clean. Her hair braided ornately around her face made her look almost pretty. Something in her chest started. 

Her sisters will never know the feeling of being perfectly clean, with hair plaited beautifully. 

No. This would be hard. 

She couldn't leave them alone.

Never had she felt so alone. She was alone in a strangers house, and no-one knew she was there.