The Court of Nightmares

Chapter 1

I couldn't stand Remaund. Being betrothed to a faerie who hates you, is like being tied to a potato sack. You're forced to carry it around for the rest of your life.

Unless you cut the rope.

My father is close friends of the Steward. Remaund is Keir's son. I had been hand picked from birth for him.

Not that I cared, he's still a prick. All of Keir's family is despicable. About 500 years ago they wanted an alliance with the  Autumn Court, Once the steward's daughter bled she was shipped off to Eris. Morrigan took her fate into her own hands. Some how she got out of the marriage and became the High Lord's Third.

In my large carved bedroom, fae light flickers to life. The blueish light paints the room in color.

"Isabelle?" Matrea whispers
Groaning I say " It can't be time already."
"I'm afraid it is." She says, " I know you hate mornings but the High Lord is coming today."
"Fine," I say still complaining, "I'll get up when you leave. I don't need servants helping me do tasks that I already know how to do."
"As you wish." She replies bowing her head. Then she vanishes through the rock carved doorway.

While getting into my gown is a pain I still don't call on a servant, though one is standing outside of my door.

My dress is deep black. Two shafts stretch over my shoulders and connect in the front. My midsection is covered before the fabric spills over my hips and into a sparkling pool in the floor. A slit that goes to mid thigh it all that shows. I strap a small dagger to the outside of my thigh. The small bedazzled hilt is hidden in my skirts.

I'm covered mostly by the black fur shawl that I draped over my shoulders. Tradition was that showing off your body before marriage is a disgrace. Females are taught to cover themselves. Tought to be disgraced by their bodies.

Except Morrigan. She taught me without speaking that you should be proud of your curves. To own your body and mind.

I didn't have much time for my hair, so I braided my hair and threw it over my shoulder.

I dream of being brave enough to stand up against my father like she did. I wish to be more than just a child-rearing female.

Hurrying out of my bedroom, I shove my way down the stairs to the street floor. My parents would kill me if they found out I was late.

Heads bob up and down as everyone flocks to the throne room. We're so lucky to have a ruler like our High Lord. Most think that he's a prick but something about him just tells me the opposite. I can see it in his eyes. The way he looks at his mate. So does the rest of the Inner-Circle.

The throne room is packed with so many fae. I shove to the front of the crowd, using my elbows as weapons. I'm not short but compared to the males, I can't see past their shoulders. So, passing through the crowd is difficult.

"It sure has been a while" drawled a dark slicked voice. "Bow" says the same voice. The crowd drops to the floor almost instantly. Except for me. Seeing everyone else on their knees I drop as fast as possible.

But not fast enough.

"You," purred a feminine voice from the throne, "Come here."

I stood and walked forward, head lowered. The crowd shuffles quickly out of the way.

"She's betrothed to Remaund... Mor won't hear of it." Said a silky voice.
"What did you say my Lord?" I ask.

"My Lady asked you to come here." He said sternly. His face wrinkling in distaste.

"I wonder what that was about" a feminine voice says

I choose to ignore the voices. The only thing that they would get me was more trouble.

The High Lord and Lady sat on their matching thrones. Rhysand in his black jacket and pants and Feyre in a matching dress.

"I apologise my Lord and Lady." I stammer, "It won't happen again." I bow my head in submission.

"I didn't ask you to apologise." The High Lord says.
"Have Azriel check and see if she's ok" The kind female's voice told the other.
"Azriel. Escort this young lady back to her chambers. She is not to come back." Rhysand says.
Out of the shadows the High Lord's Spymaster appears suddenly, making me flinch.
"Come" Azriel's voice like cold claws scraping on stone.

Thanks for reading! I do not own SARAH J. MAAS's characters or places. Please read on. I am trying to update daily but school may not allow it.