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When Illia was done showing Azriel the polar bears, she showed him her favorite parts of her court. The small diner at the edge of town that smelled like dirty armor but made the best Mac & Cheese Illia had in her life. She showed him the library, where Illia spent most of her time. The rose garden made entirely of ice, her father spent a year creating for Viviane. It was the same place he asked her to marry him. In a way, she was showing him her favorite parts of herself. Azriel listened to her explain why each place meant something to her. He watched the way the snow stuck to her eyelashes. He memorized every detail of her face, as if he'd never see it again. He watched her cheeks and nose turn into pale pink from the bitter cold. Azriel realized no matter what he did, he'd never be worthy of her.
When the night met her land, she turned to the winged male and kissed his cheek. Azriel was at home in the darkness and she was at home in the ice, for a split second Azriel thought that it would work. That he could be with her and be with his family. Then one of her people bowed his head in her direction and his dreams shattered. She smiled one last time and walked toward her palace.
Illia met her father at the foot of his throne. She would usually kiss his cheek before getting Cree for bed, sadly, that tradition ended that night. He was mad. Possibly the most mad she had ever seen him. Ice danced at his fingertips, as if he was doing everything in his power to keep from killing her where she stood. "You let a member of the Night Court into my court. Are you stupid Illia? he could've killed you or worse, everybody else. You are to be High Lady, you don't get to frolic about because you want to have fun. Everything you do has a cost, every decision you make, somebody will die. Do you understand Illia, if not you have failed us all." Kallias screamed so loud the icicles fell from the ceiling of the throne room. Illia swore she saw her mother flinch. Illia shook head, he didn't understand.
"Father you don't understand, I love him" She yelled in return. Illia realized her mistake the moment the words left her mouth. She sounded like a youngling involve with her school boyfriend, not the future High Lady of the Winter Court.
"Monsters don't deserve love, especially if they take orders from Rhysand." Illia flinched. He knew who he was. Her father knew who Azriel was. "You don't get to decide who you love Illia, the cauldron does. You don't get to decide you're future, you were born into it. And you don't get to decide who is and isn't allowed in this court, I do. But you do get to decide what kind of ruler you will be and I pray to the cauldron that you will be the best Prythian has ever seen. Never again Illia, that male is never allowed to step foot in this court again, not as long ad I live. If he does, I will cut of f his head and place it on a spike for his High Lord to find. Just like Rhysand did with the younglings." Kallias voice had softened by the end of his speech but Illia couldn't hold back the tears that threaten to flow. She bit her lip so hard she drew blood. Her father was right. The man Azriel took orders from, was not kind. He allowed Amarantha to kill two dozen of her courts younglings. She shook her head, trying to shake away the image.
"You don't even know him" It was the weakest Illia had ever sounded.
"Neither do you. One day does not make a relationship Illia."
"he's my mate" Illia's gaze left the floor and towards her fathers eyes. The same as her own. He didn't show any emotion, no reaction, not even a flinch. His only response was a shake of his head.
"doesn't matter" Illia felt her knees hit the ground first, her hands a second later. She sat at the foot of her fathers throne in tears. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. She saw the outline of her father standing from his throne and walking away from his only child. Illia was raw passion, the sun that reflected off the snow. Her father was Ice, so bitter it gave winter a bad name. But he loved that little ray of sunlight more than he loved his court and it shook his icy heart to the core.
Vivaine watched her mate leave the room before rushing towards the heaping mess of her child on the floor. She snaked her arms around the female, pulling her on her lap. Just like she did when Illia would cry over stepping on a snowflake as a youngling. Kallias trying to be a High Lord when the situation required a father grind Vivaine's gears into dust and he was going to get an earful for it. Illia was making noises her mother wasn't sure she hd ever heard before. The cauldron chose Azriel and her father wouldn't let her have the opportunity to choose him too. Illia began screaming, the worst part was, she knew he was right. There was no possible way for her to be High Lady and love someone who serves a different court. Her home was to be that throne not his arms. That thought alone broke her heart more than Azriel ever could.
When Illia awoke the next morning on her bed, still in her clothes. She figured her mother had carried her to sleep. She blinked a couple times before feeling a weird sensation on her hand. Lifting her head to look at her hand, she found an overgrown cloud without ear licking her. "How did you get in here?" Illia knew the bear couldn't answer, hell even if he could he wouldn't be able to hear her. She stood from the bad, flicking her fingers on the way up. She shrugged off her petticoat and slowly made her way to the bathroom. Somewhere along the way she took of the rest of her clothes and shoes. Oddly enough, she was only wearing one. Her feet met the warm water once again, this time she was without a book. Left only to her thoughts, Illia promised herself that she would at least try with Azriel. She wondered what Mor would say, had her father forgotten that her mother was friends with Rhysand's own cousin? Had she made a mistake that day she saved his mate? Could she forgive herself if she did?
