It's been 100 years since the war against Hybern. A competition is announced, the best fighters from across Pythian gather to take part, the prize being riches and fame beyond imagination. It is deadly and gruesome with fights to the death.
Meet Lyr...
"Can't say I am. This is my wife, the High Lady of the Night Court, Feyre. This is my second Amren, my third Mor, the general of my armies Cassian, and my spymaster Azriel." Lyria felt more lightheaded by the second.
"And you've already met my son and heir, Casteel." Rhys finished and Lyria blinked.
"And you are?" Mor prompted
"Lyria Evalin Whitethorn Galathynis, Crown princess of Terrasen." Lyria said, as confidently as she could standing in a shirt and no pants.
"Where?" Mor frowned.
"Terrasen."
"Never heard of it."
"Didn't think you would of. Here's the thing, I'm from a different world." Lyria braced for them to laugh but surprisingly none of them did.
"I-I heard about your power," She mentally whacked herself for stuttering, she needed to sound powerful, she turned to Rhys, "But couldn't get your attention so I signed up for the competition, thinking that if I won it, I would get your attention and you could help me get home?" She said the last bit as a question and was met with silence. The Court looked at each other. Were they using some kind of secret language? Cassian waggled his eyebrows at Casteel who rolled his eyes. What did that mean? Did a left eyebrow raise mean no, right yes and both maybe? Shaking head was pretty obviously no. But then Feyre shrugged! What did it meeeeannnnnnn? Lyria looked around them warily and frowned when Mor winked at her. This was weird and way too complicated.
"We'll try our best to get you home, Lyria." Rhys said finally and she sighed with relief.
"Thank you."
"Now can we have dinner?" Cassian whined and Rhys rolled his eyes.
"Join us, Lyria." He gestured and another seat appeared at the table. Lyria looked down at her clothes.
"I'm not really in, uh, evening wear." Mor laughed and waved her hand. Suddenly, Lyria found herself clad in a beautiful midnight blue gown that did wonders for her cleavage.
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(Obviously picture is her dress, also that is what Lyria looks like just with silvery hair and Ashryver eyes!)
"What the-"
"I wanted to give you some of my clothes before, but Casteel wouldn't let you wear anyone else's clothes." Mor said quickly and Casteel shot her a glare, before going back to gazing at Lyria who didn't really pay attention. She lifted the side of her dress to display silver heels that clasped her feet perfectly. Holy shit.
"How did you do that?" She demanded and Mor grinned.
"Magic."
"Please sit down." Still bewildered about everything that had just happened, Lyria sat down in her chair numbly. The fabric of the dress slid against her skin silkily, almost like water.
She was getting home.
That was easy-ish.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This chapter is really short and really shit, sorry! I know it's really uninteresting and it is more of a filler chapter, because I've been really busy. I just wanted to get a chapter out this weekend.
