𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

song of the chapter: a quiet night at home

"pain adores me. god ignores me"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

My heart was beating out of my chest as I got ready for the meeting. I tried to calm myself. I knew every male that would be there. Most of them were good males, even friends of mine. I would be fine.

I dressed in a dark blue gown. Azriel and Cassian were in their Illyrian armor, all seven Siphons polished and gleaming. Mor had forgone her usual red gown for one of midnight blue much like mine, though a lot more revealing.

     Evelina was in a revealing gown as well, but Azriel's shadows were covering the exposed parts of her body protectively.

Feyre looked gorgeous in her beautiful gown as she stood atop the stairs. Rhys hadn't yet come downstairs, and there was no sign of Amren or Nesta to see us off.

"What?" Feyre asked Cassian as he gawked at her.

"You just look so--"

"Here we go," Mor muttered from where she picked at her red-tinted nails against the stair banister. Rings glinted at every knuckle, on every finger; stacks of bracelets tinkled against each other on either wrist.

"Official," Cassian said with an incredulous look in her direction. He waved a Siphon-topped hand to Feyre. "Fancy."

"Over five hundred years old," Mor said, shaking her head sadly, "a skilled warrior and general, famous throughout territories, and complimenting ladies is still something he finds next to impossible. Remind me why we bring you on diplomatic meetings?"

Azriel chuckled quietly, a hand on his mate's back. I smiled a bit. Cassian shot him a glare.

"I don't see you spouting poetry, brother."

"I dont need to resort to it," Azriel joked.

Eve snickered from beside him, Mor let out a crow of laughter, and Feyre snorted, earning a jab in the ribs from Cassian. Feyre batted his hand away.

Rhys stepped off the stairs and took Feyre's hand.

"I thought you were leaving," Nesta's voice cut in from atop the stairs.

Nesta was in a gown of darkest blue, no jewelry to be seen, her hair swept up and unadorned as well. I supposed that with her stunning beauty, she needed no ornamentation. It would have been like putting jewelry on a lion. She was breathtakingly beautiful. I realized I wasn't breathing.

"You look beautiful," Nesta said to Feyre.

"That, Cassian, was what you were attempting to say," Mor joked.

"Thank you. You do as well," Feyre said to Nesta. Nesta only shrugged.

"Why are you dressed so nicely? Shouldnt you be practicing with Amren?" Feyre asked her.

"I'm going with you. I do not want to be remembered as a coward." My heart wrenched for her.

"No one would say that," Feyre offered quietly.

"I would." Nesta surveyed them, her gaze jumping past me. "It was some distant thing War. Battle. Its not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means telling them what happened."

"You've given enough," Feyre said, her dress rustling as she braved a solitary step toward her. "Amren claimed you were close to mastering whatever skill you need. You should stay—focus on that."