A Court of Pain and Sorrow

Archeron manor

When Rhaella got on her horse the morning after with her belongings packed in a couple bags, she didn't feel a thing.

The Ravens and Delilah were with her, riding by her side on their horses.

They all were silent and the only thing that could be heard was the wind and the horse's feet stepping on the snow.

The winter air hit her face and cracked her lips, her eyes were damp and teary.

Rhaella kept looking forward, holding the straps of her horse tightly and fighting the urge to usher it to run like hell.

The group stopped at an inn and had a quick meal before resuming with their travel.

Before they arrived to the village, Delilah Lorcan, Maxa and Lysander said their goodbyes and went away, to a manor that  belonged to Delilah and her Kate husband, Alan Sisko.

June, Kalta and Rhaella continued riding in silence.

"Wait a second." Rhaella said, jumping down of her horse.

It was the first time she spoke in the whole journey.

Rhaella tied the horse to a tree and so did June and Kalta.

The Raven Death lead them through a very familiar dirt path, now covered with ice and snow, that lead to a shack with a completely shattered door.

"What is this place, Rhaella?" June asked, looking around clearly confused.

"My home." Rhaella answered.

June's head snapped towards Rhaella bit the girl didn't ask any questions.
Neither did Kalta.

Both knew about the horrible situation Rhaella had back home, but they never imagined she would live in a place like that with four other people.

Rhaella walked inside alongside with June and Kalta.

She graced her fingertips above a couple of flowers painted in the wooden desk they used to eat in.

Flowers Feyre painted with her own hands.

Rhaella leant on the chimney and sighted, fighting the empty feeling in her chest, how her heart stopped beating at the thought of her sister.

She sighted and walked through the only door in the shack, the one that lead to their room.

The bed was still there, already covered with dust.
It seemed no one had lived there in years when, in reality, the family had just left the day before.

Feyre had died just the day before.

Rhaella erased those thoughts and walked towards the little wardrobe in the corner of the room.

It had four drawers, but only three of them were painted: one with flowers, other with flames and the last one, covered in the starts of the night sky.

Her drawer was empty. Nothing was there, only wood.

Feyre didn't have the chance to finish it.

Rhaella raised her eyes to look at the two frames that hanged crooked above it.

One of them was the picture Feyre painted three years ago, when the twins turned sixteen.
It was them, in that clear in the woods, just next to a lake.
Nesta and her were dancing together, Elain was sitting down singing while making flower crowns and Feyre was sitting down next to Elain, painting.

The other one made Rhaella cry.
Nesta hadn't mentioned it in her letters.
It was a portrait of her, of Rhaella.
She was smiling like a little girl, little wrinkles around her gray eyes, full of life and hope. There were no bags under her eyes and her face wasn't pale.