CARDIGAN, acotar ¹

chapter fifty seven

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

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SNOWDROPS AND BLUEBELLS  swayed from side to side as the breeze rushed against the glen's clearing. from above, the thick sunshine shone on them, making their petals shimmer and glow like the tufts of dandelion fluff drifting by.

"i hate nature," sam declared as he plucked a single blade of grass off his white tunic, near-hidden underneath the armor layered atop it.

it was the following morning and like she'd said, she was leaving, but she'd wanted to go to the glen with feyre as she had discussed at dinner yesterday. tamlin hadn't said anything to her when they left, though he had waited to make sure carson stuck to her word and had sam follow them.

"you live in the spring court," carson retorted.

sam shrugged. "for now."

she gave him a flat, curious look, suddenly wanting to ask more. but samuel just shrugged once more and tugged at the reins of his horse, putting distance between them as they neared the glen she hadn't visited for months now. feyre was trailing behind, looking like she was drinking in the beauty of fresh air.

carson slid off the mare, leaving her atop the grassy knoll that overlooked a glade of oaks. feyre followed pursuit, drenched in sunlight.

"scream bloody murder if you need me," sam drawled, aiming onwards to the temple she remembered cecelia had disappeared to weekly. "or don't," he added charmingly, "i hate being disturbed."

"rot in hell, sam," carson grumbled.

sam just twiddled his fingers in a mockful farewell.

with that, carson turned to feyre, watching as she neared the river of starlight. it reflected against her eyes, colliding cerulean and starry gleam. neither of them said anything as feyre lifted her dress slightly to soak her feet in the river, basking in the freedom and privacy the glen offered.

carson stroked her mare's neck one last time before she trailed towards feyre, perching herself on a small rock in the middle of the stream.

feyre didn't look up from the water soaking the hem of her pale green dress. "lucien told me you're drinking again."

"lucien has a big mouth," carson replied, but knew it was out of worry that lucien had told feyre. "i have it under control, feyre."

feyre didn't look at all convinced, but she didn't push the topic, knowing carson's unlikeness towards being insisted for an answer. instead, she sat down on the river bed, letting her lower half drench in the lukewarm water.

trying to talk to feyre was next to impossible these days. it was always about their sisters, the manor, painting — anything except what had happened to the both of them a mere two months ago. it was like neither of them could figure out how to talk to each other. what to say, what not to say.

which is why carson couldn't quite find the words she wanted to say, so she let herself bask in the silence.

until feyre spoke up, while she let her fingertips graze the surface of the water, twinkling with starlight, "do you remember that one winter when we were kids ... the lake had frozen over, and elain had insisted we skate on it?"