Light and Shadow✔️

No.

My father stayed behind to celebrate and get his apology from Rhysand. But they didn't want to risk anything, so they send me back to the old stone castle in the middle of the Illyrian mountains immediately. Or so I thought. I had forgotten how backward their thinking was. Tinus came with me, but I saw in his eyes that he had wanted to stay. How much he had changed from the boy that had defied all rules so he could teach me flying. 

But he had to be in there. If he wasn't, none of this was going to work.

My mother welcomed me home, she was crying, terrified that those 'uncivilized, brutish Bastards' (which she, of course, meant literally) had done to me. The answer 'nothing' didn't really seem to satisfy her.

First thing after dinner, Tinus and a few of my father's advisors interrogated me demanding to know every little detail I had learned in Velaris, which of course wasn't much. Then they made me weave something for them. I couldn't believe they had actually bought the crappy performance. I had woven an Azalea, just one, making it seem like an incredibly hard job. Again, I couldn't believe they had really believed me. Then again, I was just a meager, weak female, that couldn't do anything by herself. 

Still, I couldn't get to bed faster that evening, because finally no one was belittling, or peppering me with questions. 

My room seemed so small now. The cold stone floor which I had never been allowed to cover up with a rug, the walls empty without the dozens of books in my room in Velaris. I missed them already. There was no writing desk in here, nothing I could untangle my thoughts on, only lots of wardrobes filled with cute dresses and lots of mirrors. 

The next days weren't better. Apparently being a light weaver had increased my value by a lot, there was no Illyrian who didn't want his son to marry me. Still, of course, only the heirs of important Lord's or noblemen were considered. It was so ridiculous, at the parties for the potential suitors, where I was treated like some kind of precious clothes rag with no mind of its own, I had to hold my tongue so I wouldn't suggest being rented out to the highest bidder. At least that way, everyone would get a piece of the famous Light-Weaver-Princess. Instead, I always excused myself at the earliest convenience. 

At night, when I felt especially alone, I started to talk to the shadows again. Of course, I had put safety measures in place so no one would listen in on my very emotional tirades. I didn't know if he was listening, Azriel had much more important things to do and I was afraid to use the bond like in the courtroom. Afraid they would smell it on me, afraid that I would distract him from something important. Only there were moments when I couldn't stop myself, moments when I was so fed up with all of them that I had to talk to someone or else I would go insane.

I wished they could be there with me, but I had to wait. 

When they had finally decided on my fiancé, they set a date for my clipping. My fiancé was one of Tinu's best mates, a hulking brute that I was sure would treat me badly at best. But my father and Brother were sure they had made the best deal for me. And as long as they were happy, right?

"Yes. This is it" my mother commented, sitting in a chair by the window, taking me in.

The dress was 'perfect'. Modest, white, long-sleeved, almost daring in the neck department (it didn't have a turtleneck, so my mother found herself very modern indeed). The dress was made of silk, tight on the upper body, from the waist flowing down to the floor. My hair was braided into a little crown, little flowers all throughout it. I was the spitting image of an innocent maiden waiting to be saved by a knight in shining amour. 

I rolled my eyes, my reflection in the life-size mirror doing the same. It wasn't that the dress didn't look pretty on me, because it really did, I was just baffled that the irony was lost on my mother. Nothing about Illyrians was white and innocent, ever. We were born to rule the sky with our bat-like wings, stuffing an Illyrian female into a white dress just looked ridiculous. My wings towered over my back, creating a strong contrast. The violet-like black and the pure white looked like crashing worlds. It reminded me so much of me and Azriel. So fundamentally different but still one and the same.