[DISCONTINUED] TOG and AOCTAR Crossover

04

The ballroom was packed with high fae from all parts of Prythian. They swept across the floor in elegant dresses and suits, flowing to the rhythm of the string band playing on the small stage.

The head table was placed at the front of the room, underneath a magnificent, stained glass window. The image depicted a forest of flowers with a wolf stood alert in the middle. Tamlin, and who Feyre assumed were his new advisors, were sat at the end, overlooking all of the other courts.

She also couldn't help but notice the three guards stationed behind his chair. Who was he afraid of?

"It appears you have not provided seats for the others," Rhys said, gesturing towards Cassian, Azriel, Mor and Amren.

"Ah yes," the Spring Lord replied, "the guests are sitting at another table."

Tamlin snarled when Feyre scoffed, but he had the right to look slightly terrified when Amren bared her teeth. Everyone was scared of her.

"My family sits where I sit," Feyre spoke up. On queue, Rhysand snapped his fingers and the table grew a considerable length. Four more chairs, two fit for Illyrian wings, appeared next to their own.

Tamlin looked like he was about to explode, but as Amren let that wicked smirk show again, he turned back around and picked up his chatter with Beron.

As the band went on a little break for dinner, Helion and Lucien took the chance to engage in some friendly chatter.

"Rhys, my male," Helion shouted, grasping his hand and patting his back. "Feyre, how are you?"

"Well, I'm here so..."
the High Lord of day let out his classic bellowing laugh as he moved his seat closer to hear over the noise.

"By the way, congratulations," he whispered.

Fear flooded Feyre's body and mind alike. Her mental walls immediately shot up as she scooted closer to Rhys, who in turn, wrapped his arm around her waist and placed a hand on her thigh. Could he smell it on her? Was she showing?

"Don't worry, Tam's too daft to notice," Helion said. At least only the leader of the day court noticed - she could trust him. A waitress made her way over to the table not long after. She waved her hands and suddenly food was summoned from thin air.

"What type of magic does she have to be able to do that?" Feyre asked her mate.

"Not sure. Like a summoning spirit of some kind, but she's quite powerful."

As she made her way down the table, Mor became increasingly anxious. Feyre thought that it might be because she didn't know what to order, but when the waitress was only a few feet away, the third in command shot up faster than winnowing.

"Feyre," she breathed quickly, "can I have a word?"

The High Lady nodded and together they walked out of the grand hall, into the corridors beyond.

"What's wrong?" she asked her friend.

"That woman..." Mor trailed off, "she's my mate."

-+-

Feyre quickly found Mor a few bottles of wine and sent her back upstairs for some peace. Upon returning to her seat, Rhys gave her a funny look.

Don't worry, nothing is wrong. She's just going through some stuff.

Are you sure-

Yes, I'm sure, she cut him off, it's not my place to tell you. It's hers.

People were conversing all around them. Tamlin was in deep chatter with a male to his right and Cassian, Lucien and Helion were talking about their recent adventures.

"Members of the Spring Court, High Lords and guests," Tamlin addressed the room at large, "welcome to my home and annual Calanmai ball."

Scattered applause thundered around.

"Tonight is a special night. Not only is it our sixth annual ball since reconstruction, but it serves another purpose. Tomorrow at the great rite, I will pick a wife to stand beside me and someday bare my children."

More clapping. Some whoops and shouts even sounded from the ladies in the audience.

"But for now," he continued "let's dance."

The band started playing once more and people rushed out into the centre. Tamlin himself stood up with his advisors and went to greet the eager young girls.

"Feyre darling, may I have this dance?" Rhys asked.

"Of course, love," she entwined their fingers and rose from the chair. Her other hand floated to her stomach without even noticing. The pair slowly moved to and fro, swaying to the beat of the music. And as it came to an end, a familiar red-haired male walked over.

"Can I cut in?" he asked Rhys. The new song began playing in the background. Her mate tensed. Normally, he wouldn't be so overprotective by a simple thing like this but because she was pregnant, he was more on edge.

Feyre knew it wasn't his fault. She gave him a little nod and he strode to the edge of the room. Lucien took his place and rested his hands on her waist respectfully. He didn't fully touch her, actually. Instead, they kind of hovered a few centimetres over her dress. Such a gentleman.

"What's going on?" the High Lady asked him.

"I have to warn you," he replied.

"Of what?"

"You can't go to the rite tomorrow - it's dangerous."

"What do you mean?"

"I was looking through Tamlin's files earlier," Feyre gave him a pointed glance, but he just shrugged. Still the curious fox, it seemed. "I found some documents that show that he's changed the law. The rite is now legally binding."

"What?" she breathed.

"The person he picks to be his wife cannot leave once the marriage is done. They will be permanently under Spring Court rule."

Feyre was... shocked, to say the least. This changed things. What if he was planning to do something to her?

"I'll talk to Rhys. Thank you, Lucien."
He bowed as the song ended, walking back into the crowd and leaving her alone.

Feyre turned to go find Mor but something else court her line of sight. Tamlin stared at her, nothing human is his eyes. His face was utterly cold and unkind.

He was definitely up to something.