Theia hadn't left her bedroom for the rest of the day. Nyx had left to speak with Feyre about the upcoming gathering of the entire family, learning that they wouldn't be there until the evening. Theia refused to run into Rhysand at any moment, so she stayed to her bedroom, besides slipping down the hall to the bathing chamber.
The sun was falling behind the mountain ridge, and Nyx had slipped from the bedroom to check on the arrival of his family. Theia had decided to take that time to bathe and ready herself. It was the night her fate would be decided; if she would be thrown to the wolves or persuade this family to decide if their loved one was only a facade.
She stood in the mirror, dressed in thick pants and a sweater in preparation for Rhysand demanding she leave the estate tonight. Theia had slept in the snow for years, she could do it again. She ran a brush through her hair, studying herself. If tonight she became who she had once been, it wouldn't feel the same.
Theia decided then that she would not feel like the quiet female that strode through the outskirts of the village to avoid confrontation, or work mindlessly for someone who didn't care for her. If she found herself on the streets tonight, her head would be held high, her heart full, her mind strong. She would be a female that has experienced love, a sliver of family, and a lifetime of hurt.
Her eyes focused on her face, rather than watching the brush move through strands of her hair. Theia hardly recognized herself anymore. She had lost count of the time she'd spent in Velaris, but a new female stared back. It was rare that she gave herself more than a glance, but it was nearly terrifying to truly look at herself.
Her once hollowed cheeks were fuller, the skin less gaunt. She didn't hold the shadows of her past beneath her eyes, instead crinkled skin along their edges that showed when she smiled. Those eyes... There was more life within them than she had ever seen before. No longer mute brown, but endless colors that bled into a golden hue. A flush was on her cheeks from the heat of the bath she had taken, and speckles of darker skin were scattered across the bridge of her nose.
Theia's full, no longer chapped lips lifted into a small smile as she watched herself. She was no longer the timid child that drug herself across the ground to care for her careless mother. She was a female, strong willed and beautiful, fighting for a better future for herself and others.
Her eyes fell back to the brush, now stilled in the hair at her collarbone. The hand that curled around the handle was no longer skeletal and haggard. Her eyes then fell to her shirt. Theia slowly sat the brush on the counter and lifted the hem of her shirt. The stomach beneath was well fed, beautiful. No longer the picture of starvation and desperation, but soft and loved. Her eyes stung with tears.
Theia had never loved her appearance; she never had the time to. Now, as she turned to the side and peered at the way her stomach pressed against the waist of her pants, rolled as she slouched, she fell in love. It wasn't the terrifying beauty of loving Nyx, but a calm and wonderful sensation. No, she was no longer the child that was dragged into this city months ago. Theia was a female that had more purpose than ever before.
She had been so focused on her new realization, Theia didn't notice Nyx walking into the room. Not until a hand laid over hers on her stomach and his lips pressed to her hair.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured. Theia's eyes lifted to his in the reflection, tears brimming.
"I feel like it," she whispered back. Nyx grinned in a way that emanated pride. He kissed her head again before he spoke.
"They're waiting in the sitting room."
All joy she had felt moments before drained at those words. Theia sighed and turned to Nyx, frowning slightly as he pressed soft lips to the tip of her nose. He offered a gentle smile as he stepped back and turned, giving her room to walk past him. Theia brushed her hands over her pants and began her walk to the sitting room.
She and Nyx walked in silence. Her hand rose to grip his arm, a mindless gesture though it spoke clear enough. Nyx laid his hand over hers and ran a soothing thumb over her knuckles. She glanced up at him, noting the way he seemed to lift his chin and settle into a facade; a facade of a male that had no fears, though his biggest seemed to loom over them. Theia turned forward and did the same, though she didn't feel afraid.
Fear didn't linger within her chest, but nerves did. She was nervous to make Nyx's life more difficult. It would be hard to deal with a father that hated his lover, harder when that father throws her onto the street. She deserved it, though the High Lord deserved to see how wrong he was. As they neared the sitting room, Theia willed her pulse to slow and her face to steady into stoic calm.
Nyx entered the room first, slipping his arm from her hold. Her brows furrowed when she saw his steps falter the slightest bit, but her question was answered as she stepped into the room. It was not just the Inner Circle. Rhysand had gathered everyone. Her eyes immediately landed on the High Lord, who was stood in front of the hearth, his hands behind his back and a smug smile on his lips. Theia's eye twitched in irritation.
"Glad you could finally join us. As you wished, I brought everyone in to hear your claims. We can decide what's next later," Rhysand spoke, motioning one hand towards the group before replacing it behind his back. Theia clenched her jaw as she turned her eyes to the gathered people.
The first one to offer a smile was Feyre, and then Nesta. The two were sat beside each other on the couch, the General and Shadowsinger on either side of them. Mor had brought Emerie, one person Theia was grateful to see. Emerie was a female who knew the inner workings of the village, and could back Theia's claims.
Rhysand had also invited Elain, Feyre's other sister, and her mate. She'd only met them once, so Theia didn't expect much support from them. Her eyes passed a quiet Gwyn, who gave a nod as she settled beside Emerie. Theia didn't pay her any mind, because her eyes fell to a female she hadn't met yet.
The female was dressed in clothing far different than what she had seen in the Night Court. She was in linen pants, though the fabric was split from the knee down. The shirt was in the same fabric, though it was cut sleeveless and short. Her skin was sun kissed, unnatural in the dark winter months. Theia's eyes narrowed. There was something foreign, dangerous about this female.
She was curled into an armchair, a wine glass resting on her knee. She was of importance, other than her High Fae genetics, because her ears, hands, and neck were littered with gems and glittering metal. Her upturned eyes were of a misty silver, her cropped hair cut closed to her slim cheeks and jaw. Theia expected the feral grin that lifted onto the female's face to be of threat, but her eyes glimmered with mischief.
Clearing her throat, Theia turned back to Rhysand. She gave him a dip of her chin and walked forward. The High Lord stepped aside and allowed her to stand before the group. It was surreal. She felt as though she were about to call order for a rebellion. Her eyes scanned the group again, landing on Nyx. He was perched on the armrest of the couch beside Azriel, offering a small smile and the slightest of nods. Her breath shook as she parted her lips.
"I have been fighting with Rhysand for the safety and equality of females in this court. Not just the Illyrians in the villages, but the High Fae in the Hewn City. He continues to tell me that I am young, I do not understand the politics. He says that I do not understand that the ways of the past are not so easily swayed. I've seen what he has done for this court, but I have also seen what has not been done. I ask for your time to explain my reasonings, and your consideration."
Theia decided not to mention the fact that the High Lord planned to throw her to the streets if she did not win the majority. Their suspicious eyes said enough. The females seemed to lean forward, eager to hear Theia's words. The only ones who didn't were new female and Mor. They watched her with unamused eyes. Theia glanced to Nyx again before speaking.
"I see this city, and I see that it is safer than any other place in this court. My issue is not with that, but with the lack of care towards the rest of the court. When I was in the Hewn City, I watched High Fae females get fed wine glass after wine glass until they were unaware of the males dragging them up the stairs. I heard their cries over the music, I saw the tear stained cheeks and smudged lip pigments.
"I also bore witness to a crime done to my own body. I'm not sure if it was because I am lesser, or female, but all I had wanted was another drink. While I was grabbing that drink, the males in the throne room decided my body was theirs to explore. They grabbed parts of me that are intimate, they tore at my wings, and when I was ready to fight back, your General looked at me and shook his head."
Theia's voice grew harsh as she said those words. Her eyes fell to Cassian, whose brows furrowed as though he tried to remember. Nesta's head whipped to look at her mate, eyes narrowed into daggers.
"I don't think he-"
"I am not finished."
Mor tried to defend the male, and perhaps she was right in that, but Theia was tired of being interrupted. Mor's eyes went to Rhysand, lips parted in shock. Theia swallowed harshly and lifted her chin.
"My body, and every other female's, is owned by males. That's what they believe in this court, because why else is it so common for a female to be taken and used against her will? About my village, I have seen more assault on one street than I could fathom- I was assaulted in ways I could not fathom. The males in that camp think that females are so beneath them, they will slaughter them without punishment.
"My own sister was killed during a poor attempt at clipping her wings, and those males were found training the next day. Even when the camp lords were aware of what they had done. My sister's body was buried in a forgotten grave. She deserves to look upon that camp and see females training, surpassing males. I am tired of seeing the things that nobody else sees because the High Lord convinces them all that he is so great. A great leader would not let his citizens fall for the sake of image. I beg you to look at this court without the haziness of Rhysand's words, and push for change. There should not be one safe city within an entire court."
Her chest rose and fell unevenly as she stared each person down. Nesta, Feyre, Elain, Gwyn, and Emerie all looked at her with wide smiles. Cassian was leaned forward, his eyes on the floor as his hand covered his mouth. Azriel watched her with a tight jaw, though Theia saw the subtle dip of his chin. Theia turned her body to face the High Lord. He was already watching her.
"I will speak to my Inner Circle, and I will inform you of my decision," he spat out. Theia knew the look she gave him was one unimpressed and full of the rage of the females from the past. She inhaled deeply, gave him a curt nod, and left the room without another word.