After the Winter Solstice, things had been looking up. My parents tried to approach me more, to understand my struggles and not brush them under the carpet- I was also allowed to roam out- almost freely. I visited nearby villages, spoke with my people, trained my powers.
Things were really looking up- the nightmares and the overbearing guilt lingered, but they were so very slowly, dimming in comparison to being back home, back with my family.
Pieces were of course still missing- Feyre and Lilith, for example, weren't as lucky at the Spring Court. Even though Feyre hadn't directly said it, I understood she was not the overjoyed, pretty wife she was posing as. And the marriage was almost there- I was worried about my friend.
Tamlin wasn't necessarily bad, but he had a temper, and other not so admirable qualities- my parents told me to stay away from Spring Court business, but I couldn't help the worry building up in my chest.
When my new servant quietly knocked on my door and left me my post before bed, I went through the letters like a hunter on a quest until I spotted Lilith's beautiful script on an envelope.
I scanned her words like a hungry dog thrown a bone:
Dear Amelia,
I am sorry I haven't written in a while but things have been looking down as the wedding nears. The feared date is tomorrow, in case you didn't know. I'm afraid my sister doesn't want to marry him, Amelia. Tamlin was a saviour for us, for her, and he treated with gentleness and love unlike anything she'd know- we'd known. So it was easy for her to love him when she needed saving. But she doesn't need that anymore. I'm certain she loves him, but I'm as certain she doesn't wish to marry him. They don't talk- they only have sex, and that only adds to their problems.
I know she'll go through with it out of selflessness. But I won't let her. All I've wanted since the very beginning is for her to be happy, and I've risked quite a lot to achieve that. If Tamlin won't make her happy, I care neither for his status nor his power: I'll defy him.
But afterwards, Feyre and I will need someone as powerful to shelter us. Does your father's invitation hold? I hate to ask you such a thing, and I wouldn't if I had any other choice, but I don't.
Love and apologies,
Lilith
For a second, I just sat on my bed, gaping at the letter on my lap. I had not realised- I had not realised Feyre was truly unhappy. But I knew that if Lilith said so, she knew so. And I also knew what lengths the Archeron sisters would go to for each other.
I yearned for someone to love me as much, to have such a sisterly bond again- but if the Winter Court took away the Spring Court's possession, it would mean war. And war meant bloodshed, and terror, and death- and it also meant Rhysand would be able to call in the bargain again. Take me away again.
No, I had to find some other way. I had to- My breath stuck in my throat. Unlikely bargains, offering both damn and salvation. The bargain Rhysand had made with Lilith. The bond between them.
I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and quickly began writing.
Dear Lilith,
I cannot aid you without starting a war. But one look at your arm will give you the answer you're looking for. Keep me updated.
Love, Amelia
I sent my letter, knowing it would reach the two girls in the middle of the night and hoping it wouldn't be too late.
I slept uneasily that night, dreams of dark castles and shadowy figures invading my sleep.
...
A loud knock on my door startled me from sleep- I took a moment to calm myself from being so abruptly awoken.
Safe. At home. I promised myself as I got out of bed and went to answer my door- even though the young girl that served me as a maid always knocked delicately and once, I still wasn't expecting anyone else-
"Dad." I said, inhaling through my nose. My father was standing at my door, his body stiff, and his eyes holding a quiet and yet strong fury. And some fear. The whole scene reminded me of- No, there was no reason to drag that to the surface. "Good morning." I said, forcing myself to smile.
"I'm afraid it's not going to be one, Amelia." My father replied, his voice even, too calm, too scary. My smile fell. "What's going on?" I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek. "They're here. Again." One sentence was enough to fill my mind with huge red signs of danger. With bubbling fear.
"Who is?" I whispered, gripping my door, suddenly needing the support. "The Night Court. They say they're in to call a bargain. And- would you believe that? Negotiate." My head was suddenly dizzy, everything spinning- what did he mean by the Night Court? Most importantly, who did he mean?
And what the hell did they want?
"Give me a second to get dressed." I muttered, as calmly as I could muster. "If you don't want to-" I sadly shook my head at my father. Despite being one of the most powerful Faeries, a High Lord, if they were calling in the bargain, he had no power against them.
But how? There was no ongoing war, was there?
I pushed my questions to the back of my head, as I shut the door of my room. My curls were untamed, flying in all directions, and so I pulled it back in a ponytail, leaving some strands to frame my face. I exchanged my simple pyjamas for wide-leg black pants and a silky shirt that left my back exposed- I tapped in both my feminine and warrior sides.
To show that I wasn't playing around, that I wasn't the little princess they played with like a ragged doll anymore, I added an original Winter Court dagger in my belt. When I opened my room's door, I found my father still waiting for me. He gave me an appraising look and a small nod of approval, before looping our arms together and descending the staircase by our side.
The scene in front of me was awfully familiar- and yet so different at the same time.
A dozen guards were standing in the middle of our dining room, creating a circle. And amidst that circle stood my mother, a cold expression on her face, her chin held high. Opposite from her, back to back, stood Mor, Cassian and- and Azriel.
My throat was dry as sand-paper.
"Really classy of you Mor. Come and ruin us as we're beginning to manage to heal." My mother mocked, a little smirk on her lips. The soldiers parted for my father and I to pass through and all eyes turned on us. I looked at my mother first, giving her a soft, reassuring nod. I then looked at Mor, trying to keep my face passive, superior. My eyes skipped to Cassian, whom winked at me as he had done so many years ago.
Azriel- I thought he wouldn't meet my eyes but he did, and I think that was worse. His gaze was calm and fixated. His eyes were gleaming. It was as I had dreamt it- only that he didn't beckon me to him, simply kept his gaze glued on me.
"Come on now, Vivi, I told you, we're not here to take your child away. We're merely here to make a proposition." My father raised his chin. "I should kick you all out, if not declare war." Cassian yawned, as if bored. "First of all, say you declared war: with the idiot's bargain you made at the first War, we could have your daughter fighting against you which would be the ultimate weapon-" A subtle jab in the ribs from Azriel at that "um, if we were cruel. Which we aren't." Despite myself, I raised an eyebrow. "Doubtful."
Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. "At least hear us out?" I pretended to ponder for a second, even though I knew I had no other choice and then took a seat at the table, motioning for everybody else to do the same. "We would like some privacy." I told the guards, giving them a subtle look to leave us.
I was surprised when they didn't glance at my father for confirmation of the order, and simply left the room with bows of their heads. My dad also looked impressed for a moment, before letting the indifferent mask slide on again, and taking a seat by my side. My mother sat by my other side, while Azriel, Cassian and Mor seated themselves at the other end of the table.
"So, we will grant you a hearing. But have in mind that that's already a courtesy on our part- I do not understand of which bargain you speak, since there is no war." Azriel calmly smiled, his eyes still remaining on me, making my entire body burn. "Are you so sure of that?" My father laughed in response- but it came out more hesitant than self-assured.
"Of course we know that." "Then, you're wrong." Azriel simply said. "The King of Hybern is preparing an army- and he'll destroy us all." My father once again laughed- but it sounded less and less sure. "And why would he do that?" "Because he's thirsty for power. Amarantha was nothing faced to what's coming." Mor replied, staring at my parents in the eye.
For some reason, I believed them. But even if I didn't, I wouldn't bluff it- not when the stakes were my dad's life. "And what is it that you seek? You said you wanted a bargain." I said, trying not to let Azriel's burning stare get to me. "We don't want to rip you away from your home again. We did that only because there was an urgency unlike any other. This once, we've seen it coming and we have time to prepare. We would like you to come to the Night Court for a week per month- we are not to share the exact details, but you will not be harmed in any way and will be free to go whenever you please. After the first week. A sort of trial you will have to endure."
My mind was tugging at hundred of different directions- and damn Azriel, and his lean arms, and his gorgeous eyes that were so distracting- My father cleared his throat. "Amelia, darling, you don't have to. They could be bluffing." "Where is Rhysand?" I asked, ignoring my father's statement. "Oh, he had other things to take care of." Cassian said with a knowing smirk.
My heart was banging against my ribs- there had to be some catch, something off about this thing: but even if there was, I couldn't find it, and time wasn't in my favour. "When's the first week?" Cassian's smirk widened. "Right now." "This once, you'll give me time to bloody pack." I grumbled, getting up from the table.
Mor winked at me. "Good call, love." Then, with a more serious facade, she turned to my mother. "Even after everything, please trust me with this Vivi." I saw my mother harshly shallow. "Especially after everything, you cannot ask for such a thing Mor. But I am partly grateful for this- for giving her a choice at the very least."
A look of understanding seemed to pass between the two women. "Do you want me to send servants to help you with your things?" My dad softly asked, and I nodded 'no'.
"Give me a few minutes." I said in general direction, before heading upstairs, still more flustered than I would've liked.