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starfall-spirit · 10 days

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Burning in the Starlight

Summary: In the wake of Amarantha's downfall, Feyre finds herself struggling to acquaint herself with the ways of Autumn nobility. Once a third-born daughter, now Cursebreaker, attention and gossip around the court were to be expected. What she didn't expect was the young and rising High Lord's proposal-nor her father's arrangement without her consent.

Trapped between a marriage bed and a mating bond, Feyre finds herself tangled in a new game, thanks to Rhysand's affinity for bargains. A game that would create the sort of scandal a proper Autumn lady shouldn't find herself caught in.

Feyre can't quite bring herself to care.

BitS Masterlist Ao3

@polyacotarweek Day 3: Secrets

Chapter IV: Wife, Mate, Spy

Dinner was an even more casual affair than breakfast, if that was possible. Feyre had lost track of time in the library and Rhys had found her on a window seat, curled up in a blanket with her nose in a book. She was so distracted in fact, it had only been the soft prodding of her mental shield that alerted her he was near.

“Is it getting easier to maintain?”

“Yes,” she murmured, accepting a plate of cheese, meat, and fruit from him as well as a glass of wine. “I’m not so sure that will hold true if I have to be paranoid about you poking at it.”

He frowned, sitting down beside her. “As I said, visitors and powerful officials to Autumn will be a bigger threat to you. Soon enough it will be an unconscious habit and won’t take any energy to keep it solid and in place.” He shook his head, that frown morphing to amusement. “Did you gather every pillow in the house?”

She shot him a glare, burrowing a bit deeper into her nest and balancing her plate on her knees. “What business is it of yours? It’s not like I was poking around your room.”

“And just where were you poking around, Feyre darling?”

He leaned in just half an inch, his body hardly doing more than tilting towards her. And yet that was all it took for his scent to wash over her. For the second time that day she was paralyzed, but rather than having her control stolen, it was raw instinct bringing her to pause and recognize the thread between them. It was a thriving thing, emotions and fears and dreams tangled in and along it, pulsing between them.

He cocked his head, watching her straighten and sit back, letting her slowly widen the space between them.

“What is beneath this house?” Rhys raised a brow, rolling a grape between his finger and thumb. “Well, there must be something beyond this place. This part of your territory can’t just be this house and the mountains beyond it. So?”

“We are rather isolated if we’re discussing the cardinal directions. Beneath the house, however, lies my… occupation, one might say. The Hewn City is unpleasant to say the least. It mostly governs itself unless someone needs a firm reminder about who is High Lord.”

“Hewn City?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Amarantha was not as clever as she pretended to be. What you found Under the Mountain was a sanitized version of the Court of Nightmares. And yes, it’s every bit as horrid as its name.”

Feyre hummed, reaching for her wine. “What is it about you wicked and dark types, holding court underground?”

She thought she had masked her distaste well enough, especially with her teasing at what she was truly coming to recognize as a facade. He merely held her stare, his face almost pensive. “Not only are the people there horrid, but it is a reminder. Those years there—” Beneath the stone where he saw no stars. Those years in Amarantha’s bed. “—won’t be forgotten. The first time I returned to court, appearing as High Lord, it was far from easy.”

“Would I have to go there? If…” If she chose him. This place. How long would it grant her this tranquility before the facade faded to the same fascism and maneuverings she was forced to endure in Autumn?

There were many subjects going unspoken tonight. “I would not force you to attend those audiences. My mother rarely did, but then she was not my father’s equal.”

“They weren’t mates?”

“Mates, yes. Equals is another matter. This morning Morrigan mentioned the traditional title a wife or mate inherits. Lady of Night, Autumn, Winter, and so on. There has never been a High Lady, as I’m sure you know through your political studies in Winter.”

“I didn’t have much need for politics or history,” she admitted with a blush. “But I’ve gathered a thing or two since returning to Autumn. Is this your next attempt at a bribe?”

He chuckled. “I’m not foolish enough to believe you would be swayed by something as shallow as power, Feyre. In fact, I’d be disappointed if that was all it took for me to win your heart. This is my pathetic attempt at transparency. Considering where I spent the last fifty years, you could say I’m out of practice in that courtesy.”

Feyre offered him a smile, letting herself scoot an inch closer. “I think you’re doing well enough, all things considered.”

His lips twitched to mirror her own. “I want everything on the table to avoid any unnecessary surprises down the road.” His expression suddenly sobered, making Feyre wary. “Speaking of power, have you discovered any consequences of your resurrection?”

She shook her head. “the usual parlor tricks I had already mastered before going Under the Mountain. You and Eris really believe something was passed to me?”

”It’s been centuries, maybe longer, since the High Lords have seen someone worthy of reviving, and I’ve yet to find any sort of record of the results. Even then, I’d imagine the results are case-by-case. We just need to find your trigger before it does you harm.”

Because fae who tried to suppress power, be they in hiding or something else, had gone mad and burned up from the inside out, trying to lock their power away. “Write to me or—” He huffed, grinding his teeth. “—or inform Eris. He can at least train you in control of Autumn gifts you may possess. Stop smirking like that.”

“You males. Always so jealous when it comes to your mates.” Ignoring his soft snarl, the shiver it sent down her spine, Feyre refocused on the subject between them. “Training the other gifts? Autumn’s ties are tumultuous on a good day, and you have few friends outside of the Night court.”

“The principles will be similar enough through each branch of magic. Once you learn to control a high magnitude of power, the rest will come easily enough. And something tells me you’re a quick study, regardless. Don’t start worrying about that until you actually have to. Especially with the other problems we’re juggling.”

“Hybern, right? Or something else?” She grimaced “You’ll have to fill me in. Vivian could only get crumbs of information behind Kallias’ wards.”

He gave another heavy sigh. “War is coming, Feyre. And fast.”

~~~~~

Rhys’s failure to give a fuck must have worn off on Feyre in the week she was away, because despite her desire to be at least well-mannered enough to show her face in high society, the sheer horror on her mother’s face was worth the risk of wearing Night Court loungewear home.

Though her father scowled at the exposure of her midriff and the sheer sleeves she wore, he had other concerns. “You carry his scent.”

There laid the roots of her concern. The scent of a mating bond left in limbo. She’d spent all week fearing it would snap into place without her consent just because of their physical attraction to one another. “A result of the bargain,” she lied smoothly. “And likely the fact he kept me close during my stay. Monitored, I mean. The last thing he was going to do was let Eris’ bride go snooping.”

There was a semi-truth to that. While there had been little to no classified information to find in the Moonstone Palace, when he spoke to his general and cousin in her presence, there was a vagueness to his words. And a slight pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” he told her once. “But even with the bond, I can’t tell you everything yet. One day I hope I can.”

“The day I accept you and your court as my own?” She had no right to feel so bitter, but it still stung for some reason.

“The very moment you do. That’s a promise, and I never break my promises.”

Shaking off the memory, she gave her parents and sisters a tight smile. Elain seemed particularly worried, Nesta simply suspicious. “It was all… taxing. But I’m unharmed.”

”I imagine so,” her father replied, voice still laced with suspicion. “Go change into something proper. It’s nearly dinner and the High Lord expects you to join him.”

Insufferable bastard. All he wanted at the moment was to interrogate her, she was certain. And perhaps try to discourage her romantic pursuit of his enemy. Still, she was sitting across from Eris at a quarter to seven serving herself a portion of roast meat and various side dishes. “What exactly is the point of this dinner, Eris?”

“Do I not possess the right to wine and dine my fiancée?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He grinned. Dangerous, was the descriptor that came to mind. It seemed she had a type. Where that thought had come from she wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t deny he was attractive, at least. “You walk freely through my enemy’s household and you expect me to just ignore it?”

Feyre sighed. “You’re being quite predictable, actually. Mates or not, he doesn’t trust me yet. And even if he did, it’s none of your business what he and his court are up to.”

He cocked his head, one short nail clacking against his glass. “And if your mate asked you to spy on me?”

Feyre sighed. “He didn’t ask me to spy on you like that.”

His hand stilled. “Like that?” Just what does ’like that’ mean?”

She raised her own goblet to her lips. “What is your stance on the war against Hybern?”

He chuckled. “Tell me you have a bit more couth at court. That I’ll have the slightest hope at training you in political parley.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have no desire to beat around the bush this evening. That doesn’t make me incompetent. Now, Hybern.”

To his credit, Eris only hesitated a moment longer. “Hybern has had a very long time to plant the seeds of doubt in his people’s mind. Regardless of his own power, an army full of anger can be beyond dangerous. Worse than that, particularly unpredictable.”

“What is Autumn doing about it?”

That was where she saw the change in him. Where this was shutting down. “That’s none of your concern, Feyre. Unlike some, I know when to keep my cards close to my chest.”

“Sounds like a whole lot of nothing.”

Chuckling, Eris wiped his face, standing from his chair. She tensed, but remained seated as he approached, reaching for her chin. He was all too smug the next time their eyes met. “I might be convinced to share such information with my wife.” His thumb stroked down her jaw, the motion small, yet possessive. “Think on that, little wolf. I’ll call on you soon.”

~~~~~

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#burning in the starlight #BitS #acotar #feysand #feyris #feyrisand #feyre archeron #rhysand #eris vanserra #polyamory #poly+acotarweek2024

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