ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇꜱ→ᴀᴄᴏᴛᴀʀ

ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵉⁱᵍʰᵗ

┏━━━━━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━━━━┓

deep talks, did I say deep talks?

┗━━━━━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━━━━┛

Mana huffed as beads of sweat trickled down her brow, she caught him. At the sight of the High Lord shell shocked with the cake in his hands, she relaxed and used her sleeve to wipe off the drops of precipitation.

Without a word Mana stared at him unflinchingly and walked up to the study table and took his seat.

Rhysand was once again out of words as he held her glaze, a common occurrence in the presence of the female. But the exhaustion in her eyes made him break contact, guilt consumed him.

He had been stressing out the too-be mother, and he did so intentionally. If his mother were here, she would've destroyed him regardless of the fact that the child being conceived was her mate's.

"I understand that you are confused, angry, frustrated and possibly in denial. I probably destroyed your perfect memory of your childhood and...your father. You might hate me, blame me for it all. And I don't mind, I'll be your target of hate, I'm willing to be the evil in your story for my child."

Her voice broke as she voiced out the words that had been dwindling in her mind since after the first trip to Velaris. It was only now that she looked away, embarrassed at the moisture in her eyes. She had cried enough the last few days, her confidence had melted away to despondence, her dark eyes a dripping black. After everything she had gone through, this seemed to be her breaking point.

"I'm sorry."

A brown so dark that it looked black, met a pair of violet shades darker than amethyst, a colour usually associated with power and royalty amongst mortals on the other side of the wall. The genuineness in his eyes surprised her.

"I didn't know how to approach you, I didn't how how to treat your presence. I made you feel unwelcome whilst you've done nothing to earn my distrust and behaviour. My apology may be lacking but I still do not know what to tell you, what to know you as."

It was like Rhysand was staring at a landscape, with the potential for so much yet he didn't know where to start, to lay the columns; foundation for the bricks to follow.

Mana took a deep breath,

"Treat me as though you would to any pregnant Fae, to your subjects that require your homage. I will not ask you to treat me as anything else because although I haven't done anything that'll earn me disapproval other than my situation, I haven't done anything particularly worthy of special treatment. I have yet to earn my keep."

"You wish to work for me?" The High Lord wasn't surprised but he hadn't expected her to ask before the child was born.

"Yes I would."

Rhysand frowned. It wasn't that she was unable to do a job but rather he found himself worried. And a part of him knew that it wasn't just because of his sibling, he found himself already caring for Mor's cousin.

"How do you feel about books?"

At the little scrunch of her nose and sight crease of her brow at the sudden inquiry, Rhysand grinned.

*.｡*✧*。˖*.✧∘˚˳°～｡☆━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾉ*.✧*｡*ﾟ+☆

Azriel had his spies search every nook and cranny of Lord Vernon's mansion and properties, he himself had checked the place.

Twice.

He told himself it wasn't because of Vernon's niece that he had been so distant, even to Rhys. Whilst Cassian was still in Windhaven and Mor was 'handling' the situation in Hewn City, he was contemplating whether or not to go back.

He sighed; he had to be here for his brother. So he readied himself, snapping a few orders for his spies to follow.

His vague contorted shadows curled around him, whispering secrets only they could carry.

With a grim face for what's to come, he winnowed back home.

*.｡*✧*。˖*.✧∘˚˳°～｡☆━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾉ*.✧*｡*ﾟ+☆

Oh it was beautiful.

The moment Mana stepped foot in the library, she was awestruck by the knowledge those shelves held. Her eyes full of curiosity, those books being the quench for her thirst.

The High Lord didn't stop there, swiftly putting his arm through hers, he strolled towards a figure with her back turned on them, yet to notice.

Suddenly, the figure turned around.

"High Lord, what brings you here?"

Whatever Mana had expected to see wasn't the person in front of her.
The female wore pale robes and a hood with a crown of limpid blue stones.

A priestess. She'd heard of them, of course.

However this wasn't what caused her fury, on further inspection, the females bones bones were bent, knobbed. Her fingers weren't supposed to twist in those angles as a Fae. The horrifying realization that it was permanent; a High Fae should've healed otherwise, made her gasp.

The priestess smiled faintly, as if she knew what Mana was thinking. Which frankly wasn't hard to deduce after her reaction.

"Clotho, Mana is our new addition to the library staff.", Rhysand

Rhysand grinned, he knew he had made the right choice.