Fifteen

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Tamlin summoned me to his office the next morning. I was worried—more like terrified. I'd defied him yesterday, I'd helped that wraith after he'd turned her away like trash. And worst of all it had felt good—to help someone, to stand up for myself.

    Though at that moment those feats seemed so small in comparison to the fear I felt.

    I was sure I like a disheveled mess, I'd been torn from my sleep by the same nightmare as every night. I'd barely slept at all in the stuffy room. There was no air, no breath, and I was sure my lungs would cave in on me at any moment. I'd spent the morning and most of the night on the balcony.

    After the Tithe incident, it had been too risky to visit the Haven, Tamlin had increased my guards—this time in order to prevent me from making rash decisions. I felt like a caged animal that needed to be tamed in their eyes.

    The hallways were near silent, the only sound was my too-loud breathing that seemed to echo in my ears.

    I came to a stop at the nearly carved and polished door. I rolled my neck in an attempt to ease the near petrifying nerves I felt.

    I was weak.

    I was the pathetic thing they all thought I was. I used to think I could have been more, and yet all I'd become was a small frail thing that couldn't even knock on a door.

I was disgusted with myself.

    I raised my hand, about to bang against the hardwood, but a voice sounded before I could, "Come in." Tamlin's voice was the pinnacle of disappointment and quiet wrath. And I squeezed my eyes shut as I realized where this was going to go.

    I opened the door, coming face to face with the High Lord of Spring himself. His elbows leaned against his desk with his arms crossed in front of him. His body was tense and yet what truly sent a wave of fear through me were his eyes. So many things swirled through them that I wasn't sure what he meant to do now.

    "Close the door." He inclined his chin behind me. I listened.

    He nodded his chin again this time to one of the chairs in front of him. I sat down. "What did you want to see me about?" I asked him, trying to look relaxed.

    "You know what it is." He replied. He lifted his chin, a clear sign of him trying to intimidate me, "You gave that water-wraith your jewelry. Jewelry I gave you."

    I took a risk. A stupid uncalculated risk with my next words, "The jewelry you gave me, paid for with the money you take from the poor?" Tamlin snarled, I was sure if I could see his hands, the beginnings of claws would glint at his fingers.

    "Say that again."

    I gulped almost imperceptibly. I spoke in a less harsh tone than in an attempt to ease the rising tension that had seemed to escalate in mere seconds, "Why shouldn't I have given them to her?" I looked up and around the room, noticing the gold flourishes on the walls, the expensive shelves, and the furniture. We were fortunate here. "This house is filled with valuables, things none of us even need. Does it truly matter if I help one person with a few jewels that I likely wouldn't wear more than once?"

"Because you undermine the laws of this court when you behave like that. Because that is how things are done here, and when you hand a gluttonous faerie the money she needs, it makes me—makes the entire court—look weak."

"Weak?" my rising temper began to break through, "That faerie and her sisters were starving, High Lord. You still have no idea what it was like for my sisters and I to be on the verge of poverty, to not know when our next meal was. We were starving too." I rose from my seat then, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, "Do not pretend for a moment that you know anything about that. You live in luxury while others suffer. And apparently, I'll be damned if I help one faerie get the money she needs?"

Tamlin stormed upright from his seat as well, bracing his arms on his desk—claws and all as his teeth were bared with fangs. "How dare you speak to me that way!"

"I am not your subject." I hadn't even realized they were Rhysands words until I'd said them aloud. I hadn't realized how true they were either. "I didn't even want to come back here in the first place! I'm not even a Spring Court citizen for Cauldron's sake, stop treating me like I'm a post-human dog you can play fetch with!" I was angry. No, I was beyond angry. I wasn't even sure there was a word to describe the pure rage I felt at that moment.

I hadn't realized how much anger and resentment I'd been harboring. How much I loathed this place and everything it stood for. Finally releasing it felt like a weight was being lifted from my chest, from my entire being really.

I could have sworn sparks danced at my fingertips as I yelled again, "You stuff me into your house and lock me up like a prisoner. Feyre isn't that far off—you wanted to know why I didn't want you two together, it's because you suffocate us. You take the air from our lungs, Tamlin." I was nearly sobbing at that point, my words were angry and yet they possessed a certain level of despair to them as well, "I'm drowning. I am drowning, and you are going to force Feyre under the water just as you did me."

Tamlin's breathing was ragged, his chest rose and fell at a too rapid pace. The coppery scent of magic filled the room.

And suddenly in the blink on an eye the study was gone. Replaced with shards and dust.

─── · 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

A/N: anyone wanna help me murder Tamlin? The hunting party leaves at dawn, just as an fyi.

𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)Where stories live. Discover now