The Dark Flower (Azriel x OC)

3. Past Lives (Persephone)

Percy was awake early the following morning. She'd made sure to have her maid wake her at dawn so that she might sneak down for a quick breakfast before lessons began for the day. Usually, the gardens were rather quiet this time of day, but the scattered sound of nearby footsteps signalled the human trying and failing to slip past her undetected. 

"My eyes may not work, but my ears make up for it," Percy told her with an annoyed sigh. "If you had any manners, you would have at least bothered to say hello." 

Moira would have been absolutely horrified by Feyre's lack of ladylike qualities. 

It wasn't as if she wanted to converse with the human. Percy couldn't imagine Feyre had any experience with keeping polite conversation as ladies were meant to do, but despite her status as a bastard, she was still a High Lord's daughter. That required certain things from her. 

"Sorry," Feyre said sounding uncomfortable. "You don't seem overly fond of me and I thought it might be best if I went on by without bothering you." 

Percy sighed, her hands twitched in her lap, aching to tug at the loose curls of her natural hair. It was a nervous habit she'd developed when she was young, and Moira found it distasteful enough to regularly have Percy's hair straightened until she learned to sit still.

"You're right on that account - I'm not overly fond of you. You killed Andras. But I don't hate you for it either - I'd be a hypocrite to hate you."

Feyre took a step closer, the gravel crunching under her foot. "You call Tamlin father..." 

Percy cocked her head to the side. "What an astute observation," she said dryly. 

She could practically feel Feyre's face heating up. "And is he? You don't... well, you don't resemble one another." 

"How should I know how either of us look?" Percy asked, her tone bland. 

Feyre's breath caught in her throat. "That's not what I meant. I meant-"

"Relax," Percy said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "That was a joke. I know that I look quite different from my father. I take after my mother." 

Percy had no idea how she appeared to other people. She knew that her hair was long and curly, where the fae seemed to wear it shorter and straighter. But she could vividly remember running her hands over her own mother's hair and it had been held together with tight curls. She also knew that her skin was darker than most of the fae that were housed in Rosehall since Moira regularly complained about finding cosmetics that suited her coloring. As far as Percy knew, the only trait she shared with her father was her eyes, which he had once told her were as green as the spring grass. 

Feyre inched a bit closer, seeming to have an endless number of questions about Percy and her appearance. "And your mother... were her ears also so..." 

Percy let out an exasperated breath. "My mother was human."