The Dark Flower (Azriel x OC)

9. Warning From the Night Court (Persephone)

Weeks fly by, seeming both far too slow and far too fast for Percy to keep track of. Things had changed for the better between her father and Feyre. They seemed to be constantly sneaking away for rides and secret whispers. But for Percy... well, nothing had changed in truth. 

She was dragged from bed each morning by Moira, who was still cross with her after her outburst on her birthday, and forced to endure lessons that seemed to be more and more pointless by the day. She was relearning the same things time and time again. The same poetry and the same songs and the same dances, and for what? 

For the first time in her life, she found herself wondering how any of this could help her succeed at anything other than being a pretty little trinket that her father her father occasionally allowed out as entertainment. For the first time, she wanted more out of life, but she was painfully aware that because of who she was and where she lived, this was the most that she could ever hope to achieve. And that thought alone was enough to put her into a quiet pit of depression - one that was mistaken as a tantrum. 

"I've just about had enough of this behavior of yours," Moira seethed as she paced back and forth through the library. "You don't just embarrass yourself when you act like this. You embarrass the entirety of the court. Now recite the Ballad of Anastasia."

Percy knew that poem forwards and backwards. It was the tale of the beautiful Anastasia, a commoner who found her mate in the High Lord of Spring. As a child, Percy had found it sweet and romantic, but as she was older now, she took offense to the bit where Anastasia was gifted a human slave by her new mate. 

Besides, even if she didn't find the poem distasteful, she no longer felt compelled to excel at her work. She no longer felt that there was a reward attached to her efforts, and some deep buried part of her wanted to see if her father would bother doing anything. 

So far, the answer was a resounding no. They hardly ever spoke save for polite conversation at the dinner table. Instead, all of his attentions surrounded Feyre, and Percy couldn't even find it in herself to be upset with the arrangement. She merely wished that he might spare a moment or two aside each day for her, so that they might discuss an alternative to Moira's ridiculous schedule, which was busier than ever before. 

"Did you know that Alis looked like that?" Feyre hissed out as she dropped into Percy's hiding spot in the stables. 

"Is that a joke?" Percy asked dryly. 

Feyre paused. "Right. That was stupid... Her skin is made of tree bark." 

Percy arched a brow. "You've been here for quite some time and you're only just noticing this?" 

"Tamlin said the glamour was lifted and... and everything has changed," Feyre told her, voice tight and pinched. 

There had been a glamour in place? Percy cocked her head to the side. "Do I appear different now, as well?" 

Feyre let out a shrill sort of laugh. "No... you're still the same."