𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

While Lucien ranted to Tamlin about some malfunction of the magical, carved eye, I quietly ate my food.

"Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?" Lucien asked Feyre. Indeed, she had been studying the sword that was strapped to his chest.

"Of course not," she said softly, and glanced at Tamlin.

"Feyre likes to hunt," Tamlin spoke up.

"I don't like to hunt. I hunted out of necessity. And how did you know that?"

"Why else were you in the woods that day? You had a bow and arrows in your house. When I saw your fathers hands, I knew he wasn't the one using them. You told him about the rations and money from pelts. Faeries might be many things, but were not stupid. Unless your ridiculous legends claim that about us, too."

"How old are you, anyway?" Lucien asked her.

"Nineteen."

Lucien tsked. "So young, and so grave. And a skilled killer already."

"So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?" she demanded. Lucien smirked.

"We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings—"

"Didnt ," Tamlin interrupted, his deep voice surprisingly gentle, "didnt your mother tell you anything about us?"

"My mother didnt have the time to tell me stories," she said.

"How did she die?" Tamlin asked. "I didnt see signs of an older woman in your house."

"Typhus. When I was eight," she said, raising from her seat.

"Feyre," Tamlin said, and she half turned. "I'm sorry for your loss." She didn't reply. She just turned on her heel and left.

I thought of my own mother. The warm female who would hold me and sing me to sleep at night. She truly loved me.

She loved us all. Just not as much as she loved our father. Which was why she didn't step in when our father would have his outbursts. Even my older brothers weren't safe from his rage.

Tamlin had inherited that rage. Though, he was never violent with me, he could be just as terrifying as our father was.

I never dared to compare them out loud. He had despised our father more than I had. If I ever dared tell him who he sometimes reminded me of, I'd likely regret it.

✯¸.'*¨'*✿ ✿*'¨*'.¸✯

The spring air was refreshing. I threw my head back, breathing it and savoring it as I made my way to the stables.

I smiled brightly at Lucien, who was saddling up a horse before he went off to patrol the woods. He gave me a mocking smile back.

"You're joining me?" he called out as I neared.

"Yes," I replied with a firm nod.

"How did you manage to convince your dear brother to let you out of that manor?" he joked.

"I cried a lot," I admitted, shrugging. "Mentioned how much I miss our mother."

"You manipulative thing," he joked, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"You would do the same if you were cooped up all the time," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

"Perhaps," he said with a deep sigh. "You don't know how to shoot, and you love animals. What's your purpose of joining me?"