A Court of Wind and Song

16: Wings

Leur

After two and a half weeks of constant working and sleepless nights, I finally made the time to go and train the Illyrian women. I hadn't seen them since before the attack, and I would have been lying if I did not say that I missed it.

Feeling like I was fixing something was only part of it. If I was being truly honest, it was because there was some part of me that only came alive when I was in Illyria, near Ramiel. Such a subtle difference, a slight shift in my bones, a feeling of rightness. I've been so proud of the women, of how far they had come, at how much they had overcome.

So, I pulled yet another all nighter working in order to be here today. The guilt I felt for leaving my people was only overshadowed by the fact that I needed something good, for more reasons than I could list.

Solarea's destruction. The deaths, the injured, broken families, homes and churches flooded and burned.

The rage I felt, so deep in my chest that my heart pounded with it.

The burning desire to make Acantha suffer, to watch her bleed, to revel in what I would do to her when I caught her.

And perhaps the worst of all, the fact that Feyre was pregnant.

I was going to be an aunt.

There was one part of me that was overjoyed beyond belief. Perhaps the largest part of myself, where I could not bring myself to be anything but thrilled for my brother. A child, a sweet innocent baby, the culmination of the happiness I had always wished for Rhys.

Another part of me could not contain the worry I felt within myself, the knowledge that if anything happened to Feyre or the baby, if Acantha did anything- I would be responsible for my own niece or nephew's injury or death. Fear that I would ruin this child, just as I had managed to ruin nearly everything else in my life.

And the third part of me- the third part made me sick to my stomach.

Deep rooted jealousy, down to my very bones. So strong that I thought I'd turn green, like a feral animal screaming inside of me. Voices that I had shoved down for so long, ones I was finally forced to confront the moment my shadows had whispered the truth in my ear.

And perhaps it was those voices that had made me deny what I had seen for two months now.

I knew the signs, the early ones that were nearly unnoticeable. And to everyone else, they were.

But I had spent nearly four months of my life hiding those very things I saw clear as day on Feyre. That radiant glow on her cheeks, disguised trips to the restroom every morning, the hidden queasiness on her face when she returned. She was thirstier than usual, hungrier than usual, a slight filling out of her hips and chest. Excuses for why she did not want a glass of wine, the way her hand rested over her stomach when she thought that no one was looking.

That shield that Rhys refused to drop from around her.

I knew all of that far too well.

I knew, and I had said nothing. I had thought that maybe I was wrong, seeing things that weren't there. Some deep part of me that I could not bear to admit was there screaming inside, like a frightened child hiding under her covers from a thunderstorm, cowardly thinking that if I hid from it long enough then it would go away.

Of course, it hadn't. And I was left to plaster a smile on my face while everything inside of me burned.

Perhaps it was the fact that they were able to be happy about this child, this life, when I was never able to be. Perhaps it was the fact that they had hope I had never had, security I had never had. Perhaps it was the fact that they had the kind of peace and security where they could have a child.