Winds of Fire [ACOTAR]

CHAPTER ONE

18 YEARS LATER

The morning of her 18th birthday had finally come, a dreaded day within the Spring Court. The endless ticking of the count down clock had silenced. They had run out of time. Even the birds who usually sung around the trees of Rosehall had ended their chorus. The daughter of Spring was to be married to the son of Night, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Primrose Daley sat at her vanity as her personal servant Malida braided flowers into her curled hair. A pastel blue dress hung upon Prim's freckled body, a present from Malida. It was made from fine silk and fabrics, a low cut neckline showed her curved feminine features and layers of silver necklaces decorated her chest. The contents of her bedroom behind her had been packed away into boxes, ready to be taken to the Night Court where she would spend the rest of her life. She understood why her father had bargained her future away, and yet she hated the night court with every fibre of her being. She would never be the perfect wife to Orion Archeron, she would spend the rest of her days fighting to come home.

Slipping silk slippers onto her feet, Primrose headed down the grand staircase for what would most likely be the last time. Her father was waiting for her within the sitting room. Releasing a long breath, Primrose walked into the room with her head held high. She would not show him how broken she felt. She knew the rims of her eyes were red, knew that there were grey bags beneath them and that her face was sunken in. She hadn't been eating properly the last few weeks, every time she did she would simply throw everything back up within a matter of minutes.

Tamlin rose from the leather armchair, crossing the room and embracing his daughter. His arms wined around her waist and she rested her head against his chest, taking in the homely smell of him. She had spent her entire life with him as the only member of her family, him being the only person who truly cared for her. She knew what the other courts thought of him, she knew his history, and she loved him anyway. He was her father, and she would defend him always.

Tamlin withdrew his arms, cupping Primrose's freckled cheek, "Happy Birthday, Prim."

Smiling in return, Prim turned towards the low set glass table. Upon it sat three presents, wrapped beautifully in fabrics of green and ribbons of pink. The colours of Spring. The present to the right was the largest, a circular box with a bow upon the lid. Next was a rectangular box, long and thin. Lastly, a square box sat towards the end of the table. Prim sat before them, looking up at Tamlin.

"You know, you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

He shook his head, golden waves cascading off his shoulders, "Nonsense. You're my daughter, of course, I'm going to get you something."

Tamlin had always been the most generous father. He bought her whatever she asked for, as well as things she didn't ask for but he knew she would like. Whenever he would leave the Spring Court, he would always return with presents in hand for her. She told him over and over not to waste his money on her, but apparently, he couldn't refuse. Primrose hoped that one day she would have a child that she loved as much as her father loved her.

Tamlin sat down beside his daughter, shifting slightly in his seat to make sure he didn't crinkle his emerald suit. Prim reached out a freckled arm and lifted the middle rectangular box, placing it on her thighs. Lifting the lid, Primrose gasped at the contents inside. She picked the hilt up gently, resting it within her palm. A dagger. The blade was deathly sharp, she couldn't even imaging using it upon someone. The hilt was silver and had swirls of runes engraved upon it, but that wasn't all. There was also an oval emerald gem implanted within the hilt. Though she didn't often use weapons, Prim knew when to appreciate the beauty of one.

"Oh, Daddy..." She was speechless, rightly so, "It's so beautiful, thank you!"

"You're welcome," Tamlin smiled, watching his daughter deeply, not daring to blink in case he missed something. "I didn't want to let you leave without some sort of weapon. Keep this on you at all times. I need to know you'll be okay without me."

Prim couldn't ignore the hoarseness of his voice or the sudden gloss across his eyes. After putting the blade safely into the box, she rested her hand upon her father's, giving it a gentle squeeze. She didn't need words, she knew he would understand all she had to say. Refusing to let this moment turn melancholy, Tamlin passed Primrose the circular box, insisting she open it. Inside was a gown made up of dusty pink and pale green silks, as she held it before her she knew she had never seen a dress so stunning. The final box opened to reveal a leatherbound notebook.

"They came in a pair," Tamlin explained, "I have one, and you have one. Anything you write in there will appear in mine and visa versa. That way we can still speak to one another, should you want to."

Lower lip beginning to tremble, Prim turned to her father, "I'm really going to miss you."

Despite the kohl liner decorating her eyes, Prim allowed her tears to fall relentlessly down her face. Her chest felt tighter than ever before as her father pulled an arm around her, allowing Prim to lean against him. Pressing a kiss to her temple, Tamlin spoke gently, "And I will miss you so dearly, my child."

He wiped her cheeks with a callused finger, lifting her up and pulling her onto his lap. She nestled against his chest, just as she had done as a babe. Tamlin ran his hands through her hair, circling his fingers over her back comfortingly. They sat there together for minutes, maybe even hours. Neither of them wanted to let go, for things were going to change if they did.

Sooner rather than later, it was time. A knock sounded on the front door of Rosehall and Primrose stood from the chair she was sat in. She had been reading a novel, trying to lose herself in a world that wasn't her own. The sound of the knock rattled through her very bones. Almost as if she wasn't even in her own body, Prim said her goodbyes to the staff who had tended to her over the years before turning to her father. Tamlin was forcing a rather wobbly smile, reaching out for his daughter who entered his arms. She held him so tightly, resting her head upon his shoulder, "I'll try and visit. Often."

"I love you, Primrose." Tamlin whispered, pulling away to admire his daughter and who she had become over these years.

Prim choked on her own breath as she spoke, her voice hoarse like his had been earlier, "I love you too, Daddy."

With nothing left to say and no time left to do so, Prim moved toward the front doors. The handle seemed heavy as she turned it and each step felt endless as she walked down the path. A young male stood with his back to her, he was wearing what seemed to be fighting leathers. Prim cleared her throat, stopping behind him with her hands across her chest. The male turned to her, his cobalt eyes taking her in. This was the first time they were meeting. She wondered if she was how he imagined her to be. Maybe he would have preferred darker skin, bigger breasts, wider hips?

He was stuck with her, and she with him. All they had was one another. He held out a hand, slender fingers reaching out for her. His voice was like lightning in the midst of a storm as he spoke, "Shall we, dearest?"

Without a look back, she took his hand and together, they winnowed to the Night Court.