Winds of Fire [ACOTAR]

CHAPTER SEVEN

Prim was called for dinner as the sun slowly set in the new court she was meant to call home. The stars were dancing, eager to come out and shine against the darkening sky. The sound of a chair scraping set Prim's teeth on edge as she entered the dining room, Orion now stumbling into his chair.

He had a glass of red wine in hand, sipping at it generously as he watched Prim take up her seat. She didn't look at him as she focused on the food before her, some sort of pasta with tomato sauce. She could feel him looking at her from across the table, feel his glares upon her. Primrose was almost certain he was drunk. She didn't take him as a day time drinker. It most likely had something to do with the meeting he had attended earlier that day.

Prim stabbed her pasta onto her fork, eating it slowly and savouring it as Orion drank and drank. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone and he had shoved the sleeves up to his elbows. Prim matched his glare as she looked up, his teeth were digging into his lower lip and he was slouched back into the chair. "So," Prim started, setting down her fork, "Are you going to tell me what happened in that meeting earlier?"

Orion swirled his wine within the glass, raising an eyebrow, "Do you want to know?"

Yes, I want you to stop being so dramatic and tell me what it is exactly that's bothering you so much.

Prim just shrugged, "Well, do you want to tell me?"

Orion slammed his glass down, his eyes fiery, "Stop playing games with me, Primrose."

Prim went still, blinking glassy eyes at the boy before her. In that second, she saw it. Saw the side of him that he likely displayed to the world. The Son of Night. Chills spread through Prim but she found herself nodding. "Yes," she whispered, "I would like to know."

Orion left out an exhale, the smell of alcohol drifting from his breath, "It was to discuss my status within the court. Being married to you changed things according to my father."

"Changed things?" Prim asked confusingly, a frown knitting in her brows, "Like what?"

"Like me potentially becoming High Lord and you becoming High Lady," he deadpanned, his eyes scanning Prim as he said it. As if somehow this was all her fault.

"Oh..." Prim muttered, "I didn't realise that was what you wanted."

Orion laughed, though there was no amusement in the sound, "It's not, not in the slightest. I never wanted to be high lord and I never will be."

Prim watched her so-called husband. His slightly tanned skin, his bright eyes, the ring that settled on his left hand, the tattoos that she could see peeking out through his shirt. He was the perfect image of a High Lord, just as his father was. They could be brothers - twins even.

She leaned forward, propping her chin upon her fist, "Tell me to mind my own business but, why not?"

Orion's eyes dropped to his wine, deciding whether to drink it or not. Instead, he looked back to Prim, pressing his lips together with a shrug, "I want to be normal. Politics have never been something I've enjoyed. Plus, if Nova takes over we will have the first solo High Lady in the entire history of Prythian."

"How long have you felt like that?" Prim asked innocently, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek as she opened her hand to rest her jaw upon it.

Orion licked his lips, his lower lip bleeding slightly from where his teeth had pierced the skin, "Since I can remember. Having your future ripped from you at eight years old changes that though."

Prim's mouth opened in a shocked gasp before she could stop it, "You were eight when the bargain was made?"

"Yes, and I had an entire life before that." Orion snapped, though not directly at Prim, more at the situation, "Ever since, I haven't been the same. Knowing my life and happiness were being used to secure an alliance between courts wasn't exactly the highlight of my childhood."

"I'm sorry," said Prim, her apologises clear in the way that her voice broke slightly, "I guess I never realised how badly this affected you too."

Orion's lip rose in a sneer, "No, I doubt you would."

Prim leaned back in her chair, her hand subconsciously going to the base of her neck where she breathed rapidly, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shaking his head, Orion downed the rest of his wine, "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

He's just drunk. He's drunk and he doesn't mean it.
He's drunk but he still despises you. He will always despise you.

Prim stood, walking backwards toward the door. "Wow," she breathed disbelievingly, "I was beginning to feel sorry for you but I guess you really are a prick."

Orion did not call Primrose's name as she turned and stalked out from the room. She rounded for the stairs, taking them two at a time as she headed toward her room. The hall seemed longer as she ran her hands through her hair, her throat tightening as she swung the door to her room open. She stopped in the doorway, looking at the person upon her bed.

When Prim had unpacked everything, she had left the boxes in a pile within the corner, not quite knowing how to dispose of them. Within them, she had hidden an item she also wanted to get rid of. An item, she supposed, that wasn't exactly hers to get rid of.

Loysa was sat on Prim's bed, her face a canvas of disgust. In her hands, she held Prim's bloodstained and ripped wedding dress. Loysa's eyes went wide, full of anger, as she found Prim stood there before her.

Prim started into the room, "Loysa I-"

"How could you? This dress was a gift, do you even have any idea how much it cost?" Loysa yelled, balling the dress into her fists.

Prim's face was cold with tears, "I- I just can't have it around as a reminder."

"You disappoint me, Lady of Spring," Loysa spat, standing up and taking the dress with her. She brushed past Prim, knocking her shoulder purposefully.

Prim turned, determined not to have anyone else hate her, "Loysa please, I'll pay for it, I'll-"

"You have done enough, Primrose!" she snapped, "Perhaps, you will enjoy yourself more if you try to at least love what you believe is unloveable."

Prim watched, her lips trembling, as Loysa disappeared down the hall, her destroyed dress in hand. Rushing into her room, Prim quickly managed to close her door before a sob escaped her. Her hand went to her mouth to cover the noise as she slid down the side of the door and onto the floor. Loysa was right, she was a disappointment. If anything, she was the unloveable one. She wanted her father, wanted him to wrap her up and tell her it was okay. Everything was most definitely not okay.