𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

"𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘙𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥? "

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╰┈˚ · ° .  NOT EVEN AN ENTIRE DAY HAD PASSED before Amarntha's amusement from the first task that Feyre had successfully completed had waned away. And in her boredom, she had commanded my presence.

The red-skinned guards escorted me back to the already familiar room down in the dungeons. It was cold and moisty and the blood stained the floor. In the middle of it there was a metal chair, this time a blue-haired faerie sat on it, bound with magic ropes. Another chair, this one much similar to a small throne, was placed near a wall, exactly where Amarantha would sit comfortably, while watching who she declared to be tortured only for her own pleasure.

Everything was just a sick show prepared perfectly for her tastes.

I was starting to think that Amarantha loved this place more than the throne room and even her own chambers for how much time she was willing to spend there.

Hours and hours passed, I switched from one blade to another, to fire and even water. I carved the skin of the faerie until her nerves were uncovered, until her vocal cords didn't healed anymore from the amount of her screaming, until she had no more blood left to spill. All of it, of an unusual blue color, stained my hands and flew down to the floor creating a bid puddle underneath the chair.

The show had ended for The Queen with the death of the fairie, but what I had done would stay with me for the rest of her life.

And I continued to think only one thought throughout the entire time. Better her than my sisters.

"What is your name? " I had whispered just before the faerie's last breath.

Layla. That was her name. And it was already scarred into my soul alongside all the other ones. I didn't care, and still, I did.

I knew that not even the time for the day to come to term, I would end up forgetting her name, just like I had already forgotten the dozens that came before the blue-haired faerie, but at least I knew who I had killed in that moment. Whose life I had taken and whose soul I had rendered.

With the blood dry on my scarred hands, the red-skinned guards escorted me back to the cell, where as soon as the door closed casting everything in darkness with only the slight light coming from the cracks, The High Lord of the Night Court stepped away from the hidden corner.

"Here again, Rhysand?" I asked, voice even raspier than what normally sounded from the lack of using as I sat down on the straw-made bed.

Rhysand tsked at my rhetorical question. I could swear that he even rolled his eyes, but with as much light as there was, I was not very convinced of that.

"I came to inform you that I healed your sister, but you were not here. Then I heard the screams." Rhysand said sitting down next to me without a care.

I turned towards him, already half expecting that he did that, if I had to be honest. I was happy that Feyre was healed but I knew that the High Lord didn't do it from the kindness of his heart. At least not only for that.

"What? Are you not going to thank me?" He asked with fake mirth.

The tung of magic filled my nostrils as a bowl of water and a rug appeared in the High Lord's hands, and a flame floated above us to light slightly the room a bit more.

Rhysand extended one of his hands forward. A silent demand to give him my blood-coated hands. I rolled her eyes, too tired to fight him on this and decided to just comply. At least I would have clean hands, at least physically.

"What bargain did she make with you?" I inquired, referring to the fact that he had healed my twin.

Rhysand smirk morphed into a smug grin as he stopped cleaning my hands to answer the question. "I healed her arm in exchange for her living with me a week every month." He explained.

I studied the High Lord's face. For a second I thought that Rhysand was joking to have bargained for that, but no, he was completely serious.

I could help but burst out laughing. The laugh sounded weird, almost wrong, too raspy and breathy, but tears gathered in the corner of my eyes at how pathetic I thought that bargain was. Oh I had not had this much fun in a while.

"Do you fancy my sister, Rhysand?" I grinned through my question once I was calm enough to speak.

"No, but I have my motives for doing that." He scoffed, almost affrontend by what I had asked.

"Your motive is just pissing off Tamlin." I chuckled, understanding that there was really bad blood between the two High Lords.

"True." Rhysand said, lips twisting up in a smirk as he started to clean once again my hands with the wet rug.

"Did we do a bargain that I have no knowledge of?" I asked after a couple of seconds of comfortable silence.

Rhysand looked up at me in question and my only answer was pointing down at my hands with my head, how he was taking his time to make sure that there was not even a speck of blood left behind.

The raven-haired Fae rolled his eyes. "No Vee. Can't I do something just for kindness? Maybe I just enjoy your company." At his answer I couldn't help but scoff. "And stop calling me Rhysand, It makes me feel like my actions to gain your friendship are all in vain." The High Lord added with a wicked smirk.

"Vee?" I asked with an amused smile "No one calls me that." Then I added "Fortunately."

"Exactly my point." Rhysand said with a wink ignoring my last comment before snapping his fingers together to make the bowl of water and rug and fire disappear.

He then rose to his feet, he passed his hands down his suit to smooth out any wrinkles that had possibly formed.

"Thank you for this." I said in a whisper after letting out a sigh and without looking at him "And for what you did with Feyre." I added. Feeling like everything had become too emotional for my liking, I met his gaze with oy smile "And don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I will not tell Feyre about your little crush. " I teased him.

Rhysand groaned. "I'm already regretting this." He mumbled.

I snorted at the High Lord before waving my fingers tauntingly at him "Goodnight, Rhys."

"Goodnight, Vee." He mumbled, before winnowing out of the cell.

A smile formed on Rhysand's lips. He felt it again. An emotion that he had not thought possible to ever feel in the nightmare place that had become Under the Mountain. The feeling of being home when he was next to the girl. Because what he felt in those sparse moments next to Maiven was exactly how he felt every time he was in Velaris.

✎

˗ˏˋ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ˊˎ˗

Hello everyone!

I know that this is a short chapter, but I love it and I guess it's essential for Maiven's character. You'll see why.

A friendship is blooming between these two! I have so much in mind for them!

Anyways, thank you for reading this chapter, I'll see you on Tuesday!

˚ · ° . 𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞 . ° · ˚

𝐓𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

– 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐚 ☾