A/N: Rhys pouting because he and Feyre fought.

The inner circle left Hawn City like they had entered, with swagger and menace. Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Nala returned to Velaris while Rhys took Feyre away to speak. 

Nala sat on the sofa in the townhouse's living room, smiling at Azriel as he handed her a cup of hot chocolate before sitting down to her right, pulling her body closer to his own until she was almost sitting on his lap. "You think they are going to confess their attraction for each other?" 

Azriel chuckled in her ear, while Cassian shook his head at the female as he took a seat on the armchair to their left. "No way," he took a sip of his whiskey before continuing. "Rhys is far too emotionally fucked up to even consider admitting that he likes your sister." 

Mor rolled her eyes at the three. "Maybe we don't talk behind their backs like this?" 

"Or maybe we bet behind their back?" Nala teased, looking at Cassian, knowing that he would be most likely to take her bet. He smirked back at her with a small nod. 

Azriel simply pulled Nala tighter to him as they waited for the last two to make their way home. 

Feyre entered first and hurried past them in a hurry to go upstairs with only a short goodnight, making Nala furrow her brows. And she only became more confused as Rhys walked in behind her, his hands in his pockets, face turned to the floor, and a pout on his face. 

You take care of that, Nala whispered down her mate bond to Azriel with a jerk of her head to Rhys. I got Fey. He gave a small nod as he let her up from his side and she made her way past the High Lord with a simple squeeze of his hand and a small smile. 

***

Nala found her sister in the garden, staring up at the night sky with a troubled look on her face. 

"You want to talk about it?" It had been far too long since the two sisters had time like this to simply be there for one another. Where they didn't have to be Feyre Cursebreaker or Nala the Terrifying Halfling. 

Feyre turned to look over her shoulder, and her face fell just a bit before she gave her sister a sad smile. "Hey, " her voice was full of emotion, and Nala smiled back at the older Archeron. Feyre had expected another, as her shoulders fell as she looked at her little sister.

"Sorry," Nala shrugged with a teasing smile as she stood at her sister's side. "I'm afraid that I'm not a handsome, tall, and brooding male. Just your little sister." 

Feyre laughed at her sister before laying her head on Nala's shoulder with a small and sad sigh. "I hurt him..." Nala ran her hand through Feyre's hair with a soft hum, urging the female to go on. "He apologized for tonight, I compared his behavior to Tamlin and said some hurtful things, using secrets he told me in confidence because I wanted to hurt him." Feyre sniffed as she took Nala's free hand in hers to draw on the back of it to distract herself from crying. 

"He'll come around, he knows that you didn't mean it," Nala assured her sister, no doubt in her voice. "He just needs to cool off. And of course, you compared him to the idiot because he was acting like an idiot tonight," Feyre gave a small chuckle but kept quiet as Nala continued. "He understands what Tamlin put you through, and he no doubt hates himself for making you relive that. I'm sure he hates himself more than he does you." 

"I don't want him to hate himself," Feyre sniffled, a tear running down her cheek and onto Nala's shoulder. "I want us to go back to being friends." 

Nala laughed at that, hard, making Feyre sit up and look at her sister in disbelief. "What?!" The older sister exclaimed, kind of annoyed by her little sister's laugh. 

"Sorry," Nala smirked at Feyre, squeezing the older sister's hand. "But you two looked like you wanted to fuck each other earlier," Feyre blushed and looked away from her sister with a huff, and Nala giggled at the action. "There is nothing wrong with that you know?" She pushed Feyre's shoulder with her own. 

Feyre rolled her eyes at the halfling, smiling slightly, her cheeks still rosa when she looked back up at her sister. "And what about you?" 

"What about me?" Nala asked, her tone laced with fake innocence as she smirked at her older sister. "I have no feelings for our dear High lord, don't you worry." A smack sounded as Feyre hit her sister's shoulder, making both of them laugh lightly. 

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Feyre leaned back in her seat as she turned her face back to the sky. "I was talking about you, Amren, and Azriel?" Feyre's voice was light and Nala felt no judgement coming from her sister. There was only curiosity. 

The Halfling released a breath, allowing her magic to run through her body to make smoke come out of her mouth as she too leaned back in her seat. "We are mates," Feyre snapped her head towards Nala, but the younger one didn't remove her eyes from the sky. "Amren believes that Varian is our mate as well, that bond snapped between her and him while we were in the Summer court, but not for me, and Az haven't met him since after Under the Mountain." 

"Wow," Feyre breathed. "Mates? Like soulmates?" Her eyes shone with the possibility of that being a thing here. 

"Yeah, kind of. But stronger," Nala placed a hand on her chest, the spot from where her mating bond with Az and Amren was stretching. "I can constantly feel Am and Az here, and with my ability to see magic, I can even see our magic and how it connects. We are waiting to fully accept it until we know if Varian is all of ours or only Amren's mate. But when it's fully cemented then we'll be bonded forever." 

"That sounds beautiful," Feyre whispered into the air, but she couldn't help but be a bit worried for her sister. "And you are truly happy with this?" 

Nala finally looked over at her sister, saw the worry in the older girl's eyes, and smiled. "I am." She sighed, feeling the warmth that both Azriel and Amren sent her down the bond. "Happier than I have ever been." 

Feyre squeezed her hand again, but the worry didn't disappear completely with her sister's words. "And if Varian is only Amren's mate and not you and Azriel's mate? What then?" 

"Then we need to have a chat and find out what we do from there," Nala smirked at her sister. "You know, like grown-ups do." Feyre pushed Nala away, making the younger sister laugh. "But in all seriousness," Feyre looked at Nala once more as the younger female's voice lost its teasing tone. "They make me happy, Velaris makes me happy, being Fae makes me happy. I'm happy Fey, you don't have to worry about me." She shifted closer to her older sister and took both of her hands in her own. "But are you?" 

Feyre sighed as she looked down at their connected hands. "Sometimes," she whispered, almost scared to admit her feelings. "Sometimes I wish to be human again, to be ignorant to the dangers we stand to face. But then I remember all the suffering everyone would go through if I hadn't gone Under the Mountain. And I feel guilty for wanting a simple life." 

"You have nothing to feel guilty over," Azriel spoke from behind them, having walked out to see if the two were doing okay or needed anything. Feyre jumped slightly at his deep voice, a blush making its way up her neck at haven admitted such feeling before the intimidating male. "You have every right to want a simple life, and no one here would fault you if that is what you wish for." He walked closer, his body still almost hidden away by the shadows that accompanied him everywhere. "You have already sacrificed so much for Prythian." 

Feyre looked away, overwhelmed by the words. "Thanks," she stood suddenly, dropping her sister's hands before backing away from the two shadowsingers. "I'm going to go to bed, goodnight." And before either of the other two could say a word, the female had fled to her room. 

"Sorry," Azriel whispered to Nala as he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. "I didn't mean to scare her away like that." He placed a kiss on her hair. 

Nala leaned into his warmth with a sigh. "It's okay, she is just sensitive about her feelings, she is just embarrassed that you saw her vulnerable." 

Azriel simply hummed before they two took to the sky to fly back to the House of Winds. 

***

Rhys' office was cloaked in a dim, amber glow from the brazier in the corner, casting flickering shadows on the dark walls. A heavy silence filled the air as Rhys stood at the head of the circular table; his dark, angular features carved with a grim determination. The intricate silver map of Nigh Court gleamed beneath his hands as he leaned over it.

Nala and Azriel stood before him, hands behind their back as their shadows merged and mingled between them. Nala wore her usual leather armor, her golden hair falling down her back in soft curls. Her sharp green eyes followed Rhys's every movement. Beside her, Azriel, cloaked in Illyrian leathers and his Siphons, lingered in the edge of the firelight. His presence was almost spectral, his hazel eyes betraying no emotion.

Rhys's voice cut through the stillness like a blade. "Whoever attached us yesterday needs to be found, or at least we need to know who the fuck have the nerves to attack us in our own Court." He straightened, his gaze sweeping over his two shadow-singers. 

He turned to Nala first. "I want those woods combed through; I want every single stone turned for evidence."

Nala's lips tightened into a thin line as she nodded. "Consider it done. If they're still within our borders, they won't slip past me."

Rhys's gaze shifted to Azriel, who remained still, his presence more shadow than man. "Azriel, your network of spies is unmatched. I need them combing every whisper, every tavern murmur, every shadowed corner. Find out who they are, where they came from, and who gave them the means to attract us."

Azriel inclined his head ever so slightly, his voice a quiet rasp. "It's already in motion. My eyes are everywhere. They'll have no place to hide."

Rhys stepped back from the table, crossing his arms. His voice dropped, laced with cold certainty. "They sought to challenge me, to disrupt my court. We will show them the folly of their actions. And when we have them..." He paused; his dark eyes gleaming. "...they will wish for a quick death."

Nala and Azriel exchanged brief glances before bowing, each in their own way—Nala with a soldier's crispness, Azriel with a subtle nod—and left the chamber to carry out their tasks.

Rhys stood alone for a moment longer, staring at the silver map. He let out a slow breath, his hands behind his back as he glared at the massive forest they now had to search. 

"Alright then," he turned to walk out and winnowed out after the two. 

***

After spending most of the day by herself, Feyre headed for Amren's apartment across the river, needing the walk to clear her head.

Winter had indeed yielded to spring. By the time she was halfway there, her overcoat was slung over her arm, and sweat slicked her body beneath the heavy cream sweater she wore.

She found Amren the same way she had the last time: hunched over the Book, papers strewn around her, but no Nala this time. Feyre set the blood on the counter.

Without looking up, Amren said, "Ah. The reason why Rhys bit my head off this morning."

Feyre leaned against the counter, frowning. "Where's he gone off to?"

"To hunt whoever attacked you yesterday, along with Azriel and Nala," Amren replied.

The thought of ash arrows in their enemies' arsenal gnawed at Feyre, and she tried to quell the worry biting deep. "Do you think it was the Summer Court?" she asked, glancing at the blood ruby still sitting on the floor, still used as a paperweight against the river breeze blowing in from the open windows. Varian's necklace now lay beside Amren's bed, as though she fell asleep looking at it.

"Maybe," Amren said, dragging a finger along a line of text. She seemed so absorbed she hadn't even bothered with the blood Feyre had brought. Feyre debated leaving her to it.

But Amren continued, "Regardless, it seems that our enemies have a track on Rhys's magic. Which means they're able to find him when he winnows anywhere or if he uses his powers." At last, she looked up. "You lot are leaving Velaris in two days. Rhys wants you stationed at one of the Illyrian war-camps—where you'll fly down to the human lands once the queens send word."

"Why not today?" Feyre asked.

"Because Starfall is tomorrow night—the first we've had together in fifty years. Rhys is expected to be here, amongst his people."

"What's Starfall?"

Amren's eyes twinkled. "Outside of these borders, the rest of the world celebrates tomorrow as Nynsar—the Day of Seeds and Flowers." Feyre almost flinched at that. She hadn't realized just how much time had passed since she'd arrived in the Night Court.

"But Starfall," Amren continued, "only at the Night Court can you witness it—only within this territory is Starfall celebrated in lieu of the Nynsar revelry. The rest, and the why of it, you'll find out. It's better left as a surprise."

That explained why people already seemed to be preparing for a celebration: High Fae and faeries bustling home with arms full of vibrant wildflower bouquets and streamers and food. The streets were being swept and washed; storefronts patched up with quick, skilled hands.

"Will we come back here once we leave?" Feyre asked.

Amren returned her attention to the Book. "Not for a while."

Something in Feyre's chest began to sink. To an immortal, "a while" must mean a long, long time.

Taking it as an invitation to leave, Feyre headed for the door in the back of the loft. But Amren's voice stopped her.

"When Rhys came back, after Amarantha, he was a ghost. He pretended he wasn't, but he was. You made him come alive again."

Feyre froze, words stalling on her lips. She didn't want to think about it—not when whatever good she'd done, whatever good they'd done for each other, might have been wiped away by what she'd said to him.

So, she only replied, "He is lucky to have all of you."

"No," Amren said softly—more gently than Feyre had ever heard her speak. "We are lucky to have him, Feyre."

Feyre turned from the door.

"I have known many High Lords," Amren continued, studying her papers. "Cruel ones, cunning ones, weak ones, powerful ones. But never one that dreamed. Not as he does."

"Dreams of what?" Feyre breathed.

"Of peace. Of freedom. Of a world united, a world thriving. Of something better—for all of us."

"He thinks he'll be remembered as the villain in the story," Feyre murmured.

Amren snorted.

"But I forgot to tell him," Feyre said quietly as she opened the door, "that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key."

"Oh?"

Feyre shrugged. "He was the one with plans of getting me out. And took me and Nala in without a second thought."

***

The next morning Nala walked into the kitchen at the House of Winds to see Rhys standing there with a small pout on his face. 

"You are a dumbass." She spoke as she started to make her tea. 

"I know." He responded, his voice low and he looked at the table. 

"Go talk to her, you idiot." Nala turned to look at him and leaned back on the counter. 

"I can't," he whispered, mostly ashamed by his reaction. "And is this how you speak to your High Lord who houses and feed you?" He tried to change the subject which only made her roll her eyes. 

"Dumbass," she countered as she took her cup and walked out the kitchen to take her tea with Azriel on the balcony.