One thing that is very rare to see in Spring Court fashion is to see somebody wearing long sleeves but lately that was all that Amara wore. Yes, it meant that she was overly warm at all hours of the day because of how much she made sure to cover her body with her clothing but she physically couldn't stand to look at her body or have anyone else look at it either.

If she stayed covered up, then no one could see them. If she stayed covered up, then she could forget the scratches existed.

The red marks covered nearly every single part of her body in dark, unhealing slashes. She'd tried everything that she could find, salves, tonics, her own healing powers, but nothing was working. They were constant reminders that she didn't need; her nightmares were enough to remind her of everything that had happened. She kept every single mirror in her room covered so that she didn't accidentally catch a glimpse of herself and the harsh strikes in her skin. She hadn't looked at them since coming back to the Spring Court and seeing them stand out in the bright spring sunshine; not unless she was washing and even then she made it quick while the tears fell in streams down her face.

Sometimes all that Amara wished was that Rhys would just hurry up and cash in on this stupid bargain. Not the one that he made with Feyre but the annoying one he'd made with Amara. All she needed right now was to get away and be able to sit in silence and cry without having to worry about keeping her image as the happy Spring Court Lady. Right now all that mattered was image and it was tearing her apart to try and keep hers intact.

The only issue was that she knew Feyre and Tamlin were hoping more than anything that Rhys would forget about the bargains. If Rhys forgot about Amara's then maybe he would forget about Feyre's as well. Maybe didn't have to deal with the Night Court anymore and the High Lord and future Lady of the Spring Court could get married and live their lives in peace while they tried to rebuild their home. The happy couple could ride off in to the sunset with horses provided by the Priestesses and love the rest of their eternal lives in the Spring Court, happy and completely oblivious to everything else going on in Prythian.

For Amara though, that sounded like the last thing that she could ever want. She needed to get away. Everywhere she went in the Spring Court, looks of pity followed. She couldn't go anywhere without someone apologising, children turning away, someone crying because 'the beauty of our fair Lady has been tainted'. It was driving her insane.

She could cover the scratches that were on her body. She could do that with clothes and making sure that nothing was lacy or too see through. But the scratches on her face?

Those weren't going anywhere.

~~~

A soft sigh left Amara's lips as she glanced over at her covered window. She never kept the curtains open anymore, it just let the light in and the light showed the scars in the most painful of ways. It seemed to make her skin suddenly seem so pale and the red slashes so much brighter than she knew they actually were. It made them the most obvious part of her body.

It was late, she didn't need the curtains open to know that. She could hear the fluttering wings of the owls as they flew past her window and the quiet footsteps of the guards doing their rounds. She wasn't sure exactly how late it was but she didn't really care, choosing to pick up a piece of paper, light a candle and write a note to Azriel.

He replied instantly.

I can't sleep. ~ Am

Nightmares again? ~ Az

More like trying not to sleep because of the nightmares. Everything just feels kind of suffocating right now. You think you can get Rhys to force me to follow this bargain? Because we both know that I am never going to be able to leave any other way.

I can't promise anything, Amara, you know that. Besides, everyone is going through the aftermath of this. You can't be a baby and run away from it. You can't just run to a different court and ignore your brother for two months straight just to feel like everything is okay. Just suck it up like the rest of us.

Amara didn't respond to that. She burnt the paper with the candle on her bedside table, tears silently falling down her face. Out of everybody in her life, he was the one that she'd wanted to be able to confide in the most.

Now she didn't even have that.

Maybe she just shouldn't have bothered with trying to talk to him about it. She shouldn't have bothered trying with anyone, she had already known that. That was why she hadn't reached out to anyone about how she was feeling until just now.

Now she just felt even more alone than ever.