Isabella

Oliver was stomping behind her, each footfall heavy with irritation and disappointment. Bat-Bat has been forgotten at home and it was the worst thing to happen ever. According to her son at least, who had cried his eyes out when Isabella had told him they were too far away to turn back home for the battered toy.

She tried not to glare at her son, it wasn't his fault for not understanding but she'd been getting little sleep and the winter months were harsh on them. Food was getting scarce so the Mandrays had already begun rationing and Isabella always gave part of her portion to Oliver.

Tomas had already taken their horse and cart down to the village. They sold wood openly in the market on Tuesdays and Saturdays instead of delivering crates to doors and Isabella was walking down with lunch. It was something to do, to keep busy and get Oliver out of the house.

It didn't hurt that Tomas appreciated the extra care and effort of a hand delivered lunch and she would need all the allowance she could get today. A reminder of the cramps in her stomach had Isabella stiffening. Her cycle had been uncomfortable before but since her pregnancy it hurt a whole lot more. Not to mention the actual amount she bled was ridiculous now. Logically she understood that it was her body learning from last time and preparing for a better pregnancy but it sometimes felt like some god was laughing down at her everytime she had to sacrifice more sheets and clothing when their supplies were already scarce.

Mrs Mandray had been a life saver. She was disappointed by the lack of a baby but that was more out of fear than any real judgement of Isabella. The older woman had appeared by her side early in the morning with a cup of tea and a smooth rock heated in a pan of water for her to wrap in a scarf and use for heat. Isabella had almost cried when Mrs Mandray had taken over her chores, cleaning the bedding and setting about making food even though she could see how the extra strain had her hobbling around in pain.

It was more than her own mother had ever done for her.

So Isabella had volunteered to take lunch down when that was usually her mother in laws job. The exercise was helping with the cramps and she'd have to pluck up her courage to tell Tomas of her most recent failure.

"Mummy, is that Aunt Fey's friend." Oliver tugged at her sleeve, pointing down the road to a cloaked figure staring at the wreckage of the Beddor house. The figure had no wings but even Isabella could feel the otherworldly presence about the man- male.

Her son had slowly begun tottering ahead even as she slowed down. The male in question had offered the boy a polite wave when he jumped excitedly and waved his hands for attention. It wasn't Azriel or Cassian with glamoured wings then. Oliver would have already been in their arms chattering away if it was them which meant-

"Afternoon, Mrs Mandray." Something tightened in the High Lord's jaw when he said her name, a flash of irritation in his eyes that was gone in a second. Isabella bobbed her head slightly, "High Lord."

"Rhys, please. There's no need to be so formal."

There quite possibly was since the last time she saw the male was when she and her twin were interrogating him over his intentions regarding Feyre. But Isabella didn't have Nesta here now but her small, very human son so she just nodded with a forced smile.

The High- Rhys, seemed to understand her hesitation. He had turned back to the ruins of the Beddor House, gaze tracking Ollie's movements as he wandered closer to charred remains.

"Did you know them?"

"Briefly."

He nodded slightly and in this light there was something pale and sallow about his skin. Perhaps the rumours were right then and the Beddors were murdered by fae. Of course it was only the outer villages that talked of that, everyone here kept their heads down.

"How's my sister?" Except it seemed that Isabella's safe topic of conversation was actually a trigger for Rhys' shoulders seemed to sag. "She's certainly an Archeron."

"We're our own breed." She shrugged, watching her son explore the stone walls.

"Is it safe for..." He waves at the makeshift play ground before them and Isabella nods, murmuring a quick mm-hm. "Builds character."

"What about rusty nails and-"

"Oliver." Isabella called, quickly changing her mind. "Come away from the ruins sweetie."

The boy huffed, clearly irritated that he was being denied something a second time in the day. One foot stomp later and her son was running further into the ruins. She was really starting to question how he could be an angel one second and then a literal demon of hell at others.

"Why would you mention the nails?" She whined, feeling guilty that she had just assumed it would be rock walls and the occasional wood beam. The whole place had been picked over by scavengers and there had been enough storms that any part of the house capable of collapsing had done so already.

Rhys winced, "I thought I was being helpful."

"Well now I feel guilty for all the times he runs off to play here on the walk over."

"If it makes you feel better I played in much worse places as a kid, so did Cassian."

"You have fae healing." She didn't comment on his sudden mention of the General but something in his tone had her pausing at the inclusion. "Since you helped make this mess, help me grab him."

"How did I contribute to this?" He exclaims but follows after her into the rubble. Rhys seemed worse now they had stepped closer. There were no walls or ceilings left, only hip high stone walls and charred wood on the floor. "You didn't but I couldn't bear to watch you master up the courage to enter on your own any longer."

She glances over only to find him giving her a surprised and shameful look.

"So I guessed right then." Isabella states, mostly to herself. "What did you do then?"

"Gave Clare's name instead of Feyre's." He sounds so defeated that Isabella sighs and pauses her fake search. She already knew that Ollie had run out the overside of the ruins to play in the grass. Even in a huff he would still listen to her. "So this house could have been our cottage."

Rhys continues to look at her, gaze unreadable now as she observes the wreckage in a new light.

"I was visiting Nes that day." She begins, thinking on her feet. "I remember because we could see the smoke and flames from the window. My mother in law had made some pies for me to take over so I took Oliver with me." The addition of her son to the tale was probably morally wrong but she could see the hesitation and regret in the male's eyes. She scoffs slightly, forcing a few tears to her eyes to match her story "Never thought I could have lost my whole world in one night."

The wind and birds are the only sound for some time. Eventually both she and Rhys perch on the edge of a stonewall. She doesn't know how long they sit there, just letting Rhys think as they watch Oliver stomp in frozen puddles out back.

"Thank you." She murmurs, eyeing her son even as she thinks of Feyre. "For keeping my family safe."

"I condemned the Beddor's," Rhys said, voice hoarse. "There were other ways. I hadn't realised they were actual people. I thought Feyre gave me a fake name."

"Don't try to shift or claim blame, Rhys." She glances at him from the corner of her eye. "The only one to blame was that Queen. You made the only decision you felt you could at that moment."

"Did I?"

"You can't change it now." She states more firmly, realising he just needs someone to make a decision and get rid of the doubt. "Which means you need to find a way to live with it and move on."

When Rhys remains silent she rises to her feet, calling for her son. She ignores the male when he joins her on the long walk to the main village, letting him think through her words and take his own interpretations. Oliver fills the silence with meaningless questions, asking about lunch, why we ate three times. Why couldn't he eat all three meals at the start of the day.

Rhys seemed to come back to himself when Oliver grew tired of asking about snow and frost and why the animals' fur turned white in winter. The village was now insight, so was the wood cart at the edge of the market. Oliver too seemed to spot his father and raced ahead while Isabella paused and turned to male beside her.

He must have been glamoured for she could see a shimmer presence clinging to his form. It was clear Rhys expected her to see through it for he offered her a crooked smile.

"Shall I wait to walk you back?" He offered and she could see the desperation in his eyes.

"That would be lovely." Isabella agreed, remembering the days where silence and isolation felt like a death sentence. "Have you found the answers you were looking for ?"

He doesn't bother to play coy or strong, only looking away to where Oliver's tiny form was racing down the hill.

"I think so... Or at least I have a better understanding of how to find the solution."

"I'm glad." And she was, he had saved her sisters' lives. It was a dog eat dog world here and if another had to die for hers to live then so be it. She had never claimed to be perfected or all caring, you save who you can when you can. "I need to run a few errands to outer houses on the way back, will that be okay?"

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Rhys

He followed her down to the market. Observing the way Oliver flittered about Mr Mandray until he quickly grew disheartened by the male's lack of interest. In fact, it seemed that Tomas Mandray only cared for the boy when Isabella was looking.

Something in his heart thrummed with sadness at the sight. Isabella was so pleased and happy when her husband and son got on, he could see the doubt and worry practically lift from her shoulders whenever Tomas showed the boy an ounce of care. Yet it was clearly all an act to keep a complacent happy wife.

Rhys thinks that might have upset him more. The way Isabella easily adapted to different roles, the doting mother, the caring wife and the generous healer. It had been somewhat of a surprise to see her searching for the homeless and injured after handing over her husband's lunch. Lunch which he hadn't accepted with a thank you but an uncomfortable possessive kiss and hug that Isabella seemed to like for a moment before frowning when she turned away.

It was clear she was conflicted about her husband.

Oliver stayed with the man and Rhys fought the urge to stay with him, to watch over the boy with the clearly untrustworthy human. He tried to tell himself not to judge. That was Isabella's husband who had helped to raise Oliver for four years but it was a tough argument to make when the man's gaze would drift to the passing women.

Instead he followed Mrs Mandray around the ramshackle village. She was a caring person at heart, it was clear in the way she exaggerated and emphasised part of her story to make him feel better, in the way she cared for her family and it was certainly obvious from the cuts and scrapes she was bandaging.

He recognised some of the tin labels from Velaris shops when she brought out salve or tonics to offer people. Some paid her back in food, the odd coin. Others offered favours and promises to find plants from the forest or bring her animal pelts later. Isabella never hesitated to offer help even when they had nothing to give in return.

At least he had his answer as to why she was helping them with the Queen. Helping them deliver messages and answering questions about human etiquette and providing her sisters' home without a fight.

She was a good person.

Shame curled in Rhys' gut for ever thinking otherwise.

It was only once she was walking out the other side of the village that Rhys dropped his glamour. Isabella made no indication of surprise, only offering him a soft smile in greeting and he was left wondering if she could see him the whole time. Perhaps it was just a sixth sense, or maybe she didn't see glamours at all.

"You never answered my question." He shoots her a confused look. "About my sister."

"Ah." Isabella arches her brow at him and he winces. "I thought I had."

"A nondescript answer about her being an Archeron is not an answer."

"We had an argument."

"Well I gathered that from the Archeron statement."

"So why did you ask again?" He exclaimed nostrils flaring in frustration while Isabella only stared back at him unimpressed. "Because I would like more than just 'wE hAd a FiGht'."

"I don't sound like that."

"Yes you do."

A/N: Rhys starting to bond with mate