Parts of this are taken directly from the book

Isabella

The mortal queens were a mixture of age, colouring, height, and temperament. The eldest of them, clad in an embroidered wool dress of the deepest blue, was brown-skinned, her eyes sharp and cold, and unbent despite the heavy wrinkles carved into her face. She would be the one to watch out for, the conniving snake. Isabella had seen that cunning look before, in Mr Mandray's eyes.

The two who appeared missile-aged were polar opposites: one dark, one light; one sweet-faced, one hewn from granite; one smiling and one frowning. They even wore gowns of black and white. Twins. Isabella almost smiled at the thought, the link between the pair and the bond they no doubt shared. They were separate rulers of course, and Isabella wondered what their kingdoms were like, what relations they had if they wore matching silver rings.

It was the youngest two queens that had me pausing. They looked to be about her age and that was the scariest part. Here she was married, to a questionable man, befriending fae males and raising a half-fae son. Their black hair and black eyes, careful cunning oozing from every pore as they surveyed us.

It was how cruel they looked. How could someone her age rule kingdoms and lead armies. Perhaps that's why they look so beady eyed and dead.

The final queen, the one who spoke first, was the most conventionally beautiful - the only beautiful one of them. She didn't trust that. The others were weather worn, carved and built by life's lessons. This woman used her beauty first, there was a different kind tactic used there.

Because those other women, despite their finery, did not care if they were young or old, fat or thin, short or tall. Those things were secondary; those things were a slight of hand.

But this one, this beautiful vain monstrosity that was no older than thirty ....

Oh she was fierce. She wore her beauty like amour, flaunted it and abused it. Her riotously curly hair was as golden as Morrigan's, her eyes of purest amber. Even her brown, freckled skin seemed dusted with gold. For a moment Isabella was reminded of her own son. Of the tan bronze skin that enchanted ring helped glamour. Her body was supple where she'd probably learned men found it distracting, lithe where it showed grace.

A lion in human flesh.

"Well met," Rhysand said, remaining still as their stone-faced guards scanned us, the room. As the queens took our measure. Isabella did her best to ignore the distance between Feyre and Rhys, hoping that the Queens wouldn't pick up on the distance. It would be an unlikely fact considering Rhys apparently wrote about a human friend according to Cassian.

Rhys stepped forward. The queens all sucked in a little breath and some savage part of Isabella twisted and snarled in glee as they braced themselves. Their guards casually, absolutely foolishly, rested a hand on the hilt of their blades - a broadsword she would guess from Cassian's various descriptions. As if they would stand against any of Feyre's family, against Feyre she realised with a start.

But it was Cassian and Azriel who would play the role of guards today - rugged, chiselled distractions made of pure iron will.

Isabella would be lying if she said their protective nature didn't stir old feelings. Old desires.

Rhys bowed his head slightly, the only concession he would make for the sake of respect, "We are grateful you accepted our invitation." He lifted a brow. "Where is the sixth?"

The ancient queen shuffled her gown, folding her hands over the rich blue. "She is unwell, and could not make the journey." Well that sounds like a lie but she had already turned to assess Isabella's sister. "You must be the emissary."

Her sister looked like a child before her. Her feeble diadem of crown no more than a bauble beneath the eldest queen's gaze. "Yes, I am fey-"

"And you must the woman the High Lord wrote such an interesting letter about after the first few were dispatched." Feyre stiffened at the insult, the power move she was unable to hinder but it was Rhys who had gone carefully still.

Isabella didn't dare look at him. She had delivered many letters by now and when Cassian had hinted at the contents of the letter included a personal relation with a human she had just assumed it would be Feyre.

Though she was flattered and in a way it made sense. Feyre had been reluctant to talk of the human realm, she had no fondness for her heritage. But Isabella is human, her son is half human - not that the queens would know otherwise.

The queen is still staring at her so she straightens her spine, pretending that her lack of response was a power move. On silent feet Isabella stalks forwarding, holding the Queen's gaze until she scans the others' curious faces. So they had all heard about her. She pretended not to feel Cassian's gaze boring into her back.

This hadn't been a part of their plan. They had discussed it over the dishes he brought as an apology for upsetting her. She was to remain with her sister, sequestered by the open window that was conveniently left unlocked for them to quite literally jump out of should things go sideways.

"I am honoured that you recognise me." Her voice is silken, her movements precise and controlled as she comes to stand with Rhys who is now flanked by two Archeron sisters. "As you are aware this is the High Lord of the Night Court," No name, he was a figurehead, an entire nation, "but may I introduce his cousin, Morrigan."

Mor stalks forward, not faltering at the change of plan. Her crimson gown flows on a phantom wind and the golden queen sizes her up with each step, each breath. A threat- for beauty and power and dominance. Yet Isabella found that same queen eyeing her up, as though she were a real threat to them and for the first time Isabella considered that she could be.

"It has been a long time since I met with a mortal queen."

The black-clad queen placed a moon-white hand on her lower bodice. "Morrigan- the Morrigan from the War." They all paused as if in surprise. And a bit of awe and fear. Isabella had paused too, she had forgotten how ancient her sister's friends were. Mor Bowed again. "Please- sit."

She gestured to the chairs we'd laid out a comfortable distance from each other, all far enough apart that the guards could flank the queens as they saw fit.

Almost as one, the queens sat. Their guards, however, remind at their posts around the room.

"And you are our host?" The gold queen had directed her question to Isabella, smoothing out her voluminous skirts as she pointedly glanced at Isabella's sisters.

"My sisters." I clarify, gesturing to them as Elain bobs a curtsy, flushing rose pink. Nesta had gone straight-backed, staring down the queen. Isabella didn't know why she had expected anything less.

It was strange, being sat by Rhys' side. Especially considering Feyre was on his right closer to Morrigan and Azriel whereas Isabella was caught between the fae and her twin. She dreaded to think what the Queens saw this as.

"A human turned High Fae... and who is now standing beside a High Lord at a place of honour. Yet we were told that it is the still human sister who is advocating for our mercy."

Mercy.

They have no intention of helping us.

I kept my shoulders back, picturing Cassian who had walked me over from the Mandrays'. He had been explaining how Rhys and Morrigan would be feeling out the Queens, analysing them as opponents on a battlefield. It had made her almost sad for him - Cassian she means. It was so clear from the doubt in his voice that he didn't trust his political abilities yet he was more capable than most. Certainly more capable than Feyre who looked to be on the verge of a panic attack.

The eldest declared to Rhys, "You have an hour of our time. Make it count."

Indeed, what were the Queen's words but the opening movements in another sort of battle?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･

Isabella had zoned out during the discussion, their words drifting over her as she made no effort to defend or attack. The Queens had made their choice, there was nothing anyone could do to change it now. That is the curse of stubborn old tyrants.

She needs to think of Oliver now. Of how to protect him. He is Fae which means he stands a better chance of surviving the hardships of war but his half-fae, half-human status could be his downfall if he entered Prythian.

Unless Cassian looked after him, a small voice whispered and Isabella paused in thought, Azriel maybe, he dotes on the boy.

No. It was foolish, she decided. She wouldn't just abandon her son in an unfamiliar land where she could not follow. And what was she thinking? Leaving Tomas? But...

But she was tired.

And she had seen the look on Grandfather Mandray's face when he looked at Oliver. It had her trembling with fear. Sometimes she thought that he doted on her son, loving and cradling him in his arms. Then she would see the disgust and hatred in his eyes.

He might be older than Tomas and his father but all three of them had married young and worked well. They were still strong. If the old man decided to hurt Ollie... Isabella fought the urge to shake her head at the thought.

War, the Mandrays and now these petulant Queens. It was clear they weren't going to spare the troops. She didn't blame them from a tactical sense, sacrifice a few to save the many except... Except when she and Cassian had been talking over the Illyrian dishes he had shared some of his work, spoke about a few battle tactics that interested him and Isabella could have sworn that one of them was picking a place to make a stand.

Wouldn't this slip of land make sense? Close enough to the human realm to support and move troops to but there was still the sea to contend with before enemy troops would make it into the human realm.

Not to mention the wall would work in their favour here. So why were they yielding so quickly?

It didn't matter, not really. Isabella's priority was her sisters and her son. And Olvier would always come first. She would discuss it with Cassian then. Maybe the High Lord would allow her to visit, to see where Oliver would stay should one of them decide to take him in.

Isabella only came out from her daze when Nesta hissed "We have servants here. With families. There are children in these lands. And you mean to leave us all in the hands of the Fae?"

The eldest one's face softened. "It is no easy choice, girl-"

"It is the choice of cowards." Isabella intoned, face stoic and devoid of any sympathy.

"So she speaks." One of them drawlled but Isabella no longer cared enough to keep track of names. "I thought you might have gone mute."

"And here I was praying you would do the same." Isabella countered with a smirk. She had to be careful, she had to play this right. Oliver needed this. She ignored Rhys' sharp glare, ignored Cassian's gaze boring into her back and she most definitely ignored Feyre's reprimand of her name. "For all our kind hates theirs you would leave us at their mercy? Forsake us to war and ruin."

"Should fae blood-"

"Enough about Blood, it is irrelevant here." The guards had stepped forward at her interruption though they paled and the wisest among them stepped back at Cassian's low snarl. "What happens once you concede here, hmm? For starters I can't imagine that your people would appreciate finding out their Queens had abandoned them... that might cause fear in the masses over sea. Their oh so powerful leaders standing idly by as human citizens are slaughtered." The eldest's face soured. "Of course none of that would matter considering the entirety of the human will most likely be enslaved should Hybern succeed."

"Should Fae blood not be spilled for their crimes over the years? Should they not defend against a threat of their own making?" The golden queen was adamant on ignoring Isabella's point but she could see the others falter, hesitate, as they considered Isabella's words.

"Neither side is innocent," Rhys countered calmly, "But we might protect those who are. Together."

"Pretty words from one such as you." Isabella froze at the woman's sneer, something cold and wrathful filling her veins at the disgust in her eyes. "The famed High Lord of the Night Court is here to save lives... to fight for peace. Funny that you should be the one advocating against Hybern considering your past. What of the lives you have taken? How long have you lived exactly, how many people have suffered under your long and hideous reign? What of the High Lord who walks with darkness in his wake and shatters minds as he sees fit?"

A shiver crawled down Isabella's spine. For the first time since their original meeting Isabella doubts the male beside her. Hundreds of years was a long time to live without committing any crime but punishment and torture for sport? Nausea bubbled in her stomach, reminders of a man miles away coming to the surface.

"We have heard of you, even on the continent, Rhysand." A crow's laugh. "We have heard of what the Night Court does, what you do to your enemies. Peace? You do not know the meaning of the word."

Wrath began simmering in my veins, born of humiliation and fear. How could she have been so stupid to have been blinded by their handsome looks and pretty smiles. Though a part of her had bristled at the queen's words. They were still a united front after all.

Though the roaring in her ears came to a stumbling halt when the Queen demanded, "and you. Calling yourself a loving mother when you allow these creatures to be around your child?"

How the fuck do they know about Oliver.

A/N: Hi guys, exam season has started so I am aiming to post every Saturday but please be patient if that is not the case.