𝐂 𝐎 𝐒 𝐌 𝐈 𝐂   𝐋 𝐎 𝐕 𝐄   !

𝙲 𝙷 𝙰 𝙿 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁   𝙴 𝙸 𝙶 𝙷 𝚃   !

( 𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔩𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔰 𝔞𝔱 𝔣𝔩𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ! )

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

          "𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆?" Ana didn't jump at Feyre's voice, instead holding a finger to her lips as a sign to be quiet. She was leaning against the doors that led to the dining room, listening in on Lucien and Tamlin's conversation. She'd overheard their voices while on her way to the library, and the curiosity had been too strong to ignore. 

"I just want to know what you think you're doing," Lucien said, Feyre leaning in to listen as well.

"What are you doing?" Tamlin snapped, and Ana had to place a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. Through the crack in the doors, she could see Tamlin's hands⎯one bandaged while the other had claws. Someone was grumpy.

"Me?" Lucien put a hand on his chest. "By the Cauldron, Tam⎯there isn't much time, and you're just sulking and glowering. You're not even trying to fake it anymore."

Fake what, exactly? 

Tamlin turned away but whirled back a moment later. "It was a mistake from the start. I can't stomach it, not after what my father did to their kind, to their lands. I won't follow in his footsteps⎯won't be that sort of person. So back off."

"Back off? Back off while you seal our fates and ruin everything? I stayed with you out of hope, not to watch you stumble. For someone with a heart of stone, yours is certainly soft these days. The Bogge was on our lands⎯the Bogge, Tamlin! The barriers between courts have vanished, and even our woods are teeming with filth like the puca. Are you just going to start living out there, slaughtering every bit of vermin that slinks in?"

Ana may not have known entirely what this was all about, but she had to agree with Lucien. Tamlin's plan seemed horrid. 

"Watch your mouth," Tamlin said.

Lucien stepped toward him, exposing his teeth. Magic stung in the air.

"Don't push me, Lucien," Tamlin said, his tone dangerously quiet. "You think I don't know what's happening on my own lands? What I've got to lose? What's lost already?"

Her mind reeled with thoughts. They had to be talking about Amarantha. Specifically the deal that Tamlin had with her. The Seven-Times-Seven bargain that was responsible for the masks being stuck on the faces of the Fae. The deal that Tamlin had to make a mortal fall for him. Feyre. And while Lucien seemed desperate, Tamlin seemed angered at the topic of the deal. Like he didn't want to go through with it. 

That didn't stop Ana from feeling icy rage at the thought of Feyre getting tricked into loving Tamlin. No one⎯Fae or mortal⎯deserved that.

Just then, Feyre leaned forward, her finger slipping and hitting the door softly. Ana stiffened, internally groaning when she heard the conversation inside stop. She quickly composed herself, slapped on a smile, and pushed the door open to reveal Tamlin and Lucien already looking her way. Feyre stood behind the blonde, sheepishly smiling.

"Are you going out for a ride?" Feyre asked, directing the question toward a surprised-looking Lucien.

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave her in return didn't match. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin, and Ana felt her skin bristle. "He'll go with you."

Tamlin shot Lucien a look of disdain. He then met Feyre's surprised gaze. "Whenever you want to go, just say so."

Ana could see the panic in Feyre's eyes⎯she didn't want to be left alone with Tamlin. The blonde's mind kicked into overdrive. She promised Feyre that she would help her, and even though Ana didn't want to spend much time with Tamlin after her most recent discoveries, she found herself speaking up, "How about a tour of the estate?"

Feyre's shoulders slumped with relief. "Yes. I don't want to go for a hunt. I hate hunting. A tour of the estate sounds lovely."

Tamlin looked confused, and Ana did her best to hide her smile. "So, Tamlin, would you mind showing us two ladies around? You can so no, of course. We won't take offense to that." She'd prefer if he said no. "I mean, if it's a bother, Feyre and I can find other ways to occupy our eternal stay here."

That seemed to snap him out of his confusion. "Come with me." He quickly led the way out of the dining room, Lucien sending Ana a wink as the two women followed in pursuit. Ana returned the gesture with a scowl and a finger, leaving him laughing in her wake. After a moment of silence, Tamlin spoke again. "You've been going for hunts, but you really don't have any interest in hunting. No wonder you two never catch anything."

It was aimed toward Feyre, so Ana let her mind travel elsewhere. It wasn't like she wanted to be stuck on a tour of the estate with the High Lord of the Spring Court. She'd only come along and offered up the idea to ease Feyre's worries. She didn't have to actually pay attention to anything. As long as Ana was by Feyre's side, she was keeping her promise. 

Instead, her mind drifted toward a certain High Lord that currently resided in enemy hands. It'd been two days since she'd last spoken to him⎯when he'd revealed the truth behind everything going on in Prythian and the deal with Tamlin. She hoped to see him again sometime soon. His presence alone was enough to remind Ana of what life was like back in her world. Or . . . the other world. The one where her old friends and Parabatai remained. She appreciated the feeling.

Missing me already, darling?

Ana nearly shit herself in surprise and fear. She looked around, but there was no sign of the violet-eyed Fae. His voice had appeared in her mind, as if just thinking about him caught his attention. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him being able to hear her thoughts. She'd have to ask him next time she saw him.

It's okay to miss me, darling. I am, after all, quite the charismatic being.

The blonde rolled her eyes, stifling a laugh. Either she was hallucinating, or this was actually happening. Maybe . . . maybe it was all because of the bond that the Suriel had mentioned?

And the most egotistical being, as well, she thought, testing to see if her earlier assumptions were correct.

She could hear his laughter. The noise made goosebumps appear on her skin. Such rude things to say to someone with a pretty face.

Another roll of her eyes. Keep thinking like that and that face won't be pretty much longer. His deep chuckle reverberated in her head. Let me guess . . . this mind-linking shit has something to do with our bond? The same bond that lets us see each other?

Have I ever told you how smart you are? 

Ana smirked. Yes, but I don't mind hearing it.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as a set of large, oaken doors were flung open, revealing the study that she'd been in days before. Tamlin waved his hand and the candles that outlined the walls flickered to life, Feyre's face falling into a look of awe. 

"Do you need anything else?" Tamlin asked.

Feyre shook her head. "No," she said, walking further into the study.

Ana followed, leaving Tamlin at the doorway. 

"I'll leave you to it, then," he said before closing the doors behind him and leaving. 

Feyre turned to Ana. "I need your help writing a letter to my family. I need to tell them everything."

Ana nodded in understanding. "Time to continue your lessons in reading and writing, then. Follow me."

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

After a quick break for dinner, the two females found themselves back in the study, continuing on with their lessons. 

"'She grab-bed . . . grabbed her shoe, sta . . . nd . . . standing from her pos . . . po . . .'" Feyre sat back in her chair and pressed her hands to her eyes. Ana gave her a supportive smile as she underlined the word: position.

Ana had once taught reading and writing to Nadia. Of course, she'd been teaching Russian since Nadia was originally from Egypt, taken to Russia once Viktor found out about her. Ana knew how to teach a beginner⎯how to be slow and understanding and supportive. To not get frustrated when they take a longer time to understand. She was using the same method she had on Nadia for Feyre.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Try writing it down. You know the sounds the letters make, it's just putting them together that is difficult for you. You'll get there. I know it."

Feyre nodded and wrote the word on the ever-growing list. There were at least forty words on it, their letters malformed and barely legible due to being a beginner at writing them. 

Feyre set the quill down and sighed, standing up. "How are you so calm with me? I must be frustrating you with how slow I am."

Ana shook her head. "I once taught Russian to a girl who only understood Egyptian Arabic, or Masri. This is nothing, okay? I know you will understand it soon. You're a smart and resourceful girl, Feyre. You can do this."

The girl smiled in thanks at Ana, who returned it whole heartedly. Ana went to tell Feyre to continue, only for her eyes to land on something painted across the far wall, slightly hidden by shelves of books. Intrigued, the blonde stood from her spot at the desk and made her way over to the painting, Feyre following curiously.

When she was close enough, she noticed that it wasn't a painting, but a mural. 

It was huge, stretching across the expanse of the wall. A story painted on plaster, made up of an array of bright and beautiful colors. The story of . . . Prythian.

The first painting was of a large black cauldron. That must be the cauldron they refer to when they say "by the cauldron."

The black cauldron was held by a set of slender, glowing female hands in a background of starry, endless night. It was being tipped over, golden effervescent liquid pouring over the lip, symbols glittering inside. The liquid fell into the void below, pooling on the earth to form this world . . .

The map spanned the entirety of their world⎯not just focusing on Prythian, but also the mortal lands beyond. Each territory was marked and colored, some with intricate, ornate depictions of the beings who had once ruled over lands that now belonged to the humans. So it seemed that at some point in the history of this world, the Fae had ruled over both sides. But there was a war that split them, freeing the mortals of the Fae rule. 

The next picture was a battlefield. Blood, bodies, and weapons gleamed in the smoke and turmoil, reminding Ana of a similar battlefield she'd once been in. A battlefield that she'd nearly died on. Humans and Fae fighting one another for freedom.

Another map was beside it, reduced only to Prythian. It showed the different courts that the North had been split into. Most of the Spring lands had been diminished to smaller parts of what they were now, giving the rest of that land to the humans. The wall was a dark, ugly smear⎯a spiteful touch provided by the artist.

The courts of Prythian had their own separate markers. Spring Court held roses and lambs on green lands. The other seasonal courts were easy to point out⎯Autumn, Summer, and Winter. Above them were two glowing courts: the Dawn and the Day. And above that, perched in a frozen mountainous spread of darkness and stars, the sprawling, massive territory of the Night Court. 

Rhysand's lands.

In the shadows, Ana could see little eyes and gleaming teeth. It was beautiful but dangerous. It reminded her of Izzy, her beautiful and lethal Parabatai. Ana made a mental note to mention Rhys's lands to him when she saw him again. Ask about them in hopes of grasping a better understanding. The more she knew about this world, the better she'd survive. 

At the center of the land, as if it were the core around which everything else had spread, or perhaps the place where the cauldron's liquid had first touched, was a small, snowy mountain range. From it arose a mammoth, solitary peak. Bald of snow, bald of life⎯as if the elements refused to touch it.

The Mountain in which Amarantha held court. The Mountain where Rhys and the rest of Prythian were trapped.

Feyre returned to the table, Ana following after her in hopes of clearing her head just a bit. She sat down and reached out to Rhys, wondering if she could start the conversation as well or if it was just something only Rhys could do.

Your Court is bigger than I originally thought, she said, smiling to herself. Magnus definitely would have turned that into a dirty joke by saying "that's not the only thing bigger than you thought." You'll have to tell me all about it sometime.

There was silence, and for a moment, Ana thought it was a lost cause. Then, his smooth and sultry voice filled her head. When we meet again, darling, I will tell you everything you wish to know.

"I could help you write to them, if that's why you're in here."

Ana's kindjals were in her hands in an instant, one blade flying toward the speaker. It embedded itself into Tamlin's arm, the blond Fae looking at it in surprise. His green eyes met hers, and Ana glared. "Fucking hell, Tamlin. I'd say sorry, but you deserve that for scaring the shit out of me."

Tamlin rolled his eyes and removed the kindjal, tossing it back to Ana who caught it effortlessly. He had a stack of books in his arms, and Ana immediately caught onto Feyre's panic as the girl said, "Help? You mean a faerie is passing up on the opportunity to mock an ignorant mortal?"

He set the books down on the table, his jaw tight. "Why should I mock you for a shortcoming that isn't your fault. Let me help you. I owe you for the hand."

Ana internally winced. Shortcoming was not the right word to use. She could tell it had pissed off Feyre by the way her eyes flared indignantly. Oh, boy.

"I'm fine," she said stiffly.

Tamlin perked a brow. "You think I've got nothing better to do with my time than come up with elaborate ways to humiliate you?" Feyre remained silent. "So you'll let Lucien take you on hunts and⎯"

"Lucien," Feyre interrupted, "doesn't pretend to be anything but what he is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

Ana watched them, her eyes going back and forth as though she were watching a tennis match. Insults being thrown back and forth. Ana expected she'd have to duck and cover soon enough to avoid getting involved.

"It means," Feyre said quietly, voice cold, "that I don't know you. I don't know who you are, or what you really are, or what you want."

"It means you don't trust me."

"How can I trust a faerie? Don't you delight in killing and tricking us?"

His snarl made the flames of the candles flicker. "You aren't what I had in mind for a human⎯believe me."

That set something off in Feyre, her shoulders growing stiff and her body rigid. Tamlin seemed to pick up on his mistake (for the first time) and he winced. He lifted a hand, as if to reach for her. "Feyre," he began.

But Feyre left, ignoring him the entire time.

Ana stood, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Um . . . okay, I'm gonna go." She started for the doors, pausing as she opened them. She turned back to see Tamlin sulking a bit. "For one, you need to up your flirting game if you're going to get her to fall in love with you. I don't support you using Feyre to break your stupid curse that you got yourself into, but for the sake of Prythian, do better." His eyes widened in surprise. "Also, never tell a lady she has a shortcoming. You're just asking to get slapped."

With that, she left the study, stomach growling in anticipation for some home cooked spaghetti. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𝐀 𝐔 𝐓 𝐇 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒   𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄   !

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Here is another chapter. Sorry I didn't get it out sooner, my sister was reading my copy of ACOTAR so I couldn't jot down the info. But this one is more of a filler chapter than anything because soon, we'll be getting to CALANMAI! 

Yeah, so any guesses why Rhys and Ana can talk to each other through their minds? Or why they can see each other in their dreams? All of this is connected to something you will find out, so don't stress too much. But I really can't wait for her and Rhys to finally meet during Calanmai, when she obviously disobeys Tamlin and goes searching for answers to the ritual and all that shit.

Please comment and vote!

Love you all!

~ a.h.