I had never seen Tarquin so differently – so filled with determination, passion. Maybe even madness. In truth, I had always underestimated him. I never thought he would even be alive long enough to create his first heir. But as I looked at him now, analyzing him, I could tell he had grown. There was no longer fear in his eyes or instability of his reign. His youth that had once been his biggest flaw but now seemed to be his greatest advantage. It had been a while since I had met a Lord who had dreamed so large, who dreams as wildly as I do, and now I knew how other Lords felt. Wary if not threatened. People who dream the most are the ones who become the most legendary lords. The feared.

"Under the Mountain has ate out your brain cells and you are now trying to fight a battle that no longer exists. Go home, my friend." I was about to turn away, but then he let out a mirthless laugh.

"I think you know I am right," Tarquin countered. "I think you know there's more threats and I think you wouldn't be at Tamlin's court if you believed that Feyre was safe here." My knuckles turned into firm balls and my nose flared when I turned my head towards him.

"I think that you're talking to the wrong person and if you walk away right now then I'll pretend this conversation never happened." Tarquin took a step towards me - a dangerous, dangerous step. My body straightened, looking down at him.

"Your reign has been short, Tarquin. You don't want to compromise that," I warned with a silky voice, my eyes blazing.

"It will be compromised anyways if our entire world falls apart," he said, and there was a part of me that grudgingly agreed. While he had only been alive for a little over half a century, I had been alive for a little over half of a millennium, and I knew that power was a disease. A lot of people craved it and very few could actually handle it. But it wasn't a war that I willing to fight right now.

"If you're going to put your energy into someone, don't put it into Tamlin," I advised, Hypbern burning into the back of my brain. "There are worse people."

"And, with Tamlin gone and Feyre to replace him will begin a new era," Tarquin said. I rolled my eyes dramatically. "An era of peace. Of strong, tranquil leaders who will make Prythian one." My eyes dragged towards the beautiful woman in the dark red dress, who now looked uncomfortable and out of place next to the people that called themselves members of the Spring Court. While she would no doubt be a queen of something one day, whether it was next year or in five hundred years, I couldn't see her ruling the Court of Spring.

Or maybe I could. Maybe I could see her conquering Tamlin, as he was no longer fit to be a High Lord. Maybe I could see her replacing every damn member of the Spring Court and revolutionizing it to the point where it made the continent whole. No matter how dull and absolutely boring this court was, it was still her home at one point. She still looked at these green grasses and wondered if she could ever be happy here again. She still had, even if it was only a little bit, longingness for what her life once was before Amarantha had ruined it. She was just about arrogant enough to pull it off.

"Maybe I'll consider speaking to her," I told Tarquin, though my voice drawled with empty promises. "If our beautiful savior ever shows any actual signs of true leadership. As of now, she is merely a cast of a girl who once was, slaving in our host's bed." And though it was simplified, maybe even a complete lie, Tarquin's face shattered for a moment. Just long enough for me to breathe. Because I didn't need this. I didn't need to worry about Tarquin infiltrating her thoughts right now. Not when Hypbern was lurking, Tamlin was causing problem after problem, and trying to tame the dangerous feelings I had for her. Not when we were all so vulnerable.

"But surely you saw how she handled Amarantha," Tarquin said, and I heard the desperation in his voice. "You were there-"

"And I no longer care," I hissed, shoving my cup of punch in his trembling hands as he blinked at me rapidly. "It was a pleasure seeing you, Tarquin."

~*~ discidium~*~

I took three or four laps around the ballroom before I felt Tarquin's gaze fall away from me. While I was flattered by Tarquin's desire to travel so far for me, I wasn't keen to stay in Tamlin's hellhole much longer. I was yet to run into Azriel and Mor, but I did see a number of familiar figures as I passed by – the High Lord of Winter, the Prince of Dawn, and a number of high ranked daughters hoping to finally be married off after fifty years of waiting. Why had Tamlin insisted on inviting every damn idiot in Prythian? I had no idea. But it was time for me to leave and to leave silently.

Of course, there was a few complications with this. Firstly, there was a how. From what I could see, there was one door for servants hidden in the opposite side of the ball room and the two double doors facing the crowd. Obviously, leaving from the two double doors was absolutely idiotic, unless I was willing to do one of my infamous exits. And while the servant's door seemed a little less chaotic, it was practically a trap. Not only were there at least forty servants on the opposite side but I was sure that there would be a few guards as well. I could winnow out of course, but I would have to put all my power into it. I could no longer hold the invisible barrier that I was keeping up in order for others to not see me while at the same time winnowing out. They would notice. Contrastingly, I could do the exact opposite. There was five windows – large with handles that could make them swing open. I could always maximize the barrier, make it so that nobody would even register what was going on behind them, open up one of the window doors, toss all of us out of it and then winnow back home. But there was always the question on how far I can take my powers, despite my legendary power. Was I capable to make over seven hundred people not look at an entire wall, nor pay attention to the sound of opening and shutting a large glass window? When you use that much power, there are always holes. It was almost too exhausting to risk.

Another issue was Feyre. She simply didn't want to leave and I couldn't force her. It was dangerous here, but she didn't seem to care. I didn't know what she wanted – revenge, closure, a new story to tell. And I doubted taking her back to my home would help her achieve any of those. I had watched with my own eyes as Tamlin broke her and while she seemed okay now, I knew it wouldn't last forever. And yet, there was a piece of my own selfishness. I was a being with feelings and thoughts and flaws just like any other being, and I didn't know how long I could watch her stay here. I didn't know how long I could look past my own feelings without simply losing it and taking her away.

"You're thinking." I turned my body fluidly, hiding the surprise that jolt through me. I faced Feyre – not even hiding the fact that I was looking at her body once more. She looked absolutely stunning, wearing that dark red dress like she was-

"A ruler," I finished aloud, a bad feeling overcoming me and a small groan leaving my lips. All I could think of was Tarquin's stupid smirk, gloating because how he was right. Because even now, everyone in the room could feel the abnormal strength that she bared. The power. It was infuriating, almost a threat. And yet she didn't even know it. Being Tamlin's wife would extinguish the fire that made her who she is.

She looked at me, blinking.

"What?" She demanded. A smile sprawled across my face, hiding the undying dread of what would soon to come.

"Normally, I'm dying to see what hides underneath your clothes," I said, eyeing her as her smile faltered, "But that dress is quite admiring. I wouldn't like you to ever take it off. Mostly because every Prythian keeps glancing at it like it's the most dangerous thing in the room. I must say, it's been a while since I've witnessed hundreds of people be fearful of a piece of cloth."

"I can't exactly thank you." She said sharply, her own eyes looking down at her gown again. "Everybody is looking at me like I'll burn down this entire estate. They look petrified." My eyebrows flickered up.

"It's because they are petrified," I said before I could even stop myself. "You look powerful in it. When you walk around with that gown twisting around you, you look like a queen. A queen who is willing to burn down this entire continent if they piss you off. Why else do you think that Tamlin has been looking at it in disgust?" She rolled her eyes at me dramatically.

"Maybe I should just take over this whole damn court then," she said, her voice more bitter than usual. "If I'm so powerful." My smirk faltered, my eyes twinkling.

"You could do it," I said seriously, my words echoing Tarquin's argument. "Be the ruler of the Spring Court. It wouldn't be that hard. My kingdom, my people, would support you." A spasm went across her face, her arms tightened around her chest even more.

"I don't want to be his Lady," she said under her breath. "I don't want to be anything to him."

"Oh, I didn't mean with him at all," I argued, "He would only bring you down. No, when I say you, I mean you." Her mouth opened immediately, choking. She shook her head fast.

"Take it over? Take over Tamlin's court?" She let out, her voiced hushed and her eyes darting around anxiously. "I'm starting to wonder if you're an arrogant ass or just a plain idiot." I let out a small chuckle.

"A dreamer," I corrected. "Not only that, but it would help me with the King Hypbern problem. Tamlin's court is filled with wondrous natural resources that I could use as bargaining chips and weapons, but he'll never let me use them. Not even if I begged."

"Maybe he has good reason to," she sneered, though it was half-heartedly. If anything, it sounded almost friendly.

"Anywho," my voice chimed, "What are you doing over here? Shouldn't you be wooing over leaders and being Tamlin's trophy? If you think being around me will win you popularity, you're wrong."

"Because you're an asshole or because you have zero social skills?"

I gave her a forced smile, showing my sharp teeth and said, "Because they think I kill for sport when really I kill so that I don't have to hear their pathetic whining."

"So both?" She concluded.

"More like a hundred-percent perfect," I said, but then I winked at her and added, "but only when I'm sitting next to you, Feyre-darling." She groaned.

"You're right. I'm better off talking to Ophelia about her fifteen marriage proposals," she grumbled, but I caught her arm before she could walk away.

"But don't you want to hear my plan, Feyre?" I asked, my eyes gleaming. Her body straightened, looking at me accusingly.

"What plan?" She said tightly. My smile widened.

"You see those windows," I said, eyeing them. Her eyes followed my gaze, her face twisted in confusion. "That's how we're going to get out." Her mouth turned into a perfect circle.

"Our way out? Don't you think hundreds of people will notice a gigantic window opening?" She snarled. I shrugged.

"Maybe, except close to no one has noticed me yet because I have my fabulous invisible barrier set up around me," I said to her, "But of course, you of all people would still think the most powerful High Lord to ever exist wouldn't be able to open a window without being caught."

"Then why don't you just go right now if you're so brilliant?"

"I will," I purred, "if only you're willing to come with me." Her face of shock transformed into a defensive glare.

"Oh, you're not going to kidnap me again?" She said, her voice filled with disbelief and a hint of anger. I rolled my eyes.

"That was a thing of my past," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I don't steal pretty girls anymore. I heard the whole rescuing them thing was more attractive." Her lips pursed.

"I don't need you to rescue me," she hissed. "I'm completely in control of my surroundings."

"Oh yeah," I said, giving a cold laugh. "Because you're gaining so much by staying here. Other than the fact that he's a complete douche, I can show you things that he hasn't even dreamed of. Different lands, different worlds. I won't make you be some pet at my court, I'll give you a position. Maybe even a pinch of power if you show your worth. Isn't that a bit more rewarding than whatever revenge you're plotting?" But her face didn't even twitch. I let out a sigh.

"Look, Feyre," I said, letting out a long breath, "You're immortal now. You have centuries, if not more, to get back at Tamlin. But why waste your time now? Come with me. Let yourself be happy." And for a second I think she considered it. Her glare loosened and her eyes were elsewhere, as if trying to be imagine such a life.

"But-"

"What can I do for you, Feyre?" I said, this time in desperation. "Tell me. Tell me what I can do to convince you." Her eyes, which were once darting around as she thought of the future, latched onto mine so hard that I felt a punch at my gut. The string that kept us together tugged at me, knocking the breath out of me.

"I need time," she said, her eyes hard. "Time, Rhysand. Give me time and maybe…maybe…" I was holding my breath, waiting for her last words.

"Maybe I'll consider it."

"As much as I admire your newly-found wits, we need to leave-"

"Get away from her." I swerved around, meeting eyes with Tamlin. His body had stiffened, the anger building clearly building inside him. His mouth was pressed together tightly and his nose was flared. I then suddenly noticed how utterly quiet the rest of the ballroom was. Slowly, my eyes hawked across the room, realizing that most of the people now had my attention. Lots and lots of eyes. So much for leaving silently.

"Great barrier you got there," I heard Feyre whisper to me sarcastically, nearly inaudible. "Most powerful High Lord indeed." I ignored her as I stuck my hands in my pockets, inching towards Tamlin.

"I told you that you weren't invited," Tamlin reminded me tightly. My smile grew.

"Unless you're still trying to pretend that Under the Mountain didn't happen," I said, and in my peripheral vision I noticed the entire crowd flinching at once, "It would have been wise to remember that I do love balls."

"You also love torture and cruelty," Tamlin said. "You're bound to my home but you're not bound to my friends and family." My eyes swept the ballroom again, watching as people's eyes shifted to the ground. He could hardly call them family, as they had clearly only come to spy on him.

"If you think a single one of these people have came here to revel in the Spring Court, you're out of your mind, Tamlin," I said. "When has a ball been anything but a political maneuver?" And within an instant, his eyes seemed very far away. And I knew what he was thinking about, what he was grasping for, what memory haunted us both.

The ball was a political nightmare. I knew that from the moment I stepped foot in my father's office, him demanding me to, instead of helping him fight his battles and assign me warrior-worthy duties, to plan a ball. It was no doubt a way to punish me, to mock me, but Celine was here. In the castle, as my mother was as well. The last thing I wanted him to do right now was for him to put me in Ultra-Time-Out and lock me in a cabin for a month (because Cauldron knows he's done it before) and make me miss out on seeing her. So instead of grunting about and putting the task onto a servant, I woke Celine up from her bed chambers and we planned the entire thing. She picked the colors, black and wine red. I began writing the guest list, which had consisted in just about everybody my father disliked. Celine warned me that it would piss him off, but he had already pissed me off and if he wanted to assign me duties for a servant than I would make his guest list a living hell.

Of course, I didn't realize that was what he wanted until the ball began two weeks later. He knew pissing me off would make me retaliate, whether passive aggressively or not. And not only that but on each invitation I signed it with my name instead of my father's, in attempt to look superior over my father but in the end only looked foolish. Was inviting every insane Son of Autumn really going to make me look bright? My father was nearly beaming over all of his enemies being in the same room. No doubt the only reason they came was because I, instead of my father, invited them. It was foolish. I was a fool.

"Celine, dance with me," I heard a voice say, only a good fifteen feet away from me. My head shot to the voice, eyeing the young man who had approached my little sister. She blushed horrendously, and though I was her older brother I couldn't help but smile. I hadn't seen her since she was a child but I wish I had watched her grow up. I was terrified that, even with my mother's protection, that my father would break her. She was still young of course, too young to be married off and used as a weapon to create alliances for my father, but she knew how to make her own choices.

"Of-of course," she stumbled, watching my eager expression and letting him pull her out on the dance floor. I watched them attentively as he carefully put his fingers on her hips and another intertwined with her hand. He looked terrified, probably even shakey, but I could see the respect in his eyes. She deserved that.

"Get out of my way!" I heard a voice growl. My eyes turned to my side, realizing I had blocked the entry door. The man had brushed against me, probably trying to be push me away far rougher than he actually had. He had barely shoved me an inch. My eyes lowered at him.

"Tamlin," I said slowly. "If you touch me one more time, intentionally or not, I will rip out your balls in front of every woman in this ballroom." He looked up at me quickly and at once I knew it was on purpose. I knew who Tamlin was looking at – Celine. It wasn't a secret that he had a bit of a crush on her, as I had invited him here a week early to keep me company. Of course, he wasn't anything compared to Cassian or Azriel but one of the conditions of my father's punishments was that I wasn't allowed to see Cassian or Azriel at all. It was probably his way of isolating me, so instead I invited his arch-enemy's son over.

"I don't care," he spat as he tried pushing past me again.

"Hey," I said, and it only took one finger on his shoulder to stop the young prince. "I hope you aren't thinking what I can hear you thinking, Tamlin."

"Get out of my way, Rhys," he growled as his fussed away from my grip, though his eyes were glued to the ground. "I don't want to…"

"Hurt me?" I chortled, a smile cracking. "Go back to the ballroom, you nymph-loving moron." But his eyes were filled with such coldness and anger that I couldn't yet contain.

"You know I like her," he said, pointing his finger at me. I let out a small chuckle, shrugging my shoulders.

"What am I supposed to do? Drag the poor lad by the leg and cut him up into tiny little pieces for nicely asking my sister to dance and then dancing with her modestly? Cauldron, Tamlin. I may be my father's son but I am not a psychotic maniac like one of the Autumn Boys. For instance, look at that red-headed git over there – Lucien, I think his name is. He's been glaring at me this entire night. You should go ask him to dance," I joked, eyeing the angry red head a few people away from us. But Tamlin didn't even crack a smile.

"But I want her," Tamlin said longingly, eyeing my beautiful sister. And she was certainly beautiful – she had long dark hair that curled at the ends and eyes as bright as the moon. If my father didn't marry her off soon she would probably cause wars over men wanting her hand.

"And who says she wants you?" I said back, my voice growing hard now. "You've hardly talked to her."

"I invited her to train with us."

"And she has said no every single time," I reminded him. "Celine already has a trainer and her own warriors, you know. My father lives for war and fighting, do you really think she doesn't know how to fight simply because she's a girl? Instead of demeaning her and asking if you can teach her to fight, realize that she can kick your ass easily and ask her for help. Or better yet – just ask her to dance."

"Okay," Tamlin breathed, calming down, but then he asked, "Rhys, you're her older brother. Do you think I have a chance?" I shrugged.

"To dance? Sure. As long as you don't step on her toes," I said. But he shook his head fast.

"My father, he's-he's thinking about finding someone to marry me," Tamlin said. I whirled fully to look at him, my eyes wide.

"Someone to marry you?" I said with a laugh, cracking up. "You're not asking me if Celine would-"

"No, no, of course not! But…but hypothetically," Tamlin said. My smile dropped.

"Celine won't be marrying anyone anytime soon," I told him sternly, my voice filled with defensiveness. "And if she does, it'll probably be an Illyarian for my mother's sake." But then I analyzed Tamlin. He was still developing, still had the uncontainable anger that any son of a High Lord had in their youth. I knew, despite my mother's approval, my father would want to use Celine as an alliance, but with whom? The Court of Spring did have unlimited resources and had recently flourished with their newly-found gem mines. Their forest was abundant and their economy was relatively stable. Unfortunately, even despite my father's dislike for the High Lord of Spring, it would be a good alliance.

"But hypothetically," I said, with a heavy sigh. "Do you intend on being High Lord?" Tamlin's face drained, eyeing his brothers from the other side of the room. They were taunting a young son of Dawn, tugging at him and tripping him.

"I-I," he said, watching his brothers, "I really hope not. I really hope I don't become a High Lord." I nodded slowly.

"Then maybe years from now, when you are an adult and she is a full woman, you'll have a chance," I said honestly. A light flickered in his eyes, happiness filling his face. I groaned aloud.

"Cauldron, I miss my Illyarian friends," I said, as the song that Celine and her mysterious dancer began to end. "You're so sensitive." But Tamlin was too busy watching as Celine walked away from the young boy to even hear my words. Quickly, he raced over, his mouth talking to Celine. Her body straightened, and though she wasn't blushing I saw a certain light in her eyes as well.

"You killed her," I said aloud, Tamlin in front of me again, but in the present. Feyre had her head tilted at me, her eyes a sea of wonder, but I didn't dare look at her. I held Tamlin's stare.

"You killed Celine," I said, my voice cold as ice, and he flinched just by her name. "Simply because you felt vulnerable and your father told you to. The woman you once insisted on marrying. You are weak, Tamlin. Weak and everyone here knows it. That's the only reason people are here. They are just waiting to laugh when your kingdom falls."

"Is that threat?" He let out. I laughed, my voice cold.

"No," I said. "That's an observation. A promise from every other kingdom out there. I got back at you when I made you the High Lord of Spring, Tamlin." I began to turn away, finally catching sight of Azriel and Mor. They were near the entry way both with an emotionless look on their face. I began strutting towards them, people parting away from me desperately as I walked. It wasn't till I was half way out did I notice that there was a struggle behind me. I turned my head over my shoulder.

Tamlin had Feyre by the arm, but she was trying to pull away.

"Get off of me!" Feyre growled, just as cool. He let her arm go as she strutted behind me, following me. But as she walked behind me, and I caught her eyes, I realized why she was following me. Because she had nowhere else to go.

~*~ discidium~*~

"Can I stay in your room?" It was the first thing Feyre had said to me once my friends and I began to walk up the stairs in silence. Mor and Azriel's eyes were on me, watching worriedly as I forced myself to take each and every step. I tried not to think about her – about Celine. If I kept thinking about her then I would probably walk right back into that ballroom and murder every last person in there.

"My room?" We were on the third landing and I had turned to look at Feyre again. She looked overwhelmed – maybe even scared.

"Yes, your room," she snapped. My eyebrows perked up.

"Unfortunately, Feyre-darling, I'm not in the mood for adult entertainment right now," I said. "Maybe lat-"

"I'll sleep on the floor," she said sharply. "I sleep in the goddamn bathtub! I don't care. Just don't…don't make me…" I blinked at her.

"I tried sleeping by myself last night but he beckoned me out of my bed," Feyre said, her eyes somehow still holding onto mine. "I don't want to go through it again." I looked at her up and down, at the broken look on her face. The way her cheek bones were still poking out of her skin and how her arms were abnormally thin.

"I don't like Tamlin's beds. They're made out of goose feathers. You can have the bed for however long you wish," I promised.

Thank you for all of the reviews! I'm sorry about the errors and I know it was a little dull, but if you want more please review! It's very helpful and very motivating! Constructive criticism is helpful as well!