THE GREAT PRETENDER ¬ ACOTAR

chapter i.

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CHAPTER I 

THE THIEF

[ tw: mentions of abuse ]

  THE NEWLY CROWNED HIGH LORD OF NIGHT sat on his throne, looking like there could be somewhere else he'd want to be. His eyes were on the figure being hauled in the room by Keir's men. Apparently, Keir had found the thief lurking around his office, where they had been stealing from for a few weeks now.

The thief was roughly pushed to their knees before the High Lord. Rhysand's gaze shifted to Keir, silently waiting for an explanation. The golden haired fae pulled the thief's hood down, showing off his work. She was beaten and bloody. One of her eyes was swollen shut and several bruises covered her face. Rhysand knew that under her green cloak there'd be more bruises on her skin. It sickened him that Keir never had respect for women, whether young or old.

Although despite being on the face of death, the thief held her chin up high. A mask, he realized. She made herself look brave. If Rhys didn't know better, he'd think she was a warrior. Albeit a skinny warrior. 

He could work with that.

"I caught this rat stealing from me," Rhys noticed how Keir said I as if he was the one who caught her in the act. The steward struck her face so suddenly, that she slammed to the ground. Slowly, she pushed herself off the floor and sat back up on her knees. Rhysand was impressed at how she projected this calm aura around her, like she wasn't fazed about what was going to happen to her.

"What do you have to say about that?" Rhys made himself sound bored. The thief only looked at him, saying nothing. Though she may look tough, there was a hint of fear in her eyes that she was trying so hard to keep in.

Keir struck her again, "Answer when you are being asked, girl!" This time, she spat out the blood that accumulated in her mouth, but some dripped down her chin. She didn't bother to wipe it down as she looked at Keir with such fire. "Are you mute? Speak!" He moved to strike her again but found himself unable to, so he turned to Rhysand who had a single finger raised.

"Leave us," he said, directing a pointed look at his uncle. Reluctantly, Keir left the room, scowling at Rhysand.

The high lord stood from his throne to walk closer to the thief, "Now that it's just us, answer the question."

He saw her gulp as he neared her. Rhys raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. Her jaw clenched before she spoke, "We were starving. I had no choice."

"Who's we?"

"Children, mothers, families, innocents. Keir doesn't care about us, no one does. All you care for are yourselves. While we, low people, live in constant fear and hunger, only waiting when we'll die. Some tried asking for help, but they somehow end up dead the next day. Nailed to the wall with their insides ripped out."

"I haven't heard about―"

"Of course you haven't," she blurted out, "You left Keir in charge while you're off living your best lives in your Court of Dreams."

Rhys recoiled at her honesty. Then almost immediately, she bowed her head, mistaking his shock with fury, "Forgive me, my lord. I spoke out of turn."

"Guards," he called out, his eyes never leaving her, "Take her to the dungeons. I'll have the shadowsinger deal with her."

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THE MOMENT RHYSAND GOT BACK TO VELARIS, he called for Azriel and they met at his office.

The spymaster stood in front of the obsidian desk, "Is there anything you need, my lord?"

"Few weeks ago," Rhysand remembered, "You said there was a thief in Hewn City. What else did you get from that?"

Azriel furrowed his brows, confused at the sudden interest about a petty thief, "Not much actually. Just that they steal and can easily slip in and out. No one also knows who they are since they wear a hooded cloak and a mask."

The high lord lightly scratches his chin, "You're in luck, we know now. One of Keir's men caught her earlier. Fiesty thing. We could use her."

"Can slip in and out without being detected," Azriel nodded, "That's a good quality."

"I know."

Azriel rolled his eyes at Rhys' smug tone.

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THE THIEF had her back against the damp walls of her cell when the shadowsinger entered her cell, but he wasn't alone. The high lord was also with him. Seeing the two together overwhelmed her. She couldn't help but tremble in fear for her life, "My lord, please forgive me. Have mercy, my lord, I beg of you. I–I have a brother, I'm all that he has." She kneels before him for the second time that day, "Please, my lord."

The shadowsinger grabs a fistful of her hair and forces her head up, pressing his infamous blade on her throat, "One wrong move and I'll slice your head clean off."

Tears fell down her cheeks as she softly said, "My brother, please. He doesn't have anyone else but me, my lord. Please." Then she felt talons pierce her mind, but it wasn't a forced entry. Almost like it was asking for permission.

Show me, he said, but his mouth never opened.

"I–I don't ―"

Show me, he repeated. Show me your suffering.

The thief took a deep breath. She showed him the times when they had nothing to eat, when the cold almost froze them to death, when killings were happening left and right, when women were taken and brought somewhere; she just showed him everything.

What you showed me, he said, still in her mind, was all of it true?

"Yes," she whispers, "All of it."

I'll try my best to improve―

"Don't try, do."

Rhysand meets the thief's gaze and he nods, adjusting his tunic and standing straight. He looks to Azriel and the shadowsinger releases the thief from his hold, making her slump to the ground.

The high lord turns to leave but pauses when he feels a soft grip on his sleeve. His shadowsinger moved to strike but Rhysand held his wrist back. "If anything happens to me, don't let Keir take my brother. Please, my lord," she said, peering up at him with her tearful eyes.

He says nothing as he and his shadowsinger winnowed away. 

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[ notes! ]

ah well,,,,,,

here it is :>

this is a long one phew

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