THE GREAT PRETENDER ¬ ACOTAR

chapter ii.

* 　　 · . 　 　　✺ 　　 ✧　. 　✵ * 　　* 　　 · . 　 　　✵ * 　　　　 ✫ * 　 . 　　· ⊹ 　 ✺ . 　 ✧　　　 ✦ ✫ 　 . ✫ * . 　　　　　 　 　　 · 　 ⊹ 　 ✺ . 　　　 ✧　.　 ✦ ✫ 　 . .

CHAPTER II

STRANGER DANGER

IT'S BEEN A DAY since the High Lord and his shadowsinger paid her a visit. She was given some food, but it was only enough to keep herself alive. The cloak she wore was doing little to help with the cold. She tried planning her escape but she couldn't find the right opportunity to do so.

Her eyes were just about to droop shut when she felt familiar small arms wrap around her. She was shocked seeing her brother there, she didn't even hear the doors open.

"Cal," the boy cried against her shoulder. The thief melted in his embrace, but pulled away quickly, panicking, "What are you doing here, Vik? You're not supposed to be here."

She ran a hand through his soft yet tangled hair, brushing off some that covered his eyes. He needed a fresh cut. Maybe, if she gets out of here alive she'd be able to do it herself. "The big man told me you needed help," the young boy pointed at the corner where the thief saw the shadowsinger mingling with the shadows. She sighs, "We talked about this before, my boy. Don't talk to strangers, right?"

"But they hurt you, Cal," his small fingers gently traced the healing bruises on her face. Despite the soreness, she smiled and tapped his nose, "Nothing I can't handle, Vik."

Then she looks up at the shadowsinger who watched them carefully from his corner, "Why did you bring him here? He's a child!"

"The high lord wants to talk to you," he walked closer to her, and pulled her to her feet by her cloak. The young boy held onto his sister's leg, "Wait, don't take Cal!"

Together, the three winnowed away.

──────────────────────────────

THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT briefly blinded her. When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw the High Lord standing before her, with his Illyrian general beside him. Immediately, she bowed. "Stand," he commanded. Then his gaze landed on the boy clutching her leg.

"What's your name, boy?"

The young fae gripped her pants tighter, "My sister said I shouldn't talk to strangers."

She wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Her little brother wouldn't talk to the High Lord but would come with the shadowsinger without a second thought. "My lord, forgive him. He-"

The High Lord raised a tanned hand, making her stop. He bent down to the boy's height, "I'm Rhysand. Now that we're not strangers, will you tell me your name?"

Her brother looked up at his sister so she nodded her head at him.

"I'm Viktor, but they call me Vik or Crow," the boy was slowly relaxing his hold on her pants, showing that he's growing comfortable in the High Lord's presence.

"Crow?" Rhysand asked, "Why is that?"

"I like shiny things," Vik's eyes then landed on the ring on Rhys' pinky.

Rhysand smiled, but it wasn't the type that would scare you off. It was a genuine smile on his face. Innocence from children always warmed him. "I like shiny things, too."

He stands straight, facing the thief. The High Lord turned serious, "Do you know why you're here?"

"The shadowsinger said you wanted to talk to me, my lord," she said, placing a hand on her brother, keeping him close.