The North Star

12

The days passed in a senseless manner.

I silently wallowed at my survival and my wing's death.

I hadn't heard a thing from Rhysand, or Cassian, or Azriel, so I felt kept in the dark. I had chosen to come here, but that was to keep us away from war. My father was smart, and he wouldn't agree to a contract he couldn't find his way out of. A conniving trait, but in this situation, a necessary one.

I interacted with few people, just Eris and his family.

Beron, and his wife, and of course, all of his prosperity.

Eris had 6 brothers. He was the oldest, Lucien was the youngest. Two of them had died at Tamlin's hand, so there were only three who were still left in the Autumn Court.

The second born, general of the High Lord's armies. Ares. Beron was not creative when it came to his son's names. He was large and bulky, and a learned swords master.

The fourth born, was the troublemaker. Brenner. His twin, his other half had died at Tamlin's hand. They helped murder Lucien's lover, Jacinta. I believe that it was a just killing, but they said Brenner's jokes only became cruel after his brothers death.

And the fifth born, accepted his fate as just another pawn of his father's Tristan was too low in the line for High Lord, and insignificant to be of any worth to marry off to another court. He couldn't escape, and would probably be married off to a Fae within the Autumn Court. He was reserved, and spent most of his time in the library. I had come across Tristan a few times there, but we exchanged few words.

Breakfast and lunch were often individual meals, but dinner was a family affair. There was always arguing between Ares and Brennan, while Eris would rule them up. Tristan stayed silent, unless spoken to.

And every evening, Eris was sent to collect me, as part of his family.

I tried to figure out Beron's angle. He would not want Night Court royalty on the throne, when Eris would inherit the throne. Did it mean than Eris was not in line to collect the throne, or did it carve a larger target onto his back?

Knowing Beron, it was probably both. With four sons competing for the status of High Lord, it would never end well. And Beron did not have any plans to step down in the future, or perish.

He was too careful for that. He would trade his wife's life for his own, if it meant survival.

Which is why the Lady of the Autumn Court was silent. She was the epitome of what an Autumn Court wife should be. Doting, concerned, obedient.

I hated that was the woman I was to be molded into, but I pitied her. Hundreds of years of marriage or Beron must have been pure torture.

Her amber eyes would sometimes find mine, and sometimes, there'd be a glimmer of hope. But it would always fade away when Beron would speak.

Like now.

"Carina, as a beloved welcome to our family, we are going to throw a ball a week from tonight in your honor." He said.

I put on a doting smile, "How kind of you, High Lord. Thank you." This inevitably meant that I would see my family—The Night Court. I could find out there progress, or even see if there was ways I could help.

Maybe if I was actually allowed to see the certificate, I could find a way to get out of this mess.

Beron continued, "And another joyous announcement. Your wedding date: the autumn equinox of next year."

This was baffling, even the Lady of the Autumn Court lost composure as she looked surprised.

I pointed out, "Engagements between the Fae usually last a few years, and for High Fae it can be a dozen."