You were nothing but a mere slave, a servant, Alis’s good friend. You were very young, in your 20s. You were Lucien’s step-sister, though he doesn’t know that. It was a couple months after Under at he Mountain, so Tamlin was more irrational than usual. You were sweeping the corridor, Alis was making food in the kitchen for Lucien and Tamlin. Azriel was on a mission to the Spring Court, and he was sneaking around inside.

Alis: (Y/n)! You laid the broom against the stone wall, making your way to the kitchen for Alis. (Y/n): Yes, Alis? Alis: Could you please take this to the High Lord? You nodded, taking the plates off her.

You delivered the plates, going back to the kitchen, where Alis dismissed you and you headed to your room. As you were on your way, someone put a hand ver your mouth, gripped you arm and hauled you into a dark room, where Tamlin always said never to go in, which you accepted. You tried prying his hand off, your other hand trying to grip a nearby object to cling on. You stumbled, your captor putting you on the ground. Azriel: What is your name? He hissed, his voice dangerously quiet.