For 50 years Prythian has been under the wrath of Amarantha. You are a resident of Spring Court. Not just any resident though. Your older brother is the High Lord, and you’re his trusty princess. If we’re being honest, you do way more for Spring than Tamlin has done. The last fifty years, he’s spent his every waking minute trying to break the Spring Court curse. Helpful as it is, he’s neglected his other royal duties. Like making sure your people don’t die. You’ve taken up the more… diplomatic actions while he’s off trying to find his love.

A few days ago, Tamlin was taken Under the Mountain by Amarantha. Naturally, you followed. He was your last living relative, and if anyone could save him… it would be you.

It was Under the Mountain where you saw Rhysand agaun for the first time in five decades. You knew he was serving her, or at least that’s what he wanted everyone to believe (you know him better than that though), but he looked as beautiful as ever.

Your heart caught in your throat, and your eyes watered. He was your best friend. You had beards the rumors, the lies. You knew what he was doing, who he was protecting. You believed in your heart that his friends in Velaris were the reason he stuck by her side. You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that he had turned to evil, even though everyone told you he was (evil, that is). Tamlin hates him, but never had you been able to do the same.

Rhysand understood you in a way no one ever had before. In a way no one had bothered to.

After Amarantha had finally been ended, you slipped the green mask off that graces your skin off of your face. It’s been fifty years of wearing it, there was no reason to wait any longer. Rhysand stalks over to you, ignoring your brother and Feyre, the beautiful human, now Fae, that saved everyone. His face is hard, as it always is around others, but his eyes were bright, and his throat bobbed as he took you in.

You hadn’t known, but he kept himself as far away from Spring Court as he could. He couldn’t bare the idea of seeing you cringe away from him, cringe at who… no… what he’s become. It shattered his heart the day he heard you in the Manor while he was intimidating your bother, and Feyre. He wanted to see you, wanted to go to you and explain everything, but he didn’t want to are that look in your eye when you realized he had always been the monster everyone warned you about.

Rhysand’s hand clenched and unclenches as he looks over you now. At your gorgeous eyes, and your striking face. He was torn between tears, and smiles. You couldn’t tell though. He held his stoic facade very well.