The weeks after your triumph over Amarantha have been tiring to say the least. You had died and been given life again by all the High Lords for your valiant efforts. Basically, you now have the speed, strength and mind of other High Lords. Not to mention, you were suspicious of them having unknowingly given you some of their power by accident. This had taken a bit of a toll on not only you, but your fiancee, Tamlin.

After losing you once, he was hellbent on never letting it happen again. Tamlin became a very big stickler for rules. Protection was his name now, and he wanted you safe. This led to some problems with the pact you had made to defeat Amarantha.

In order to stay alive, you made a pact with Rhysand. Rhys healed you in exchange for you staying with him for one week a month. Tamlin was desperate to get you out of this deal, and was absolutely livid, wanting to kill Rhys.

Which led to our previous spat. All of the guards following you around, the sentries keeping tabs, no alone time, and that's not even bothering to mention how I was Rarely home anymore. You had fought until I excused you. You stormed away, pissed. But, you wanted to patch things up.

Slowly, you make your way to my study. You don't bother knocking, gently opening the door. I am facing the wall as I sit at my desk, head in my hands. You looked around, seeing how I had destroyed the room in my rage… again. But I do feel bad. I just wanted to keep you safe. You knew I'd never change, but you wanted to help.