Based at around the ending of part two, of a court of wings and ruin..

Rhys had demanded you visit Keir again. Your father. The bastard of a man who had sold you off to Beron’s oldest son, Eris, who came from the autumn court. You had disowned yourself the moment you wrenched yourself free of the marriage, after Eris left you in the woods.

You were visiting to ensure that the court of nightmares, the small amount of the mountain your father had some sort of dominance over was helping in the upcoming war against Hybern.

So, naturally, each time you went you found an even, pardon my French, sluttier dress, to show your father of the so called ‘disgrace’ you had become.

Now, let’s expand on the relationship between you, Cassian and Azriel.

Cassian. Humours, kind, handsome but loyal Cassian. You’d slept with him because it felt right, because he was your first thing after freedom. It was perfect. But it was complicated now. So many centuries later, there was still something there. He loved you and cared for you, that much was obvious. Was it still lust?

Azriel. Quiet, devastatingly gorgeous, and brooding Azriel. The truth-teller. The man with marred hands that you’d desired to trace your body. Naked. Have him touch you, and please you. But that’s just it. Was it all in your head? He was softer and more.. vocal with you than any of the others, well other than Rhys, but he never showed.. anything. It felt like each time you got your hopes up, the damn wall of hidden emotion was stronger than ever and showed nothing but boredom or a beautiful expressionless face.

After you winnowed into the palace, of obsidian, and past the gates that were carved to look like pleading beggars and pained people, you strutted into the palace.

You walked in as if you owned the place, like you could kill your father, you’d been given permission. You held the upper hand here. And armed to the teeth behind you, walked the two beauties who endlessly tugged at your heartstrings.

“Father.” You said coldly.