Chapter Text
Dear Miss Archeron,
The correspondence we have had these last few months has been one of the biggest gifts of my entire existence.
You see, I met a talented woman through a colleague and we’ve been writing each other for months now, and not only do I get to hear all her wildly fantastic mathematics theories and discuss them with her, but I also discovered an amazing person behind these letters.
It has all made me realize how much I want to go visit the place that birthed such and exceptional mathematician, so I come before you with a proposition:
Would it be okay if took a purely professional trip to Hybern?
As I said, no funny business. I will be an absolute gentleman and won’t ask about the secret theorem you’re working on (that one you refuse to tell me about because it’s “too personal" to put on a piece of paper like this) until the second day, scout’s honor.
I’ll await your next letter expectantly, sitting by my mailbox until I get it. So if students at VU aren’t getting a proper education, it’s because of a certain Hybern woman who’s got me under her spell.
Yours dearly,
Rhysand Knight
After a full packed day of research, Feyre was not looking forward to having dinner with her whole family. She loved her sisters and she loved her dad, just not together in the same room.
She had gotten Rhysand’s letter that same morning and her mind was already spinning and thinking of all the things she’ll show him when he came, as well as the response to the letter she’d write when dinner was over, no matter how late.
Feyre took her keys out and opened her door, shouting “I’m home!” so no one got scared at the noise of the door closing and heading upstairs to her room to leave her stuff.
She had plans to move out next month, and that was the information the government had because she had filled all the forms, but the apartment she was going to rent suddenly became unavailable, so she’ll have to make do with a few more months at home.
She stepped into the kitchen and saw both her sisters had a glass of wine and were sipping on it while stirring the pot that had her favorite dish on it. Her father, however sat on the mahogany table, reading the newspaper.
“Tell me that’s spätzle I smell?” she asked, taking a deep breath in. “You’d be my very favorite sisters if it were…” She then kissed her father on the head while he winked at her. She had always been his favorite, being the youngest of the three and also the last to leave the nest, taking care of him and his bad leg even when her sisters were home.
Nesta hummed. “Oh yeah? And what would you do for your very favorite sisters? Maybe they could be exempt from dinner every week?”
Elain stomped on Nesta’s foot, sending her a nasty look that indicated she should be less direct, as much as she agreed. “What Nesta means is you should help set the table. That way we can get started as soon as it’s done.”
Feyre did what her sisters asked and helped serve all the food into their plates, setting them on their respective seats. When they were all seated they started eating.
They made polite conversation all through dinner, a few comments here and there, until the radio was turned on to fill the uncomfortable, tense silence.
“… we are Hybern people, and we do not yield. The war was more than two decades ago yet we are still dragging our debts because they were ridiculously large.
How are we supposed to flourish as a nation when all the others are poisoning us? Families split apart when their fathers have to work 12 hours a day to pay for something they don’t even remember. How is that fair?
Our country is home to the best people in the planet, our race is superior to any others. Everyone envies our looks, we’re strong, tall, blonde, blue eyes… Isn’t that the dream for a lot of people in countries like Prythian? Aren’t actors and actresses like those the most coveted?
And yet, here we are. How’s that possible? Because we have infiltrators in our midst. They’ve lived with us our whole lives, they’ve walked with us, gone to school with us… The Jews look kind of like us, but they’re not. They’re not superior like we are. They’re so ingrained in our society that we don’t question why they are and now it’s normal.
If we really want to beat our external enemies, we must first beat our internal ones. Don’t settle for less, my people. We should have what we want and leave the scraps to those who are undeserving.
I hope everyone tunes in next week for more instructions on how to make our dream happen. Until then, heil Hybern.”
When the radio cut off, the three sisters looked at each other.
Nesta was pale skinned, a brutally beautiful face that could cut you like the sharpest knife, her nose was straight and thin and honestly looked like a queen would in a movie. She had an almost feline grace to how she moved and everyone that saw her was left wanting.
Elain, being the middle child, was all about not being noticed; she wore her beautiful, silky hair in a loose braid, her clothes were always proper and clean, nothing too extravagant with colors that helped her blend in. People would say she was lovely, but bland. However, they hadn’t seen her snap at men who would pick flowers from her gardens or they would’ve thought different.
Feyre was a happy medium between her older sisters: she had a softer face than Nesta, but her icy blue eyes could burn when she got angry or passionate about something. She didn’t wear the straight cut clothes Nesta would, but she also didn’t go with the fashion, she had her own boyish yet cute style.
However, all three sisters had one thing in common: they were Jew. Both her parents were born and raised Jew, so by default, they’d been too. It wasn’t something they were ashamed of, yet for the first time in their lives, they looked at each other and felt terrified and uncertain of what their future might hold, only because they were born on the wrong side of the church.