Chapter Text
As Nesta walked into Rhysand's office, she swallowed down the bile rising and wiped her sweaty hands on her dull, ill-fitted dress. Nesta felt faint. Her breaths shallow.
Cassian, who had been silent the whole journey over, put a hand to the small of her back to lead her to the blue velvet chair that sat across from Rhysand's desk.
Except Rhys was not the one sitting at the desk.
Feyre, the High Lady of the Night Court, sat there with her hands playing with her hair as she read some official court document. She wore her court finery made up of a black blouse that shimmered in the sunlight. Feyre looked up and offered Nesta a small smile which Nesta pointedly ignored. Instead, Nesta sat down before her sore legs gave out on her from the long walk from her apartment. She refused to let Cassian fly her here not wanting to give him the satisfaction of touching her. As a result, her calf muscles were aching. She usually only walked between her apartment and the local taverns. All of which were a short distance. Her body no longer used to exerting itself so much.
Cassian leaned against mantle on Feyre's left. Always the loyal general watching over his High Lady.
Feyre cleared her throat. "You look well." Nesta knew that was lie. Nesta had never looked worse. Her hollowed eyes bruised from sleepless nights. Her skin pale from spending every waking hour indoors. Her dress hung loosely from drinking alcohol and skipping meals. "Thank you for coming."
Nesta bowed her head. "I am just a loyal servant of the Night Court listening to the orders of my humble leader."
Feyre sighed. She was clearly losing her patience. Good. "Nesta, this is not an official court order summoning. I called you here as my sister."
"I think having the Commander of the Night Court armies knock on my door at 7 in the morning would show otherwise. That feels like court business." Nesta leaned back into the chair crossing her arms and legs. Let them know that she does not appreciate being called like a dog in the early hours. "Actually, I think an official court meeting would offer guests some food or even some water gods forbid. I guess being a ruler still has not taught you manners it seems."
Feyre stiffened. "This does not need to be difficult, Nesta. I wanted–"
"This" Nesta gestured towards the air between them "does not need to be happening at all. In fact, this could have probably been written in a letter that I would have chosen to ignore. Would have saved us all the energy."
Feyre opened the drawer in the desk and pulled out an envelope. Then, she stood up, walked around the desk, and handed it to Nesta.
"Actually, this will be happening because I was woken up in the middle of the night when a tavern owner informed me that we had an outstanding balance that needed to be paid immediately. Which, by the way, is strange since everyone I know had dinner here and didn't go to the taverns."
Shit. Nesta knew that fucking bar owner was going to out her. She told him that the payments would be made in installments. Knew the bill would bring too much attention to her if it needed to be paid in full. He promised her he would do what she wanted. Fucking bastard. Nesta swallowed. "You always pay for my tab. Why is this any different?"
This time Cassian spoke up. "You know the difference"
Of course, Cassian knew exactly what she was thinking. She didn't care. Let him know how bad she was. Let him think the worst. Nesta finally offered a taunting smile back. "Is poor Rhysie having financial problems? Because the last time I checked he had no problem spending money on expensive bottles of quality alcohol or purchasing your next home. What’s a few pints–"
"That's enough, Nesta!” The tone almost startled Nesta–which she blamed entirely on the early hours–because after being yelled at for most of her life, it no longer fazed her. “Don't you dare talk about my mate that way. He works hard and protects his court. He–we–deserve it!"
"Does he? He seems like a man, excuse me, male, who was born in a position of power and who never had to worry about his next meal."
Feyre snorted. "That's rich coming from you, Nesta. You never had to worry about your next meal either because you just let me figure it out."
Cassian straightened, preparing to come between the two sisters. He probably expected Nesta to rage. To lash out. But Nesta just stood up, fixed her dress, and walked out toward the door. Before she left the room, she said "You're right, Feyre. I have always been your responsibility. A burden. But don't worry about me anymore; you're free. You are no longer obligated to keep me alive."
"Nesta–" Cassian began walking towards her, but she gave him a look that told him she would bite his head off if he even tried consoling her. She didn't need his pity.
The last thing she saw before exiting the room is Feyre falling into the same seat Nesta just vacated, Cassian kneeling in front of her and comforting her, and a dark presence materializing.
As Nesta walked outside the River Manor, she took a deep breath, soaked in the sunlight, and vomited all over the front steps.