#Kallias

[potatoplace]

Mother Knows Best

Poly!SJM Week 2025: Day 2 | @polysjmweek

Kallias x Viviane x Reader

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Summary: Your High Lord and Lady, your closest friends, have called you in to see them for dinner. You're worried they know of your feelings for them, but it turns out, you have nothing to fear.

Warnings: mild angst but nothing bad

Words: ~2.2k

Author's Note: here's Day 2! A tiiiny bit late but who cares lol. I really liked getting to write this pairing, I'll definitely be doing more of them in the future!! Also if something doesn't make sense, yes it does. Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🩵🩵🤍🩵🩵

Your knees ached from kneeling on the cold marble for so long, your heart heavy from the prayers you’d been repeating in your head for over an hour.

You blessed me with such friendship, and cursed me with affection.

Please, just let me live without these feelings.

Let me stay with my friends.

Let them love me back.

Over and over, you prayed to the Mother to solve your problem. To keep you from being made to leave your court, to keep you with your oldest friends, the ones you love.

You had grown up in close proximity to both Kallias and Viviane, being an orphaned fae living in the Winter Court’s grand temple, connected to the High Lord’s palace. Your pale blue skin and curved, white horns on your head had made you feel out of place among so many High Fae, but Kal and Viv?

They had befriended you without a thought.

And while Viviane had moved away when you were all in your second century, the three of you had stayed thick as thieves, sneaking away every night before Winter Solstice to Kallias’s cabin, and any other night you could manage. You would stay up all night, catching up on the goings-on in your lives, drinking just enough spiced wine to warm your bodies against the inevitable blizzard raging outside.

Though even without the wine, or the blazing fire in the fireplace, their presence alone would have kept you plenty warm.

Your… Feelings for the pair had arisen on one of those nights, when the three of you had snuggled close under a blanket, Kallias and Viviane on either side of you. The closeness of them, the soft puff of their breath on your neck, the gentle brush of their hands.

Of course, it didn’t help that they were so kind and considerate, always willing to listen to you. And oh, how they brought you so much joy without even trying. Hearing about their day, or even the random, strange thoughts that would pop into their heads never failed to bring a smile to your face, spark the flame of joy within your chest.

And in the last century and a half, those feelings had never faded, only growing stronger with each passing day.

Of course, you had never spoken aloud your attraction, your love for either Kallias or Viviane, utterly afraid of rejection. You saw the way they looked at each other, the pure love in their eyes, even if they were too stubborn to admit it yet. Early on, you suspected that they were mates, with the way they were always on the same wavelength.

Kal had been busy being raised as the High Lord’s heir, most of his days crammed full of meetings and lessons. Viviane had been trained as a courtier, as well as honing her magical abilities with the help of Kallias, their powers so similar. And when Kal had sent her to a large border town, near the Summer Court, she had taken a position of leadership in their armed forces after excelling in physical combat, once given the chance to learn.

You had joined the priesthood early, as soon as you had been allowed by the High Priestess of Winter. She had taken you in at the age of two, the closest you had to a mother. In the four centuries you had been alive, you rose to the top of the ranks, your devotion to the mother and the people of Winter your top priority in every way. Just before the rule of Amarantha, you had earned the title of Head Priestess, just a step below the High Priestess, Jayna.

However… Amarantha had slaughtered most of the priestesses in Winter when your court had rebelled, along with the two dozen younglings who’d had their minds shattered by her daemati. Your near-mother, Jayna, had been among those killed.

In a cruel twist of fate, you had been given her position by Amarantha, her maniacal cackle still ringing in your ears some nights when she had appointed you, laughing about how distraught the Mother would be to see such pitiful scum, a lesser fae, in charge of one of her temples.

But when Kallias had been freed, nearly fifty years later?

He had officially appointed you as High Priestess, a new, more ornate circlet made for you to wear, made to fit easily around your curved horns - a detail that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Before that, though, before he had given you your title, he had rushed to Viviane, confessing his love and asking for her hand in marriage. Not even a day later, you had married them using your title as High Priestess, your heart so, so happy, but so, so broken, three sharp, jagged pieces constantly digging into your chest.

You were so, unbelievably happy that your friends were married, and even happier that they were happily mated, their bond finally having come to life after the wedding night.

You only wished to be a part of it.

Over the past two years you had slowly withdrawn, leaving your friends space to learn their new relationship dynamic without your presence, an unwelcome third wheel.

Not that they’d indicated any discomfort with you being near them, but… You needed to give them space.

To give yourself space.

But earlier today, while you were taking your lunch, a note had arrived, sealed with Viviane’s personal seal.

Asking you to dinner, saying the three of you had something to discuss.

You’d managed to make your way through the rest of the day without giving away how utterly nervous you were feeling, performing blessings on those who came, seeking your help. An hour before you were due to arrive at the High Lord and Lady’s personal quarters, you sought the guidance of the Mother herself.

Well… Begged for guidance, help from the Mother. She had never led you wrong before, though you wish she’d allowed you more power to save those who had been under your care during Amarantha’s rule.

But now?

She was giving you nothing, no hints as to what to do in this situation.

And you were out of time.

With a sigh, you stood from your kneeling position at the altar, lowering your invoking stone back to your chest, resting over silvery blue robes.

You knew the way to their shared rooms so well, you could have walked the path with your eyes shut. But the closer you came to their door, the slower your steps, the more your nerves told you to turn around.

That wasn’t a possibility, though. You have to face them, even if it’s for the last time, for them to kick you out of their court.

You took a deep breath when you stood before their door, preparing yourself for whatever may happen once you enter. One knock and the door swung open, your hand still poised to knock again.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Viviane exclaimed, throwing her arms around you and squeezing you tightly, her vanilla and cinnamon scent washing over you as her silver hair bounced over your shoulders. She pulled back to look at you with her sparkling blue eyes before saying, “I feel like it’s been forever! And your hair looks gorgeous, by the way.” Her fingers ran through the ends of your hair, half an inch longer than when she’d last seen you, the natural curls of your azure hair a bit more noticeable.

“Thank you, Viv, and yes… It’s been a bit since we’ve met, just the three of us,” you said as she tugged you inside, closing the door behind you.

Their private dining table, made to seat four, was already set with dinner, steam rising from the roast chicken, and you could spy potatoes, carrots, and onions in the dish surrounding the bird. Kallias was busy pouring the wine, sparkling white, your favorite.

He looked up when you and Viviane approached him, a warm smile crossing his face when he saw you. “Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again dear,” he said before setting the bottle down on the table and approaching you, arms outstretched.

Even with your promise to yourself to give them space, you couldn’t help but melt into his hold, inhaling his refreshing pine and snow scent greedily.

“It’s good to see you too, Kal,” you said with a nervous smile when you pulled away. “The food looks lovely.”

Viviane smiled brightly at you before tugging you to the table, settling you into a chair before taking the one to your right, Kallias sitting to your left. He began carving the roast while Viviane dishes out the roasted vegetables and cut a fresh loaf of bread into thick slices.

Your hands rested uselessly in your lap as you watched them work, twitching every so often when it looks like they need help, but they never truly do.

And by the time the food was plated, your stomach was so twisted in knots all you could do was push food around your plate, occasionally taking a bite when you could manage.

It took maybe ten minutes for one of them to knock you out of your stupor.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” Kallias asked, concerned enough that your eyes snapped from a roast carrot to his ice blue eyes, fear in your heart that you’d been caught.

“Wha- what do you mean is something wrong?” you laughed nervously. “Nothing’s wro-”

“Don’t say that,” Viviane interrupted, a sharp look in her eye. “You’ve been avoiding us for the past year whenever you can, and don’t say you haven’t because you have.” She fixed you with a stare when you opened your mouth to deny the accusation. “And now you’ve barely eaten a thing, and you can’t even look me in the eye,” Viviane noted sadly.

“Don’t try to act like she’s not stating the facts, Y/N,” Kallias said gently, taking one of your hands into his. “We miss you, and we just want to know why. Why you’re pulling away from us.”

With both of them staring at you, their beautiful, concerned eyes watching your every move, you fell apart. You wrenched your hand from Kallias’s grasp to bury your face in both of them, wanting to hide the tears welling in your eyes, even if you knew it was useless in the long run.

You were still here, in their rooms, with few ways to escape the conversation other than fleeing the court entirely. And you weren’t willing to do that, unless you had to.

“Hey,” Viviane said softly, a delicate hand pulling yours away from your face, revealing red eyes with tears pooled in them. One fell down your cheek and Kallias’s thumb brushed it away. “Please, Y/N?”

More tears fell at her plea, and you shook your head. You wouldn’t - couldn’t tell them.

“Will you at least let us tell you the reason we invited you for dinner?” Kallias asked quietly, a hand cupping your cheek gently.

Tell you something? Probably that you’re banished from the court, your mind hissed at you.

But you needed to hear one way or the other.

So you nodded your head.

Viviane took a deep, calming breath before speaking. “I-I wanted to tell you that I love you, Y/N. And I… I’ve loved you for a long time,” she whispered.

Your heart caught in your throat - this couldn’t be real, could it?

Kallias turned your gaze from Viviane to him with a gentle hand on your chin. “I have loved you since we were younglings, Y/N, barely old enough to wander the city without guards accompanying me. I have loved you, and I wish that the mating bond would snap to include you to, I care for you so deeply. And Viv has told me the same, we just…” Kallias sighed.

“We can’t live without you, Y/N. Please, please come back to us,” Viviane pleaded as she held one of your hands tightly in hers.

You could hardly believe what you were hearing - Kallias and Viviane, your friends, your longtime crushes - they had felt the same way about you as you did them for years? A giggle left your lips at the idea, the sheer stupidity of the three of you.

The swish of Viv’s hair told you that she and Kal had made eye contact at the noise, likely exchanging concerned looks.

“Is… Is everything… Okay?” Viv asked shyly.

You giggled again. “Everything is- oh, Mother!” you laughed. “You’re telling me that we could have been happy together all this time?” You looked at the two of them, eyes bright. “Really?”

Viviane grinned at you. “Really,” she breathed.

“When you put it like that, the three of us do seem a bit foolish,” Kal chuckled before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “So? Will you have us?”

You smiled wide as you answered. “Yes!”

Immediately you were pulled from your chair as the two pushed it back, pulling you into their arms. “Oh, thank the Mother,” Kallias sighed.

It was Viviane who kissed you first, her soft, pink lips pressing gently to yours. Kallias’s followed shortly after, pressing more firmly to yours, more sure.

Tears filled your eyes for an entirely different reason.

Perhaps the Mother sent you no sign, no course of action for a reason. To be here.

The Mother knows best, after all.

🩵🩵🤍🩵🩵

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars

[grimseverity]

I desperately wanted to continue this so I did xD

—

Rhysand’s arrogant mask chipped, his eyes wavering to Tarquin, Kallias, and Helion. The last two had their eyes cast to the table, but Tarquin’s eyes were boring into Feyre like needles.

“So this is what happens when the lot you’ve thrown in with don’t get what they want.” He glanced to the Lady of Autumn’s burn, and then at Eris still pressing his hand to his neck. “I think I spoke too soon on my forgiveness of you and your theft and deceit.”

“Tarquin.” Thesan prodded, only to be immediately overpowered by Beron.

“I agree. Taking advantage of a new High Lord’s trusting nature…pitiful.” His simmering eyes returned to Tamlin. “The snakes of the Night Court will let us all rot from the inside if we don’t deal with this now.”

Varian nearly jumped from his seat, eyes wide at Tarquin. “You can’t be serious about joining—“

“Silence.” Tarquin demanded, eyes flicking between his cousin and the simmering ancient one he seemed to covet, seated on the Night Court side with the nerve to look bored.

“You declare war on Night, Beron, and the risk of losing to Hybern increases exponentially.” She sighed.

“Tamlin’s provisions of their strategies puts us at an advantage, and unlike all of you, the Autumn Court doesn’t border the coast. So unless they wish to try and winnow an entire army through Spring and Summer, your point is moot.” Beron returned to Tarquin. “I am perfectly willing to provide my forces to bolster any defense against a Hybern invasion by land, to any who join me in this declaration.”

Cassian was on his feet and running before anyone could blink. “I’ve heard enough!” He tore towards Eris and Beron, ready to shred his way through one to get to the other, before a large golden furred hand caught him by the throat, and launched him across the hall. Slamming into one of the pillars, Cassian rolled out onto the floor, Tamlin standing from his seat with him half his bestial form unsheathed.

He said nothing, his harsh breathing the only threat he needed to make as he glared at the stunned Night Court entourage. Nesta ran to help Cassian up, Kallias standing up as he did so.

“I say yes.” He declared, Vivane reaching for his hand in shock. Taking it in response, Kallias glanced down at her with a look that begged her to trust him.

“You would align yourself with him?” Morrigan spat, her voice directed at Kallias’ wife, her friend. “As cruel as the lot of them are?”

“There’s only one High Lord who has been cruel to us, and it is not Beron.” Kallias retorted, ice blue gaze sharp enough to kill. “Leaving bodies in Spring during Amarantha’s reign, stealing from Summer, lying to us about our dead children, and now attacking Autumn right here!? You’re out of control Rhysand, you and your entire goddamned court.”

“He did what he did to protect his people!” Feyre argued, now standing up as well.

“At the expense of us.” Tamlin replied, his voice cold and devoid of any feeling. “And at the expense of you.” He shook his head. “Are your thoughts even your own?”

“He taught me how to shield, how to use my powers in the first place, while you imprisoned me, let me fester in the mansion.” Tamlin’s brow furrowed.

“Then wouldn’t it make sense that he would know how to get by it? A teacher never teaches everything he knows,” Tamlin’s eyes rose to Rhysand’s, “Incase his apprentice turns against him.”

“By that logic,” Rhys began, hatred in his voice, “I could simply claw into all of your minds right now and make you do what I want.”

“You even think to touch my mind, and you won’t like what happens.” Helion responded simply. “And threats are what you got you into this mess in the first place Rhys. Best not double down.”

Rhys, despite his perfect composure, panicked. Thanks to Azriel and the rest, he’d have to deal with Hybern from the sea, and now Autumn, Winter, and Spring from the land. Tarquin would have refused Beron outright, but now with Kallias on his side, the Lord of the Winter Court would have an easier time convincing Summer to align.

And then there was the worst case scenario, which all of the high lords were smart enough not to bring up: Spring bringing Hybern to the table, and them aligning with Autumn, Summer, and Winter as well.

In the end, only the Archeron sisters—and maybe Tamlin once—gave a damn about the humans to the south and the east. Giving them all to Hybern to avoid destruction and war, it would be as if the Treaty and the Wall never existed.

“I think we’re done here.” Beron stated, urging his family to leave. “Kallias, Tamlin, I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait.” They all heard Feyre speak, turning back merely out of curiosity. “I apologize for our actions here. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, and I take responsibility for it.” Her eyes fell into the Lady of Autumn, who despite her injuries, was listening intently. “But Amren’s right, if we divide like this, we will lose. Please don’t do this.”

Beron let her plea sit in the air for a moment before responding. “You know, we’ve never had a High Lady before. The land has simply never chosen it. And…I’ve never had a High Lady beg before.” Beron smirked as his eyes went from Feyre to Rhysand. “So many first to be explored in the coming days of war. Perhaps you shouldn’t have thrown in with such an incompetent lot,” He glanced to Tamlin, “And stayed where it was safe.”

Beron and his family winnowed out, then Kallias, then Tarquin and his cadre. Only Thesan, Helion, and Tamlin remained.

“I’ll never forgive you for this.” Feyre hissed, shuddering as she stared at the High Lord of Spring. His single chuckle did little to hide the hurt inside him.

“Just as I won’t forgive you for what you did to my court. For the thousands of people you’ve put in danger, and for the ruination of their sanctuary.” Tamlin’s half-beast eyes crushed against Rhys’ crumbling facade of indifference, the panic bubbling to the surface. “We were friends once, and I had hoped that despite what happened, despite your service to a female who terrorized Prythian for half a century, we could maybe fix it. But you just keep taking, and taking from me.” Tamlin’s claw ground into the table, and the tell tale shadows of winnowing flickered across his body. “But now? I hate you, and when me, or Beron, or whoever else finally rips your goddamned head off,” his eyes fell back to Feyre, “I pray to the Mother that this was all him controlling you, and that you are freed from his tyranny. It is that possibility alone that keeps me from wanting to watch you burn with the rest of them, because…” he paused. “Thorns and all, remember?”

Tamlin winnowed away, leaving the Night Court to prepare both for war within and war without.

What SHOULD have happened during the High Lord meeting

Beron moved to the Lady of Autumn's seat, resting a hand on her shoulder. The same arm that now bore a bright scar. She did not so much as flinch, but her hand tightened around Eris's wrist.

"You have injured my wife, viciously attacked my heir, and made an attempt on my life. These are acts of war, little girl. Perhaps your mate should have done better filling you with knowledge of politics and common sense rather than vile seed!"

"Beron!"

"I have spoken my piece!" he snarled in answer to Thesan's snap. Beron turned back to the Night Court and pointed his finger.

"Too long have we endured the arrogance of this insolent half-breed. Well. No longer." Beron spat out the words, "This meeting was the last straw in a bale of thousands. As High Lord of Autumn, I declare war on Night."

The ripple was instantaneous.

"Father, are you certain of this?" Eris murmured.

But Beron did not answer his son. His gaze was fixed on Rhys's frozen face. The male recovered quickly, a sneer forming on his lips.

"What matter is it of mine whether you wage war on us or not? We both know your forces are nothing in comparison to Night's."

Beron's face turned thunderous, and he opened his mouth to reply when a voice cut through, sharp and clear.

"Spring will stand with you, Lord Beron."

Rhys barked out a laugh, relaxing "Oh? With what army?"

Tamlin merely smiled, unsheathing those deadly claws and letting them gleam in the steady candle light.

"I don't need one. I killed one High Lord of Night before. I can do it again."

[moonlitstoriess]

Unseen, Unheard, Unloved- Initial Rhysand, Eventual Kallias x fem!Reader (2/2)

Summary: She had given him everything—her heart, her trust, and now, the child growing within her. But as Rhysand’s attention drifts elsewhere, as excuses pile up, and as whispers of a mortal girl turn into something far more dangerous, she begins to wonder: Was she ever truly seen? Was she ever truly heard? Or had she been unloved all along?

See masterlist

Part 1 epilogue

Warnings: none I think

Azriel winnowed them inside the grand entrance hall of the Winter Court’s palace, and the instant her boots touched the icy marble, Y/n felt the air shift. Cold, crisp, and biting—but not in an unwelcoming way. No, it was different from Velaris’ warmth, different from the suffocating tension that had clung to her like a second skin. This was clean. It was fresh. It smelled of snow and pine, of something untouched and unburdened by the weight she had been carrying for weeks.

But her body was still heavy. Exhaustion curled in her bones, her limbs aching from both the winnowing and everything leading up to it.

Azriel set her bag down beside her, his movements careful, precise—as if handling something fragile. Which, she supposed, she was. But she wouldn’t break. She couldn’t break. Not anymore.

Before she could even take in more of her surroundings, a familiar, cool voice broke through the silence.

"Welcome to Winter, Y/n."

Kallias stood a few feet away, dressed in pristine white and silver, his platinum hair gleaming under the grand chandelier’s light. His sharp, glacial blue eyes softened as he took her in, as he noted the weary set of her shoulders, the way she clutched the front of her coat as if holding herself together.

Y/n tried to muster a smile, something resembling a greeting, but all she managed was a tired nod. “Kallias.”

The High Lord of Winter stepped closer, his gaze scanning her as if committing her presence to memory. “You must be exhausted.” It wasn’t a question.

Before she could answer, Azriel’s voice cut through, softer this time. “I’ll be checking up on you.”

She turned to him, the words lingering in the air between them. It wasn’t a warning, wasn’t a demand. Just a quiet promise. She swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling—gratitude, maybe, or guilt, or just a strange sadness that this moment, this transition, was real.

Still, she nodded. Then, before she could think too hard about it, she took a small step forward and wrapped her arms around Azriel, pressing her forehead against his shoulder.

Azriel stilled for half a second, then exhaled quietly, his own arms tightening around her in a silent promise.

"Bye, Az."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it made his grip on her tighten. “Take care of yourself, little ghost.”

She let out a quiet breath. He hadn’t called her that in a long time.

He pulled away first, his hazel eyes flickering to Kallias.

A silent conversation passed between them. One that Y/n wasn’t fully privy to but felt in the tense set of Azriel’s jaw, in the unreadable shift in Kallias’ expression. It was an understanding. A warning. A promise.

Then, Kallias broke the silence, his voice cool but edged with something pointed.

“As long as she is with me, she will always be cared for.”

It wasn’t a simple reassurance. It was a statement. A reminder. And perhaps, a veiled jab at the one who had failed her.

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. But he only nodded, only gave Y/n one last lingering glance before he winnowed away, the shadows swallowing him whole.

And just like that, it was real.

She was here.

Truly, fully here.

Silence stretched between her and Kallias before he exhaled softly. “Are you hungry?”

Y/n hesitated. “I—”

His gaze sharpened slightly, sweeping over her frame. His lips pressed into a frown. “Have they not been feeding you properly there?”

She blinked, startled by the question.

And before she could think of a response, he added, “I can see your collarbones.”

It was true. The months of stress, of sleepless nights and overthinking, had left their mark on her body. She had eaten, of course—but only enough to function. Only enough to get through the days.

But she couldn’t say that.

So she just shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Kallias’ frown deepened. And then, to her surprise, he reached out, placing a warm, steadying hand on her shoulder. Not forceful, not imposing—just a firm, grounding presence.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re pregnant. Carrying another life, giving your energy to them. Of course, you being well-fed is of the utmost importance.”

She opened her mouth, but he was already picking up her bag. “Come,” he said smoothly. “Let me show you to your rooms personally.”

She blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” There was no room for argument.

So she followed.

The halls of the Winter Palace were as grand as she remembered—tall ceilings, intricate carvings of wolves and swirling ice patterns adorning the archways. Everything gleamed in shades of silver, white, and blue, but it wasn’t an unfeeling cold. There was warmth woven into the design, into the soft glow of faelights lining the corridors, into the thick, plush rugs muffling their footsteps.

“You’ve made a few changes since I was last here,” she noted, her voice quiet but steady.

Kallias glanced at her. “Somewhat.”

"Somewhat?" she echoed, raising a brow. "There's an entire new wing on the east side."

His lips twitched slightly. "You noticed."

"I notice everything."

Kallias hummed. “It was necessary. We needed more space.”

Y/n huffed a quiet laugh. "For what? Ice sculptures?"

Kallias chuckled, the sound low, but real. “For expansion. Winter has been growing stronger these past few years.”

Something in the way he said it made her glance at him. “Stronger how?”

He slid a look her way, something amused but serious in his expression. “We’ve been securing better alliances. Strengthening our borders.”

Y/n tilted her head slightly. “So, politics.”

“Politics,” he agreed. Then, after a pause, “Which you’ve never had much patience for.”

She scoffed. "No, I just never had patience for stupidity in politics."

Kallias smirked. “Fair enough.”

A comfortable silence settled between them.

And then, more gently, he added, “You never answered my question.”

She frowned. “Which one?”

“If they were feeding you properly.”

Y/n exhaled, already tired of this conversation. “I ate.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She looked away. “It’s the only one I’m giving.”

A quiet beat.

Then Kallias murmured, “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

Her breath caught for a moment.

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she focused on the hallway ahead—on the set of ornate doors that Kallias pushed open, revealing her chambers.

The room was beautiful—bathed in soft hues of silver and white, with a fireplace already crackling in the corner. The bed was large, draped in plush blankets that looked like they had been crafted from the softest furs. A seating area was arranged near the balcony doors, the windows opening up to a breathtaking view of the snowy mountains in the distance.

Y/n exhaled, the tension in her chest loosening just a fraction.

Kallias set her bag down by the bed. “If there’s anything else you need, you only have to ask.”

She turned to him. “This is… more than enough. Thank you, Kallias.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then, finally, he gave her a small nod. “I’ll send some servants to help you get settled in and bring you food.”

She wanted to argue, to say she could handle it on her own. But the truth was—she didn’t want to. She was tired. So, instead, she just nodded.

Kallias lingered for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he turned toward the door.

“Rest, Y/n.” His voice was softer now, quieter. “You are safe here.”

And then, with a final glance, he left.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she let out a breath that didn’t feel like it was suffocating her.

The first thing Y/n did after Kallias left was sit on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. The exhaustion in her bones was unbearable, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest. The quiet of Winter was so different from Velaris, from the ever-present hum of the city, the laughter of people she had once called family. Here, there was only silence, save for the distant howl of the wind outside her window.

The room was warm, but she still felt cold.

She had barely unpacked when the servants arrived, bringing trays of food—warm soup, roasted meats, fresh bread. Everything smelled rich and comforting, but the moment she sat at the small table and lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips, she set it back down. Her stomach twisted at the thought of eating.

The exhaustion finally won over the overthinking. She stripped out of her clothes, slipped into a nightgown the Winter servants had left for her, and slid under the thick blankets. The mattress was plush, the warmth inviting. Still, it took her a long time to sleep.

When she did, her dreams were filled with shadows and echoes of the past.

The soft sound of footsteps stirred Y/n awake. At first, she barely registered it, the warmth of the blankets anchoring her to the bed, her body still sluggish with exhaustion.

Then came a gentle knock at the door, followed by the quiet creak of it opening.

"Lady Y/n?"

Y/n forced her eyes open, the dim morning light filtering through the frosted windows. A young female stood at the threshold, her hands folded neatly in front of her, eyes bright but cautious.

"I apologize for waking you," the maid said, stepping further into the room. "But I was sent to assist you in getting ready for the day."

Y/n blinked, mind still sluggish from sleep. "Getting ready…?"

The maid offered a small, polite smile. "High Lord Kallias has requested to see you. He wishes to personally show you the palace grounds."

That woke her up.

Y/n sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "Me?" she asked, voice raspy from sleep.

"Yes, my lady."

Y/n stared at the maid, confused. Kallias wanted to show her around? Personally?

Her first instinct was to decline. To stay buried in the warmth of the bed, to avoid whatever this new world was trying to offer her. But then she remembered Azriel’s quiet words before he left.

"Take care of yourself, little ghost."

The thought of him was enough to make her sigh, her reluctance softening just slightly.

"Alright," she murmured.

The maid nodded, moving to help her out of bed. Y/n accepted the assistance, stretching her limbs carefully before allowing the female to guide her toward the dressing screen.

"The High Lord wanted you to be comfortable, so he had clothes prepared for you," the maid said as she unwrapped a fresh set of winter garments.

Y/n hesitated before reaching out to feel the fabric. It was soft, warmer than anything she’d ever worn before, and lined with fur along the collar and sleeves.

"It’s beautiful," she admitted quietly.

"Everything in Winter is made to withstand the cold," the maid explained as she assisted Y/n into the outfit. "And with your condition, the High Lord was adamant that you have only the warmest materials available."

Her condition.

Y/n looked down at her stomach, her hands instinctively brushing over the swell of it. She had almost forgotten—almost.

A child. Rhysand’s child.

Her throat tightened.

"Do you need anything before we leave?" the maid asked gently, sensing the shift in her mood.

Y/n forced herself to breathe, to push those thoughts away. "No," she said, lifting her chin slightly. "I’m ready."

The maid studied her for a moment before nodding and leading her toward the door.

As they stepped into the hall, Y/n found herself exhaling slowly, steadying herself. She could do this. She would do this.

She was nervous, but there was something thrilling about wearing these colors—Kallias's colors. Winter’s colors. She had heard the whispers about how striking she looked in the ensemble, but it was Kallias's reaction that she had been anticipating the most.

As she rounded the corner into the main corridor, her heart fluttered at the sight of Kallias standing by one of the grand arches, his eyes immediately falling on her. He was speaking to a servant, but the moment his gaze landed on her, everything else seemed to fall away.

His lips parted, his jaw tightening for a split second before his eyes widened in clear awe. His posture straightened, and he seemed to forget the conversation altogether as he stepped forward.

Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat, suddenly self-conscious. His gaze was intense, as though he could see straight through the fabric to the very essence of her.

“You look…” Kallias's voice faltered slightly, his words tripping over themselves as he stared at her, clearly taken aback. “You look... breathtaking, Y/n.”

A warmth spread through her chest at the sincerity in his voice. She felt herself flush, the heat in her cheeks rising despite the chill of the palace around them.

“I... thank you,” she murmured, suddenly unsure of what to say. She wanted to dismiss his comment, but his reaction made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t quite prepared for. His gaze was soft but filled with admiration, and it made her feel special, cherished even.

“I’ve seen many dressed in Winter’s colors,” Kallias continued, still a little breathless. “But none wear them like you.”

Y/n smiled at that, feeling a strange giddiness inside her. “I... I’m not sure I’m used to it,” she said, her voice almost shy as she glanced down at the dress.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You wear them with such grace, as though Winter was made for you."

She could feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of his words settling over her like a comforting blanket. It was impossible not to feel seen, truly seen, in that moment.

Before she could respond, Kallias quickly cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Shall we? The palace grounds await."

They stepped outside, and the cool air of Winter immediately wrapped around them. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the sky, their icy touch brushing against Y/n’s cheeks as she walked alongside Kallias. He led her through the sweeping courtyard, the grandeur of the palace laid out before them like a kingdom untouched by time. The air felt still, the only sound being the crunch of their boots in the snow.

"I’m glad to see you settling in," Kallias said, his voice warm but with a subtle edge of concern. "Winter is... different, I know. But I’m glad you chose it as your place of peace."

Y/n glanced at him, her thoughts swirling. “I needed something... quiet. Somewhere to breathe,” she said, her tone soft.

“You’ve come far,” he observed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "But—" He hesitated, clearly unsure how to continue. "But why Winter? Why not the Night Court?"

Her stomach flipped at the mention of Rhysand, and she quickly deflected. “I think I just needed the distance,” she said, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “Rhysand has a lot on his plate, and I didn’t want to add to that.”

Kallias didn’t press her immediately, but his sharp eyes seemed to catch every tiny change in her expression, every flicker of discomfort. There was a brief silence, and then he changed the subject with a gentleness that surprised her.

“Well,” he said, his voice lighter now, “Winter may be cold, but it has its warmth in unexpected places. Take the ice gardens, for example.” He gestured toward the path ahead, where the glistening, frozen flowers seemed to sparkle like jewels in the sunlight. “The flowers are grown by our people, with care and patience. Something about them... they remind us of the resilience Winter offers.”

Y/n was entranced by the sight. The beauty of the ice flowers seemed to mirror her own thoughts—fragile, yet persistent. “They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with wonder.

“They are,” Kallias agreed, his smile warming his face. “They remind me of my people. Of how, even in the harshest of winters, we find a way to thrive.”

They continued their walk, moving through the courtyard toward the training grounds. Y/n caught sight of some of Winter’s warriors practicing their skills, each of them moving with disciplined precision. There was a quiet power to them, a strength that seemed almost palpable.

“Winter warriors,” Kallias said, as if reading her thoughts. “They are the heart of our court. They defend these lands with their lives, and they do so without hesitation.”

Y/n watched them for a moment longer, her mind briefly wandering to what it would be like to be part of something so powerful. Her stomach tightened, but she quickly pushed the thought aside.

“They look... strong,” she commented, trying to distract herself.

“They are,” Kallias agreed with a hint of pride in his voice. He glanced at her, his gaze thoughtful. “I respect them deeply. They remind me that strength is not just physical—it's in how we weather the storms, how we carry on.”

As they continued, Kallias showed her more of Winter’s wonders: the grand library, where the ancient texts of Winter’s history were kept, and the quiet nursery, where young children played in the snow, their laughter ringing out like music to Y/n’s ears.

Seeing the children, Y/n’s chest tightened. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to watch her own child—her soon-to-be faeling—play and grow in a world that was, despite its trials, filled with warmth. The thought of their laughter, the innocence of childhood, made her heart swell. But just as quickly, that warmth faltered, a sharp pang of uncertainty twisting in her gut. She thought of the father, and the disappointment that would soon greet their child. The weight of that truth settled heavily in her chest, the lightness of the moment slipping away.

She let out a soft breath, unsure whether she should voice the thoughts swirling in her mind. But Kallias was beside her, his presence reassuring as always.

He caught her gaze and offered a small, knowing smile. "You'll find your peace here, Y/n. You’re not invisible to us. You never will be."

His words struck a chord deep within her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe it.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she entered the breakfast room. The space was like something out of a dream—a vision of comfort and warmth amidst the icy landscape. The walls were adorned with intricate ice carvings that seemed to shimmer in the pale light streaming through the large, open windows. The soft, crystalline glow of the snow outside reflected against the glass, casting a cool, blue light throughout the room. Fresh, crisp air drifted in through the open panes, filling the room with the scent of winter—clean, pure, and invigorating.

The centerpiece of the room was an exquisite ice glass table, its surface smooth and glistening. It was shaped in a perfect circle, almost like the moon itself, and it sat near the grand window, offering a panoramic view of the Winter Court's sprawling grounds. Snow-covered trees stretched as far as the eye could see, and the distant mountains were crowned with frost, standing tall and proud in the winter sky. The soft crunch of snow underfoot could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the occasional call of a bird soaring through the crisp morning air.

Kallias stood by the table, his tall figure framed by the sunlight streaming through the windows. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the coldness of the landscape outside, but it felt so comforting. It was a sanctuary.

Y/n stepped in, eyes wide as she took in the serene beauty of the room. She was still adjusting to being here, still unsure of what to expect. But the peaceful atmosphere seemed to ease her troubled thoughts, if only slightly.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Kallias, who had already moved toward the table, preparing to sit down. He looked back at her, his brow slightly raised, as though expecting her to join him.

“Wait… You’re having breakfast with me too?” Y/n asked, her voice betraying a slight edge of surprise.

Kallias paused, a faint expression of confusion crossing his face. “Yes. Why wouldn't I?”

She shrugged slightly, not wanting to delve too much into the strange discomfort she felt about it. "Shouldn’t you have some more important High Lord things to do? I mean... shouldn't you be dealing with other matters? Running a whole court?"

Kallias didn't miss a beat, his smile warm but firm as he cut her off. “My priority is making sure you’re well. You’re pregnant, alone in a new place, and probably in need of some company. Why wouldn't I stay and keep you company?" He gave a small, almost amused chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, as if the idea of leaving her alone was incomprehensible to him. "I would think this is the least I can do for you.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She was surprised by how matter-of-fact Kallias was about it—how easily he dismissed her discomfort with something so genuine. She didn’t have an answer for him, but she did feel a pang of something in her chest, something warm that slowly began to ease her wariness.

Before she could say anything further, he spoke again, his voice quieter, softer. “You’ve been through a lot, Y/n. And yes, Rhys isn't here. You may feel lonely, I can imagine. But I won’t leave you alone unless you ask me to.”

The mention of Rhys made something tighten in her chest. Her throat constricted as her mind flashed back to the months before—how his absence had felt like a cold void in her life. His distance, the fact that he had retreated into his "duties" and left her with little more than empty promises.

Kallias was right. She had been lonely, even before coming here. But she couldn’t—no, she shouldn’t—talk about that now. So instead, she just shrugged again, her voice faltering as she spoke, though she didn’t realize it. “Well, no... not really,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “He used to... he used to have breakfast with me every morning. But, since my pregnancy... he’s had more important things to do.”

Kallias froze, his hand still hovering near the back of the chair, and for the briefest of moments, his eyes darkened. His expression shifted from curiosity to something harder to define. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and he masked it with a soft, reassuring smile. “More important things...” he repeated, his voice filled with an edge of something she couldn’t quite place.

He stepped forward, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, guiding her toward the table. “Y/n,” he said, his voice low and protective, “you are never an afterthought here. Not by me. You are never a burden or an inconvenience.” His eyes met hers, sincerity written in every word, every glance. “You are a priority. And so is your child.”

Y/n’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest at his words. She had never heard them from Rhys, not since the pregnancy began. She had heard about his ‘important work’ and his ‘obligations.’ She had heard about everything else except her.

Now she knew why.

Kallias pulled out the chair for her, and for a moment, she stood there, uncertain, before taking a seat. The table before her seemed so foreign, but oddly inviting—something about the simplicity of it soothed her in a way she couldn’t explain.

He pushed her chair in gently and moved around to the opposite side, where he seated himself as well. The silence between them felt comfortable, not awkward, and Y/n found herself leaning into it, a small part of her grateful for Kallias' presence.

That little breakfast marked the beginning of a new chapter in Y/n’s life. Her time in the Winter Court, now almost a week into her stay, had transformed from uncertainty to something more comfortable, more familiar. Kallias had seen to it that she was well taken care of. The warmth of the palace, the crisp air outside, and the peaceful surroundings made the months of her pregnancy bearable. Each day felt like a healing step, both physically and emotionally.

Her bump, now at eight months, had grown rounder, more pronounced. It was impossible to ignore, and though it felt heavy at times, there was also a sense of pride that came with carrying this new life inside of her. She was doing this. Alone, yes, but she was doing it. She could handle it. Or at least, she told herself that every morning as she slipped out of bed and prepared for the day.

Kallias had been a constant presence, always checking in on her, offering kind words, and inviting her to walks around the palace grounds. He was thoughtful in a way that made her feel safe, yet distant enough to allow her space when she needed it. He treated her with respect, never prying too much, but always there with a comforting smile when she needed it most.

But beneath the surface of this peaceful life, the nightmares never stopped. They came in waves, uninvited and unwelcome, twisting her mind with their brutality.

Rhysand’s betrayal still haunted her, even here, in this foreign place. There were moments when she would find herself dissociating, her gaze unfocused as her thoughts spiraled. It wasn’t just the constant ache of her loss, but the sudden, unbearable images that would flash before her eyes. Images of that night. Of Rhysand and Feyre in her bedroom, kissing, their bodies pressed together in a way that left no room for doubt. The dream replayed itself in her mind constantly, a sickening reminder of everything that had been ripped away from her.

She would blink, and the memory would vanish as quickly as it appeared, leaving her breathless, her chest tight. She couldn’t escape it. And yet, despite her aching heart, she pretended she was fine. She told herself that she was healing, moving on. Each day with Kallias felt like another layer of protection, a cocoon she’d built around herself to shield her from the past. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t truly healing. She was only pretending, masking the pain.

And Kallias knew. He saw through the facades, though he never asked about the cracks in her armor. His presence was gentle but insistent, like a steady hand on her back, urging her to heal in her own time.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the wounds.

One night, two weeks into her stay in Winter, she woke again to a nightmare.

The dream began like any other—a vision of Rhysand, of their time together, filled with love, tenderness, and hope. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, whispering promises of forever. She felt the warmth of his lips against hers, the love she had once known. It felt real. It felt like him. And for a moment, she allowed herself to believe in the dream—believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be the way they once were.

But then, as always, it turned. It warped.

His face twisted, his eyes cold. The warmth was gone. The love was gone.

“You’re not my mate, Y/n,” he spat, his voice cutting through her like a blade. “Feyre is. She always has been. So why don’t you just leave?”

Her heart shattered, her chest seizing with an unbearable ache as the words echoed in her mind. Why don’t you just leave?

She woke with a jolt, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. The room was too dark, too quiet, and the only thing that kept her grounded was the soft sound of her own ragged breathing. Her hands trembled as she wiped away the sweat from her forehead, trying to calm her shaking body.

But then, she felt it.

Warm arms—strong, steady—slid around her, pulling her against a solid chest. She froze, her heart racing, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Shh, it’s alright,” a soothing voice whispered, low and calm. “You’re safe.”

Y/n blinked, her thoughts hazy as she tried to make sense of what was happening. It took a moment for the fog to clear, and when it did, she saw him—Kallias, sitting beside her on the bed, his chest bare and his hair mussed from sleep. His worried eyes studied her face, his hands gently brushing the sweat-soaked strands of hair from her forehead.

“What... what are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice shaking as she struggled to regain her bearings.

Kallias didn’t answer her immediately, only pulling her closer, his arms tightening around her as if he could absorb the pain she was feeling. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear, a rhythm that she clung to. She could feel the warmth of his skin against hers, but it wasn’t just physical warmth—there was an emotional depth there that made her want to melt into him.

“I felt your pain,” he murmured, his voice thick with concern. “I heard you calling out... shouting. You’re next to my room, and I couldn’t ignore it.”

Y/n blinked again, trying to process his words, the meaning of them, but her thoughts were foggy. He felt my pain?

But the thought quickly slipped away as she focused on the fact that he was here, now. Holding her. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “I... I’m sorry. What was I shouting? What happened?”

Kallias gave her a small, reassuring smile, though his eyes were still heavy with concern. “You were just shouting ‘no,’” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “That’s all.”

Y/n’s chest tightened, but relief flooded her. She hadn’t spoken about Rhys. He didn’t know.

But then, as quickly as the relief came, the memories of the nightmare returned. The cruel words Rhys had spoken—the betrayal, the rejection—tore through her heart again. Her breath caught, and her face crumpled as the tears started to fall. Uncontrollable, heart-wrenching sobs wracked her body as she clung to Kallias, burying her face in his chest.

He didn’t question her. Didn’t ask why she was crying, didn’t ask about Rhys. He just held her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she cried. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, his strong arms never wavering.

Y/n’s chest shook with the intensity of her grief. It felt as though all the pain she had buried, all the hurt she had held inside, was finally being released. She wasn’t alone in this moment. Kallias was there, and he didn’t demand anything from her—he just was there.

She cried for what felt like hours, the weight of everything too much to carry. And when her sobs finally slowed, when the ache in her chest began to lessen, she pulled away slightly, her eyes red and puffy, her face blotchy.

Kallias’ gaze was soft, his worry still there, but now there was a quiet understanding in his eyes.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I’m here, Y/n. I’m here for you.”

And for the first time in months, she allowed herself to believe it. She allowed herself to believe in the comfort he offered, the tenderness, the care.

For now, it was enough.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n didn’t feel invisible.

Snow drifted beyond the frost-lined windows of his study, the icy landscape of Winter Court bathed in a soft morning glow. The beauty of it should have brought him the usual sense of peace. Instead, Kallias found himself staring blankly at the papers in front of him, his mind elsewhere.

Or rather—on someone else.

Y/N.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. It had been a week since she arrived. Two weeks of watching her, observing the way she carried herself—like someone who was trying too hard to appear whole. At first glance, she looked well enough, but Kallias had always been perceptive. And Y/N… she was anything but fine.

She had come to Winter alone. Pregnant and alone.

That fact alone unsettled him.

How could Rhysand allow his supposed mate—his pregnant wife—to travel to another court by herself? If it were his mate, his wife, he would never—never—have let her out of his sight, let alone across Prythian.

The first day she arrived, he had noticed it.

Beneath the heavy cloak, beneath the graceful way she moved, something had been… off. She looked uncared for. Not in the sense that she was unkempt, but in the way a male should care for his pregnant beloved—fussing over her, ensuring her comfort, making sure she felt loved.

Kallias had tried to push the thought away. Surely, there was an explanation. Rhysand wasn’t a fool—he had always been a male who protected what was his. Yet, Y/N was here, alone. No messages from Rhysand. No sign of him even worrying about her absence.

Kallias drummed his fingers against the polished wood of his desk.

There were things he wasn’t being told. He could feel it.

And last night had only confirmed his suspicions.

The memory of her nightmare was still fresh in his mind—the frantic pull in his chest that had woken him, the way he had found himself running to her door before he even realized what he was doing. Her shouts, her fear. He had felt it like a blade to the ribs.

And when he found her, drenched in sweat and tears, sobbing into his arms…

His jaw tightened.

It had taken everything in him not to stay. Not to hold her until morning, until he knew for certain she would be all right. But she wasn’t his. She had never been his.

If only she knew.

If only she had ever noticed him properly before.

Kallias let out a low, bitter chuckle, shaking his head at himself. Pathetic. After all these years, the feeling had never truly left, had it? Even when he was barely a young High Lord, he had felt it—that pull toward her, the way she lit up every room she entered. She had been his first quiet longing, his other half, even before he fully understood what it meant. But she had already belonged to someone else.

And now, here she was, in his court, in his home, carrying another male’s child.

Kallias clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes for a moment.

He would not make a fool of himself. He would not fail her. She had come here, had chosen his court for her solace. He would be the sanctuary she needed—nothing more.

“Dare I ask what’s making you scowl like that?”

Kallias opened his eyes to find Marek, his second-in-command, watching him with raised brows, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. The male stood across the desk, setting down a stack of reports.

“Nothing,” Kallias said coolly, straightening in his seat.

Marek gave a skeptical hum before sitting in the chair opposite him. “Right. Nothing. Which is why you’ve been glaring at your desk like it personally offended you.” He exhaled, leaning back. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the High Lady of Night, would it?”

Kallias stiffened slightly but kept his face impassive. “She is a guest in my court.”

“She is a pregnant guest in your court,” Marek corrected, studying him. “Alone. Without her partner. Which, frankly, is something I didn’t think I’d ever see.” He shook his head. “Strange, isn’t it? That the great Rhysand would let his beloved travel alone, stay alone—especially now.”

Kallias remained silent, his fingers curling slightly against the desk.

Marek wasn’t wrong.

“That surprises you too, doesn’t it?” Marek pressed, tilting his head.

Kallias exhaled through his nose, glancing out the window before finally speaking. “I won’t pretend to understand the affairs of another court,” he said carefully. “But yes. It is… unexpected.”

Marek studied him for a moment before his lips twitched. “You’ve been softer lately.”

Kallias turned back to him, brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”

Marek smirked, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Since she arrived, you’ve been… different. Softer.” His voice was laced with amusement.

Kallias scoffed. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, am I?” Marek drawled. “Because last I checked, you don’t usually look at guests like you’re ready to tear apart whatever put that sadness in their eyes.”

Kallias tensed but masked it with a blank stare. “You’ve had too much wine.”

Marek only chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe I just see what you refuse to admit.”

Kallias gave him a pointed look. “Enough.”

Marek’s smirk widened, but he raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Back to business.” He slid a set of documents across the desk. “The plans for the new army base. You wanted to review the latest designs.”

Kallias exhaled, pushing aside the weight in his chest. “Good. Let’s go over them.”

Marek didn’t say another word on the matter, but the knowing gleam in his eyes remained.

And even as Kallias turned his attention to the documents before him, a single truth echoed in his mind—one he was desperately trying to ignore.

He was getting too close to her.

And he didn’t know if he could stop.

It started during a healer’s visit.

The Winter Court had its own healers, and Kallias, in his quiet, careful way, had made sure that Y/N had regular check-ups. He never pushed too hard, never insisted she take the treatments, but the way he made sure things were taken care of spoke volumes.

Today, he was sitting by the large window of her quarters, papers scattered across the table in front of him, though his attention kept drifting toward her. She hadn’t been feeling her best recently—more tired than usual, more distant—but the sight of him nearby always seemed to soothe her.

The healer, a soft-spoken male named Hesperos, was gentle and methodical in his examination, pressing his warm hands to Y/N’s swollen belly, murmuring soothing words of a spell. The healing magic rippled through her, a cool, peaceful energy.

“The baby is strong. Healthy,” Hesperos said with a smile. Y/N exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing.

Kallias, however, didn’t smile. His focus remained unwavering, but something about the way he was sitting, so quietly intense, made Y/N feel as though he was seeing through her. She didn’t know why it felt that way.

She smiled at the healer, her voice soft. “Thank you, Hesperos. I feel much better after every visit.”

Hesperos gave a warm chuckle. “It’s our job to make sure you do, my lady.”

But then, his expression shifted. He blinked, his hands pausing over her stomach. Y/N’s gaze flicked between him and Kallias, her stomach tightening slightly at the sudden tension in the room.

“Is something wrong?” Y/N asked, her voice shaking just a little.

The healer seemed almost uncertain, glancing at her before looking toward Kallias. His gaze lowered, his hands falling back to his sides. “My lady… I need to ask… Have you been under any extreme stress lately? Or emotional strain?”

Y/N blinked, frowning. “Stress?” she echoed, forcing a laugh. “I mean, of course, I’ve been tired lately, but—”

“No, it’s not just the fatigue,” Hesperos interrupted gently. “This is something more than simple exhaustion. I’m detecting some… emotional strain.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, her mind racing. She quickly shook her head, a forced chuckle escaping her lips. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve been resting well here. I haven’t been stressed. Everything’s fine.”

But there was a strange, almost skeptical look on Hesperos’s face. He leaned a bit closer, studying her carefully, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “What I’m sensing, it’s the kind of strain we see in those who’ve endured emotional trauma. Perhaps…during or maybe even before the pregnancy?”

A weight settled over her chest. She felt the breath catch in her throat, the room feeling suddenly too small. She could feel Kallias’s eyes on her now, sharp, calculating.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t know how to respond.

The healer, sensing her discomfort, withdrew slightly, his expression sympathetic. “It’s nothing too serious. The baby’s fine. But I would advise you to take some more time to care for your emotional well-being. Take it easy, my lady. Rest, and avoid any unnecessary stress.”

“Of course, of course,” Y/N replied quickly, nodding. “I’ve been resting plenty. I’ll take care of myself.”

Kallias hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t moved either. He was just staring at her, his jaw clenched, his hands folded on the table, his expression unreadable.

Y/N felt her heart race.

She looked away, suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze. She forced herself to look calm, to smile. “Nothing, Kallias. It’s nothing.”

But he wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed slightly, though his voice remained calm. “You’re hiding something from me.”

She shifted uncomfortably. Was this it? Was this where it all ended?

“I’m not hiding anything,” she said quickly, her voice tight. “I’m just… I’ve been through a lot, that’s all. And I’m pregnant.” She shrugged. “It’s normal.”

But he was still staring at her. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion.

Finally, he stood up from the chair. The motion was quick, almost as if he’d made a decision. His expression remained unreadable, but Y/N felt the tension in the air.

He walked toward the door without another word.

“Kallias?” Her voice barely broke the silence.

He paused at the door but didn’t turn around.

She didn’t know why, but she found herself standing, moving toward him. The instinct to reach out, to stop him, was stronger than the part of her that told her to stay still.

But before she could take another step, Kallias turned sharply, his voice cutting through the quiet. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And just like that, he left the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving her in a sea of confusion. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his sudden departure. Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he think she was lying?

Why was he upset?

Y/N stood frozen in place, her heart heavy.

“Why does it feel like he’s mad at me?” she whispered under her breath. “What did I do?”

Her chest tightened with the rush of emotions.

She moved toward the window, staring out at the stark beauty of the Winter landscape, but it wasn’t the frozen scenery that filled her mind. It was him—Kallias’s withdrawn look, his darkened expression, the quiet fury in his eyes.

But maybe he was disgusted by her. Maybe she was too much of a burden. He’d been kind, too kind, and now, with everything she’d been holding inside, she probably had let it slip. He probably didn’t want to be around someone like her.

Just the thought made her stomach turn. She couldn’t hold on to his kindness forever.

Her gaze fell to the door, but just before she could even begin to move towards it, she was stopped by the healer, his expression soft and calm.

“My lady,” he said gently, his eyes full of understanding, “please, you can’t be running around with a belly like that.” He gestured to the comfortable chair by the window, urging her to sit back down. “Rest for now.”

Y/N nodded silently, sinking into the chair with a sigh. She was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally… physically.

But even as she closed her eyes and tried to push away her thoughts of Kallias, her mind kept returning to him. His departure had felt like something more than just irritation.

Was he disgusted by me?

Did he hate me now?

I’ve pushed him too far.

She closed her eyes tight, unable to stop the tears that pricked at her eyelids.

He barely felt himself move as he stormed out of the room.

His mind was spinning, his pulse roaring in his ears like a blizzard. The healer’s words echoed over and over again in his head.

Extreme stress. Emotional strain. Trauma.

And then—before the pregnancy.

Kallias’ hands curled into fists as he raced down the halls of his palace, his heart slamming against his ribs. His thoughts were a whirlwind, pieces snapping together, his worst suspicions solidifying into a devastating truth.

She wasn’t just struggling because of the pregnancy.

She had been suffering long before she ever arrived in Winter.

Kallias knew. He knew.

A growl ripped from his throat as rage flooded his veins. His magic surged, ice crackling at his fingertips as he barely managed to contain the violent storm building within him.

He wouldn’t contain it.

Not this time.

Not when she had been suffering in silence, not when she had been left like this, abandoned and alone, with his child growing inside her while she silently broke apart.

The halls blurred around him as he winnowed in a snap of ice-cold wind, the world bending to his fury.

The wards around the townhouse shattered the moment Kallias appeared.

The sheer force of his arrival cracked the air like a thunderclap, shaking the very foundations of the house.

Rhysand’s inner circle was gathered in the sitting room, locked in a heated argument, voices overlapping in tension and frustration.

“I can’t believe you—” Mor was snarling at Rhys, her hands clenched at her sides.

“She deserved better than this, Rhys,” Azriel’s voice was colder than night, his wings flaring slightly as he stood rigidly beside Cassian.

Feyre’s voice was tight. “I didn’t—”

“She probably hates us too because of the shit you dragged us into,” Cassian interrupted, his expression dark with disbelief.

And then, in a blink, the argument halted.

Because Kallias was suddenly there.

The moment he appeared, a bitter chill flooded the room, ice creeping along the floor, frost curling at the windows.

Rhys barely had time to react before Kallias launched at him.

“You little bastard.”

The words were venom, spat through clenched teeth, right before Kallias swung.

The impact was sharp, a solid hit to Rhysand’s jaw that sent him stumbling back. Gasps erupted around them—someone shouted Kallias’ name—but he wasn’t done.

Rhys recovered quickly, eyes flashing pure fury, and retaliated, his power snapping through the air as he tackled Kallias.

Fists flew, the sound of their bodies colliding shaking the very walls of the townhouse. Furniture splintered, ice and darkness clashing violently as Kallias slammed Rhys into the floor, his hands around his throat.

“How dare you,” Kallias seethed, his grip tightening. “How fucking dare you.”

Rhys wrenched free, throwing Kallias off him with a burst of raw power. Kallias skidded across the room, but he was already back on his feet, already lunging again—

Cassian and Azriel intervened.

Cassian caught Kallias, hauling him back with an iron grip, barely keeping him restrained. Azriel stood between them, his expression unreadable but watchful, wings flared wide.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Cassian bellowed, struggling to hold Kallias back.

Kallias didn’t answer. His gaze was still locked on Rhys, both of them breathing heavily, murder in their eyes.

Until his gaze shifted.

Feyre.

She was kneeling beside Rhys, her fingers gently brushing over his jaw, her eyes wide, lips parted slightly in concern.

That was all Kallias needed to confirm everything.

His stomach twisted, something cold and ugly settling in his chest.

His muscles tensed, and he shoved Cassian off him.

“When you saved us all from Under the Mountain,” Kallias said, his voice deadly quiet, his cold blue eyes settling on Feyre, “when I gave you a part of my power… I never thought I would ever regret it.”

A muscle ticked in Rhys’ jaw.

Kallias took a slow step forward, gaze flicking back to him.

“But now, standing here, seeing this ugly, pathetic scene before me, I feel nothing but regret. And disgust.”

Silence.

Feyre’s breath hitched, but Kallias ignored it.

His glare returned to Rhys, who still held his furious, defensive stance, though something uneasy flickered across his face.

Kallias bared his teeth. “Do you even realize what you’ve done to her?” His voice was quieter now, but sharper than shattered ice.

Rhys didn’t answer.

Kallias took another step, his fury rising again.

“If you wanted to break things off, you should’ve done it before putting a child in her. Before making her worry, before leaving her to suffer alone.”

A thick, heavy silence.

Everyone was watching.

Even Amren’s expression was unreadable, her lips pressed into a tight line.

Kallias’ voice rose.

“She has been having episodes where she freezes, clutching her belly and staring into nothing—” He gritted his teeth.“And when I bring her back, when I gently bring her back to the present, do you know what she does?” His laugh was cold. Cruel. “She smiles like nothing happened.”

Rhys’ face remained unreadable.

Kallias’ voice turned into a snarl.

“Do you know she has nightmares every gods-damned night? Almost as if she’s being reminded of your disgusting actions?”

Feyre flinched.

Kallias stepped even closer, furious now.

“And do you know, Rhysand—” His tone was filled with nothing but pure wrath now. “—that she has been doubting herself every moment? She’s been trying to hide it, but it’s killing her. From within.”

Rhys’ expression finally cracked. A flicker of guilt.

Kallias sneered.

And then, his voice dropped into ice-cold steel.

“You better apologize. On your knees.”

His words struck deep, the weight of them suffocating the room.

“Beg for her forgiveness, because you still have a gods-damned faeling on the way, and you best hope you can be a good father—at the very least.”

He took in Rhys’ barely concealed guilt, the tension crushing the room.

And then Kallias turned.

His parting words were quiet, but lethal.

“Because if you aren’t—” he gave one final, piercing glare “—I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your immortal life.”

And with that, he vanished, winnowing away in a gust of frozen wind.

Leaving behind nothing but a chilling silence.

An hour had passed since the healer had left. An hour of pacing, of restless hands wringing together, of her mind spiraling with thoughts she could not untangle.

Kallias was nowhere to be found. She had searched, called his name softly in the empty halls, but there had been no response. And with every passing moment, the worry in her chest grew, coiling tighter and tighter.

So when she finally stepped out of her room, heart pounding, she nearly missed him—almost didn't see him slipping into his own chambers, his hand on the door, about to shut it. But the soft click of her own door opening must have reached him, because he hesitated, head tilting slightly before turning fully to face her.

Their eyes collided.

And the first thing she noticed were the bruises—small but unmistakable wounds marring his otherwise perfect face. Red marks along his jaw. A faint cut near his cheekbone. His lower lip was slightly swollen.

She inhaled sharply.

There was only one being he would have fought like this.

Kallias remained silent, waiting for her reaction, and she sighed as she slowly stepped toward him. His fingers twitched on the door handle, as if torn between shutting himself away or—

The door opened.

Silently.

An unspoken invitation.

Y/N stepped inside, and Kallias shut the door behind her, locking it with a quiet click.

Her gaze flickered around the room—cold and grand, yet undeniably his. The heavy drapes of silver and midnight blue, the dark wooden furniture, the ever-present chill of winter that clung to the air but did not touch her skin. A fire crackled low in the hearth, barely illuminating the carved designs along the high ceiling. It was neat, yet something about it felt untouched. As if no one had lived in it for too long.

When she turned back to him, Kallias was still watching her. Silently. Intently.

She exhaled, shaking her head slightly.

“Do you have any tonics or salves?” she asked, voice softer than she expected.

A slow, almost dazed nod. Then, without a word, he turned and led her toward an adjoining washroom.

She took what she needed—her fingers grazing along the neatly arranged bottles, picking out the ones that would soothe the swelling, heal the cuts. Then, guiding him back to the bedroom, she pressed gently on his chest, urging him to sit at the edge of the bed.

Kallias obeyed.

And when she stepped between his legs, pressing a cloth to his jaw, she felt the way his body stiffened beneath her touch. Not from pain—but from something else entirely.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and charged.

Until finally, she whispered, “I take it you’re aware of the situation now?”

A slow nod. Then, just as softly, he whispered back, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her hand faltered for a second before she resumed dabbing at his jaw.

“What difference would it have made?” she murmured. “You and I… we weren’t that close.”

A mistake.

Because in the next heartbeat, his hand rose—gently but firmly clasping her wrist, halting her movements.

She looked at him, confused, but his grip did not waver.

“If only you ever gave me a chance,” Kallias whispered.

Her breath caught.

“What?”

His eyes burned with something raw, something centuries-old.

“If only you ever looked outside your bubble with Rhysand,” he continued, voice thick with emotion, “and saw me. Saw that I was there for you—heart and soul, every moment, wishing for you to be mine.”

The words slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs.

She stepped back, barely registering the cloth slipping from her hands.

“What?” she repeated, disbelieving.

Kallias stood, not letting her distance herself.

“Do you know what a painful feeling it is to watch your mate be in love and carry another male’s child?” His voice cracked—just slightly. But his expression remained steady, unwavering. “To give her heart to him?”

Her mouth parted, but no words came out.

Mate.

He knew.

He knew.

“You knew I was your mate?” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

A sad, almost broken smile touched his lips.

“I’ve known for nearly two hundred years.”

She felt dizzy.

“I felt it the moment I saw you,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower, more vulnerable. “And since then, I always felt you. Every moment. Every breath. During those fifty years under the mountain, I couldn’t feel you through Amarantha’s magic—but my thoughts were with you. Always with you.”

Her eyes burned.

“And after we were free…” He let out a shuddering breath. “You have no idea how overjoyed I was just to feel you through the bond again.”

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “The moment I was told you were pregnant, I wasn’t surprised. But I was still in pain. The weeks and months after that were no different.”

Y/N’s lips trembled.

“But that night,” Kallias whispered. “That night I felt great pain coming from you. And the next day, I had my reply sent to you.”

Her breath hitched.

“The night I found them kissing,” she murmured in realization.

His expression darkened, rage flickering across his face before he took a steady breath.

“I tried keeping this a secret,” he admitted. “I tried my best, Y/N. But…” His voice thickened with emotion. “I have already hidden this for two hundred years. I can’t do this anymore.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I understand if you need time to process it all,” he whispered. “But please, I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

She didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to respond to this revelation that shattered everything she thought she knew.

“I…” She swallowed hard. “I need time to process. I am… I don’t—I don’t know what to say or do.”

Kallias held her gaze, his eyes filled with something unreadable.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he murmured. “Just be confident in your decision. Whatever it may be.”

She looked away, blinking back the tears.

Then, slowly, she turned toward the door.

She hesitated—just for a moment.

Then left.

And behind her, Kallias stood still in the center of the room, watching her go.

The days passed, but the weight of Kallias’ words did not fade.

If anything, they lingered. Clung to her skin, to her mind, to her soul.

She had not spoken to him about it since that night. Not because she didn’t want to—but because she didn’t know how.

Her mate.

Her mate, and he had known for nearly two hundred years.

She hadn’t known what to do with that information. She still didn’t.

So she had done what she always did. She buried it. She carried on. She let the days slip into nights, avoiding him when she could, enduring the unbearable tension when she couldn’t.

But she felt him everywhere.

Felt him in the way his gaze lingered on her across the dining table. In the way his presence filled the room the second he entered it, like winter itself bending to accommodate his power.

In the way her body, despite her protests, was aware of him.

Kallias, however, did not push.

He did not corner her, did not force her into another conversation about what he had revealed.

But that did not mean the tension between them had lessened. If anything, it had thickened.

And at night, when sleep refused to claim her, her mind would return to him.

How had she never seen it? Never felt it?

The way he looked at her. The way his voice softened ever so slightly when he spoke to her. The way his magic, cool and crisp as fresh snow, had always sought hers.

Rhysand had been her world for so long. She had loved him, given him everything. She had never once thought to look elsewhere.

But now—now, she had to.

And it terrified her.

So when another sleepless night came, when she found herself tossing and turning in her sheets, mind refusing to quiet, she could no longer take it.

A pull.

It tugged at her insides, restless and unrelenting.

She didn’t think. She simply obeyed it.

Throwing back her covers, she slid on a robe over her thin nightgown and padded barefoot out of her room.

The halls were silent, the moonlight casting long shadows along the frost-covered floors.

She didn’t need to wonder where she was going.

She already knew.

Her feet carried her straight to Kallias’ office, the pull within her intensifying the closer she got.

The door was slightly ajar, and when she reached it, she hesitated.

Then, taking a steadying breath, she pushed it open.

He was there.

Sitting behind his grand desk, head buried in documents, the glow of candlelight flickering against his sharp features.

He did not move at first.

But then—he stilled.

As if sensing her.

And when he slowly lifted his head, his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers.

The room suddenly felt too small. Too warm.

And that was when she realized—

She had come in wearing only her nightgown and robe.

A thin nightgown.

One that clung to her, that left very little to the imagination.

His gaze ran over her, darkening as it fell to her now prominent belly, before slowly trailing back up to her face.

She swallowed hard, cursing herself.

His voice was quiet, unreadable. “Y/N.”

She forced herself to clear her throat. Forced herself to hold his stare, despite the way it made her entire body feel like it was burning.

“I…” She inhaled deeply. “I came to ask some questions.”

Kallias did not move. Did not look away.

His gaze remained fixed on her, heavy and waiting.

When she did not immediately continue, he arched a single, silver brow.

“Ask them,” he murmured.

She tried to collect her thoughts, tried to remember why she had come here in the first place.

“Why?” she finally breathed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

His expression did not shift.

But when she kept going, words spilling from her lips in a desperate attempt to understand—

He cut her off.

Smoothly.

Calmly.

“Do you want the answers or not?”

She stopped mid-sentence, mouth slightly parted.

And then—slowly—she nodded.

Kallias rose from his chair.

Her stomach clenched.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he stepped around the desk, rounding it towards her.

His eyes never left her.

With each step he took, he answered.

“I didn’t tell you,” he said, voice low, steady, intense, “because you were in love with another. Because I wanted you to choose me for me, not because fate dictated it.”

Another step.

“I didn’t tell you,” he continued, “because I saw the way you looked at him. And I knew you never looked at me the same.”

Another step.

Closer.

Her breath hitched, but she did not move.

By the time he stopped, they were chest to chest.

She was close enough to see the faint scar above his eyebrow, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold magic always humming beneath his skin.

Her heart pounded.

And when her gaze—without her permission—dropped to his lips, Kallias’ jaw tightened.

“Stop tempting me,” he murmured.

Her breath came unevenly.

“I’m not doing anything,” she whispered.

A low, quiet growl.

“Your existence is enough to tempt me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything you do. Everything you wear. It tempts me.”

She didn’t know what came over her.

Perhaps it was the way his voice had turned rough, husky.

Perhaps it was the way his hands twitched at his sides, as if restraining themselves from reaching for her.

Perhaps it was the way her own body reacted to him, to his closeness, to the sheer, undeniable pull between them.

An urge.

A reckless, uncontrollable urge to kiss him.

Her fingers twitched.

Her breath mingled with his.

His hands fisted at his sides.

But instead—

Instead, she ran.

She took a sharp step back, nearly stumbling over herself as she turned away and hurried out of the room.

She did not stop.

Not when she reached her chambers.

Not when she collapsed onto her bed, heart racing, skin burning.

She did not stop.

But she cursed herself the entire time.

A month.

It had been a month since she had arrived in Winter.

A month since she had learned the truth.

A month since her world had shifted beneath her feet.

And now—

Now, she was nine months pregnant.

Due any day.

Y/N exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to her swollen belly as she gazed across the gardens of ice and snow.

It was breathtaking. A masterpiece of nature and magic intertwined.

Frozen roses glistened beneath the pale sunlight. Delicate trees, their branches coated in frost, stood tall against the clear blue sky. The air was crisp, biting against her skin, but she welcomed the cold.

It grounded her.

Unlike her thoughts. Unlike the turmoil that had been storming within her since that night in Kallias’ office.

Since she had nearly kissed him.

Since she had run.

She had avoided him even more after that. Refused to be alone with him. Refused to give him the chance to speak to her about what had happened.

But it hadn’t stopped her from feeling him.

Hadn’t stopped her from being aware of him every time he was near.

Hadn’t stopped the dreams.

The ones where his voice, husky and low, whispered to her in the darkness.

Where his hands, warm despite his magic, held her.

Where his lips—

She exhaled sharply, cutting off the thought before it could fully form.

No.

No, she wouldn’t think of that.

She couldn’t.

Instead, she focused on the silence around her. The stillness. The temporary peace that came with the gardens.

Until—

She felt it.

Him.

His presence.

A familiar, steady weight pressing against her senses.

The air seemed to shift, thickening with something unspoken.

And then—

Slow, measured steps against the snow.

She knew it was him before she even turned.

And when she did—

Her breath caught.

Kallias strolled into the gardens with an effortless grace that only he possessed.

His white hair gleamed beneath the sun, tousled just enough to make her wonder if he had run a hand through it in frustration. His sharp jawline was dusted with the barest hint of stubble, making him look unfairly handsome.

He was dressed in his usual pristine attire, the elegant fabric emphasizing his powerful frame.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that made her heart stutter.

It was his eyes.

Icy blue, watching her softly.

Unwavering.

She turned away immediately, forcing herself to focus on the frozen roses once more.

She wouldn’t do this.

Wouldn’t stand here and pretend her body didn’t react to his presence.

Wouldn’t pretend her heart didn’t ache with confusion every time she looked at him.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

She tried to leave.

But the moment she took a step forward, his voice—deep, steady, commanding—cut through the air.

"You can't keep running away from everything."

She froze.

Slowly, she turned to face him, her hands tightening around the edges of her robe.

Her lips curled slightly. "I can try."

His expression didn’t change. But something flickered in his eyes.

A mixture of exasperation. And something else. Something deeper.

"You are impossibly stubborn," he murmured, stepping closer.

"And you are impossibly persistent," she shot back, lifting her chin.

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "It seems we have that in common, then."

She pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond.

Kallias took another step, his gaze sweeping over her face, then down to her belly.

She expected him to stop there, but his eyes softened—so much it nearly hurt to look at.

"You're due any day now," he murmured.

Her throat tightened. "I know."

Another step.

Closer.

"Are you well?" he asked, voice quieter. "Do you need anything?"

The sincerity in his voice, in his concern, made her pulse stammer.

She opened her mouth, hesitated, then asked the question that had been clawing at her for weeks.

"Why do you care?"

Kallias blinked.

His brows furrowed slightly, as if the question confused him.

Her throat worked as she swallowed.

"The faeling," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you care for my baby when you know they are from another male?"

Silence.

A beat passed.

Then another.

And then—

Kallias’ expression softened in a way she had never seen before.

Slowly, he stepped closer.

And before she could move, before she could stop him—

He gently grasped her arms.

His touch was careful. Warm.

And when he spoke, his voice was so quiet, so reverent, that she could hardly breathe.

"Because it is not the baby’s fault to have such a father."

Her chest tightened.

"Because none of this is their fault."

Her vision blurred.

"Because they are yours. And that is all that matters to me."

Her breath shuddered out of her.

Something inside her cracked.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.

Kallias’ fingers twitched against her arms.

And then—slowly, hesitantly—he reached up and brushed the tear away with the back of his knuckles.

The touch was light. Barely there.

But it made her stomach flip nonetheless.

She parted her lips, wanting to say something—anything—when—

A throat cleared.

Both of them stiffened.

The moment shattered.

Y/N turned her head—and felt the breath get knocked from her lungs.

Behind the servant standing in the archway of the gardens—

Stood Rhysand.

Her heart stopped.

The servant bowed slightly before addressing Kallias.

"High Lord Rhysand of Night, Your Grace."

The moment the words left the servant’s mouth, Kallias went utterly, dangerously still.

Y/N barely had time to react before Kallias’ arm pressed lightly against her, a silent yet firm movement as he pushed her behind him.

As if shielding her.

As if Rhys was a threat.

Her lips parted, her entire body locking in place as Kallias stepped forward, dismissing the servant without even looking at him.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flickered between them.

Between her.

Between Kallias.

Between where Kallias had moved to shield her.

And in that moment—

In that heartbeat of silence—

She knew.

Everything was about to change.

The air was thick with tension.

Y/N barely breathed as she peeked out from behind Kallias' broad frame, her heart hammering.

Rhysand stood just beyond them, his violet eyes unreadable, his wings tucked in tight, his hands flexing at his sides.

But she saw it.

The hesitation.

The hurt.

The way his gaze flickered—between her, between Kallias, between the space Kallias had deliberately placed between them. Between the connection he clearly saw.

He swallowed, composing himself with a slow inhale before exhaling heavily, his face blanking out.

Finally, he spoke.

"May we…" His voice was quieter than she expected, rough.

A pause.

A hesitation.

He sighed before trying again, voice steadier, though there was something raw beneath it.

"May we have a talk?"

Y/N sucked in a breath.

She felt Kallias tense beside her, his body a solid wall of unwavering strength. His eyes never left Rhys, cold and sharp as ice, watching every move the High Lord of Night made.

But he didn’t stop her.

Didn’t argue when she stepped forward, gently brushing past him.

Still, before she moved completely out of his reach, she turned.

A small, real smile—one just for him.

"Don’t worry," she murmured, holding his gaze. "I need this."

Kallias’ icy blue eyes softened.

A barely-there nod. Understanding.

"I will be nearby," he promised, voice quiet.

But when he turned to Rhys, his gaze hardened, a silent death glare that sent a chill through the air.

Y/N ignored it.

Instead, she led Rhysand a little further away, her posture shifting.

Gone was the hesitance, the uncertainty.

The second she turned to face him again, her entire demeanor changed.

Her voice was sharp. Cold.

"Talk."

Rhysand exhaled, his expression twisting as if it physically pained him to begin.

But he did.

From the start.

From Under the Mountain.

From the moment Amarantha had taken him, from the moment he had felt something shifting deep in his soul, long before Feyre had even arrived to save them.

How he had suspected Feyre was his mate before she had even set foot in that cursed place.

How the bond had begun pulling at him, whispering, nudging, long before she had even known him.

How, during every trial Feyre endured, during every moment of her suffering, his instincts screamed at him—protect her, protect her, protect her.

How, by the time she had finally saved them all, finally broken the curse—

"By then," he murmured, his voice nearly shaking, "I already felt the bond snap into place for me."

Y/N stilled.

A cold, hollow silence stretched between them.

Rhys swallowed.

"So when I arrived back home—to you. To Mor. I already knew."

A sharp, bitter laugh left her lips.

Of course.

Of course.

Her heart clenched, but she smiled—a twisted, cold thing.

"I should’ve known."

Rhys flinched.

"Because you weren’t yourself from the moment you came back."

Her voice wavered, but she didn’t stop.

"Always hesitating to touch me. Always distracted. Always—" She let out another humorless laugh, shaking her head. "I’m surprised I’m even pregnant right now."

Rhys’ jaw clenched, shame clouding his features.

"Y/N—"

"Save it," she snapped.

But he didn’t stop.

He explained everything.

Why he kept disappearing at night.

Why he had been gone for days at a time.

How, when Feyre and Tamlin were about to be wed, the bond had pulled him to her so strongly that he had to interfere—had to take her.

How he had been with her every time he was not with Y/N.

And how he had hidden it.

Lied.

Made her doubt herself.

Her hands curled into fists.

Her voice was softer when she spoke next, but it was far colder.

"All this time," she murmured.

Rhys stilled.

"All this time," she repeated, her voice shaking just slightly, "I had eyes only for you."

Her breath hitched.

"And yet—"

She met his gaze, let him see the truth in her eyes.

"Kallias has been my true mate all along."

Rhysand froze.

His entire body went rigid.

"What?"

A small, cruel smile touched her lips.

"You heard me."

Rhys shook his head slightly, as if trying to process it.

As if he hadn’t even considered it.

"Kallias is my mate," she continued, voice firm.

And this time, she felt it—the truth of the words, settling into her very bones.

Rhys looked… devastated.

"I—" He faltered.

But she didn’t care.

"I understand," she said, voice cold, "that Feyre is your mate."

Her fingers clenched at her sides.

"Because now that I have found my mate—" Her voice wavered. "I know what it feels like."

Rhys opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"But hiding it?" Her eyes burned. "Making me doubt myself? Hate myself? Making me feel like I was losing you because of something I did?"

Her voice cracked.

"I won’t ever forgive you for that."

Rhysand flinched as if struck.

But she wasn’t done.

"But we have a child together."

His gaze snapped to hers.

"At least tell me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "that you will be a good father to them."

Rhys’ lips parted, his expression crumbling.

"Of course," he breathed, "of course, I will—"

But before he could finish, before he could even take a step forward—

Y/N gasped.

Pain. Sharp and sudden.

She clutched her stomach.

Her knees nearly buckled.

"My—" She gasped again, her body tensing.

Rhys’ eyes went wide.

"Y/N?"

"My water—" Her breath hitched. "The baby—the baby is coming!"

Chaos erupted.

Before she could even register what was happening, Kallias was there.

Instant. Immediate.

Rhys barely had time to react before Kallias shoved him aside, reaching for her.

"I’ve got you," Kallias murmured, his arms strong as he lifted her effortlessly into his hold.

She barely registered Rhys following as Kallias carried her inside, barking orders.

Midwives. Midwives were summoned at once, servants scrambling.

She clung to Kallias, her breath sharp, her body burning as the contractions began to intensify.

"I’m here," Kallias murmured against her forehead.

Her vision blurred.

"You’re not alone, starlight."

Rhys followed.

Kallias did not acknowledge him.

Not as he carried her into her chambers.

Not as he lowered her onto the prepared bed.

Not as he whispered, over and over, words only meant for her.

Words of comfort.

Words of devotion.

Words that Rhysand would never say again.

The room was dimly lit, the scent of lavender and fresh linens thick in the air as Y/N lay on the soft sheets, utterly exhausted. But despite the ache in her body, despite the whirlwind of emotions that had led up to this moment, her heart was full—because in her arms lay a tiny, fragile miracle.

Her daughter.

She traced the baby’s delicate features, her small nose, her plump little lips, the faintest dusting of dark lashes against rosy cheeks. She was warm, impossibly tiny, and perfect.

Rhysand sat in the chair beside the bed, unusually silent. He had not left. He had not even tried to. Instead, he was staring at their child with something so raw in his expression that, for the first time in a long while, Y/N saw him not as her betrayer but as a father.

“She has your nose,” Rhys murmured after a long pause, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.

Y/N huffed softly, tilting her head. “But your lips,” she countered, smoothing a thumb over the baby’s pout.

Rhys gave a small, breathless chuckle, his violet eyes bright as he leaned in just a little closer. “And your cheeks. She’s going to be so beautiful, just like her mother.”

For a fleeting second, a warm, nostalgic peace settled between them. An understanding. An unspoken acknowledgment of the life they had created together.

Then Y/N’s expression hardened. “Now that you have a daughter, you better pray she never meets a male like you.”

Rhys inhaled sharply, clearly stung. But instead of responding with guilt, his lips pressed into a determined line, his violet eyes flashing with something fiercely protective. “I would kill any male who ever hurt my princess.” He softened immediately after, gently extending his hands. “May I?”

Y/N hesitated but eventually nodded. She watched as Rhys cradled their daughter in his arms, his touch reverent, as if he were holding something sacred.

He was utterly enchanted, whispering soft words to the little girl, pressing the lightest kiss to her forehead. And for a moment, Y/N could see the father he was meant to be—the father he would be.

But she could not let that soften her resolve.

“I believe by now you know,” she murmured, folding her hands over her lap, “that I will be staying here permanently. With my mate.”

Rhys visibly tensed. His gaze flickered to her, pain swimming in his violet eyes. “Y/N…”

She shook her head, unwilling to hear whatever argument he might have.

Instead, Rhys exhaled sharply, adjusting the baby in his arms. “When she comes to Velaris, you too—”

“Not now.” Y/N cut him off, her voice firm. “I won’t be coming anytime soon.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to protest, but he swallowed it down.

Y/N, however, turned her full attention back to her baby, brushing a finger over her tiny fingers, smiling as they wrapped around hers. In a playful, sing-song voice, she cooed, “But Uncles Cas and Az, and Aunties Mor and Amren—they are always welcome here, aren’t they? Yes, they are.”

Rhys sucked in a slow breath. She saw the way it gutted him, the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. But he nodded. “Of course.”

They spoke a little longer, quietly agreeing on how they would co-parent, what would be best for the child. But when Rhys finally murmured, “Y/N… I am so sorry. And Feyre is also—”

She didn’t let him finish.

“Save it,” she said coldly, her gaze snapping back to his. “You may leave now. You saw the baby. Come back tomorrow, if you will. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

Rhys looked like he had a thousand more things to say, but he only nodded slowly, gently placing the baby back in Y/N’s arms before standing. He hesitated at the door.

“Call Kallias in,” she ordered, her voice unrelenting.

Rhys turned to leave without another word.

And the moment Kallias entered the room, Y/N’s body instinctively relaxed.

He was by her side in an instant, his ice-blue eyes full of nothing but love as he settled beside her, tucking a strand of damp hair from her face.

“She’s perfect,” he murmured, gazing down at the baby. “Just like her mother.”

Y/N exhaled a soft laugh, her lips curving up. And as she looked at him, at his pure, unwavering devotion, she felt a shift deep within herself. A warmth. A certainty.

“I accept,” she whispered.

Kallias stilled, his brows drawing together slightly.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I accept you as my mate, Kal. And I’m so sorry I never paid you the attention you deserved before.”

Kallias blinked, stunned for only a second before his expression softened into something radiant, something home. He reached for her free hand, bringing it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love,” he murmured, cradling both her and their child in his arms. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek, but for the first time in months, it was not from pain.

Kallias leaned down, brushing a feather-light kiss to her lips. It was slow, lingering, full of unspoken promises.

When he pulled away, he smirked, his thumb tracing circles along the back of her hand. “Get well soon, my beautiful High Lady. I have a coronation to plan for you.”

Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh.“You seriously would do that?”

He only grinned. “You deserve it. The Night Court never deserved you.”

Y/N’s heart clenched, and she leaned into him as he cocooned her and their daughter in his arms.

Kallias pressed another kiss to her temple and whispered, “But before that… our mating ceremony.”

Y/N giggled softly, curling into him.

Home.

She had finally found home.

----------------------------------------------------------

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[slytherin-pen]

Diplomacy Be Damned

pairing: Kallias x Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: some fighting, burn injury, Kallias loses his temper to defend you, Beron being Beron

a/n: dipping my toes into writing about Kallias. i need to read up on some headcannons since we have so little canon info about him. dug this one out the drafts lmao

The halls of the Winter Court glistened with ethereal beauty. Walls carved from ice, crystalline chandeliers dripping with frozen jewels that caught and refracted the faint glow of faelight. The chill in the air was familiar, comforting even, though it did little to ease the tension rising in the room.

The High Lords had gathered again to discuss the threat of Koschei. And as always, it felt like sitting in the eye of a storm.

You sat quietly beside Kallias, your mate, the bond between you a steady hum under your skin, a thread of warmth woven through the cold. His hand brushed yours subtly, an anchor amidst the political currents swirling around the grand table.

Beron was speaking.

Of course, he was.

You had the displeasure of sitting near him, Kallias and one of his sons were all that was between you. On your right sat Thesan and Tarquin with their respective councils. The Inner Circle, Helion, and an empty spot for Tamlin across from you. The large circular table made of ice was designed with the much-needed space that was necessary for these tumultuous meetings in mind. Usually, Autumn would be positioned on the same side as Night, but with Lucien Vanserra’s new position as their emissary you convinced Kallias to rearrange the seating chart so the poor male did not have to sit near the male who caused him so much suffering, and instead next to his true father. You were reconsidering that moment of compassion now.

Arrogant and venomous, Beron’s words were dripping with condescension as he spoke of sacrifices and violence with the casual cruelty only the Autumn Court’s High Lord could master. You saw the way Kallias’ jaw tightened, the faint narrowing of his eyes, the only signs of his control slipping.

Across the room, Feyre Archeron sat beside High Lord Rhysand, her posture rigid, and nails tapping rhymically against the table as Beron’s smug remarks continued. You could see it in her eyes, she was losing her patience with him, as was everyone else in this room.

“If Koschei wants the Archeron witch so badly, I say let him have her,” Beron drawled with a flourish of his hands. “There’s no sense in going to war over one useless female.”

A burst of flames shot across the room, wild and uncontrolled. It was meant for Beron. You knew that. Everyone knew that.

But Feyre had still not yet mastered her aim, and you were sitting in its path.

The searing heat hit you before you could react, fire licking across your shoulder, burning through the layers of fabric, biting into flesh. A sharp, involuntary cry escaped you as pain erupted and you fell backward out of your chair.

The room exploded into chaos.

Kallias’ reaction was immediate, his power blowing an icy wind that extinguished the remaining flames. The chill of his power was a different kind of sting, but an improvement nonetheless. He helped you rise, his hands on your waist as he sat you down in his chair. You gazed up at him to tell him it was alright, to just adjourn the meeting for a moment until you saw his face.

Fury.

Uncontained, unrelenting fury.

His eyes blazed with a rage colder than the harshest winter as he turned on Rhysand and Feyre, his power crackling in the air like a blizzard ready to consume.

“What were you thinking?” His voice was a snarl, low and dangerous, ice creeping across the marble floor like the tide rising at a beach.

Rhysand rose, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, but there was a readiness in his stance. “It was an accident—”

“An accident?” Kallias roared, his magic lashing out, frost racing across the walls, shards of ice falling from the ceiling and crashing onto the table. “She burned my mate!”

You tried to stand, the pain sharp and unyielding, but Kallias was already at your side again, lowering you back down to the seat. His breath came fast, uneven, his fury battling with fear. The smell of your charred flesh permeated the room, even Lucien across the table wrinkled his nose at the all too familiar scent.

Beron, ever the viper, chuckled darkly from his seat. “Seems the High Lady still can’t control her temper. At least it wasn't my wife this time.”

That was all it took.

Kallias and Rhysand lunged.

Power collided—ice, darkness, and fire. Winter’s wrath and Night’s might against the burn of Autumn. Beron blocked Kallias’ strike with a shield of fire, but the sheer force sent shockwaves through the hall, cracks spiderwebbing across the floor. Rhysand’s darkness engulfed Beron, snuffing out his flames.

“Enough!” Helion shouted, stepping between them, his golden power radiating as he formed a shield around everyone else.

But Kallias wasn’t listening. He could only think to protect, avenge, defend. His magic surged again, colder than death itself, as he bared his teeth.

“Kallias,” you managed to rasp, your voice raw from both the pain and the rising fear of what he might do.

He froze.

Then he was in front of you, dropping to his knees, cradling your face in his hands. His fury didn’t vanish—it was there, sizzling beneath the surface—but his focus shifted entirely to you.

“Hold on,” he whispered, his voice ragged with emotion. “I’ve got you.”

With a burst of his power, he winnowed you both away, the freezing air swallowing the sound of shouts and curses from the meeting room.

He had taken you to your shared chambers, the familiar scent of fir trees and eucalyptus wrapped around you like a comforting cocoon.

Kallias didn’t waste a moment. He led you to the edge of the bed to sit and carefully peeled away the burnt fabric. The sight of the angry, blistered skin made his breath hitch. He strode into the washroom to retrieve healing supplies before returning to your side. His fingers hovered above the wound, trembling slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as if it were his fault. “I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” you assured, wincing as he dabbed a cool cloth over the burn, the chill both soothing and sharp.

But Kallias didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw, his eyes shadowed with guilt as he worked. He was meticulous, his hands gentle, as if he feared hurting you more.

After delicately applying healing salves to the burns and wrapping them with a bandage, he sat beside you, his head in his hands.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, it just tingles now. The salves are working.”

He released a sigh of relief. Then, softly, “When I saw you fall…” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “I’ve faced war and impending death, but nothing has ever terrified me like that.”

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

His grip tightened, pulling you into his arms with a desperation that made your heart ache. He held you as if you might disappear, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“I don’t ever want to feel that again,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You pressed a kiss to his temple, feeling his tension slowly ease. “You won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

[geniemillies]

is this your high lord??

these were supposed to be for my friend but i thought i'd share it so here you go, some shitpost doodles of hls 🫶

tamlin in that meeting:

unapologetically

no explanation..

AND A NESTA- because she reminded me of the caption..

[pegasus-anarchy]

POV: You propose Rhysand should be High King.

[eklaize]

"His eyes closed to just feel. Snippets of verse floated through his mind.  

In the columned halls, we embrace

His cheek rests against mine  

Happiness like this comes once

in a thousand years"

Captive Prince by C.S.Pacat

Erasmus and Kallias, our tragic lovers.

[ladydeath-vanserra]

Kallias and Viviane let Rhysand off the hook a little too easy about the Winter Court children. They're just supposed to believe it was another Daemati when Rhysand was tormenting them all UtM and Rhysand couldn't even provide the name of this other Daemati? All this evidence against him and they just believe his word? just like that?

[laur-the-cat-prince]

[really-fanny-longbottom]

a song of darkness & ice

summary: azriel finally found the one for him but some things never go as planned. the good news? happy endings are real.

warnings: fluff, mentions of death, grieving

pairings: azriel x reader

words: 3.5k

"azriel."

azriel was doing it again. 

he was looking at you once again like he had for the past two years.

but it wasn't his fault.

"azriel."

how could it be his fault?

how could he not look at you when you were the most beautiful female his hazel eyes had ever seen? 

"azriel."

how could he not look at you when every time you smiled at him or laughed at something he said his heart erupted? 

how could he not look at you when you were his first thought when he woke up and his last before falling asleep? 

"azriel!"

"huh?" azriel asked with his eyes still focused on you.

rhys and cassian couldn't contain the chuckles that escaped them.

what they were seeing was a rare sight. they had never seen their brother act this way.

not once.

rhys and cassian were well aware of how hard azriel could be on himself, how undeserving he felt he was of genuine love and true happiness.

even though the two of them had assured azriel multiple times that he was more than worthy — that his past didn't define him — he still had some trouble believing it. 

since they were children, azriel has always been the quiet, reserved, and introverted one.

with the exception of his relationships with the inner circle and now with the archeron sisters, all his other relationships had been only in passing — mainly with females.

cassian and rhys knew how much azriel wanted to find his mate, especially now that both his brothers had theirs.

but his interest in females never lasted. It never went beyond the interest of a casual night. there was never anyone who made him wish for something more.

until now.

until you show up. 

you turned azriel's world upside down along with his perspective on life.

before, the simple and basic things in life didn't impress him — for him they were nothing more than futile things. 

but now. . .since you came into his life, azriel has found himself appreciating those same things that he thought had no value or importance not so long ago.

it's as if you were the missing piece in his puzzle.

and now that he found you, his life had more color, more life and more meaning.

he couldn't be more grateful that the Mother guided him to meet you. the only thing he was sorry for was that it had taken so long.

"azriel." cassian said, placing a hand on the male's arm.

finally, azriel removed his hazel eyes from you and met his brother's "what?"

azriel saw that both of his brothers were looking at him with big smiles on their faces and with looks that he knew all too well. "what is it?" 

"i'm afraid you're in love, brother." rhys told him as he took a sip of his whiskey.

"what? what the hell are you talking about?" he questioned with his eyebrows furrowed.  

"oh please, don't act like you don't know, az. you spent the whole night looking at y/n." cassian said with amusement in his voice.

"i don't know what you're talking about, cass" azriel ignored his brothers' laughter and got up from the sofa to approach the table to refill his glass.

as he drank from his glass, he felt the alcohol burning his throat as his eyes searched the room for you again. 

but truth to be told, his eyes didn't even have to scan the room to find you. 

you had changed seats since the last time he looked at you, now, you were at the foot of the appetizer table while talking to your brother.

he finally had the perfect view of your dress and as always you looked beautiful.

just like the first time he saw you.

the day he met you was without a doubt in second place of his favorite days — he was saving the first place for the day he would gain the courage to ask you for a date and you would say yes. 

azriel met you during a meeting — a meeting he didn't even want to go to but changed his mind at the last minute. thanks to the mother for that. 

rhys, along with cassian and azriel, went to the winter court for a meeting with your older brother — kallias.

the night court was trying to strengthen their alliances with all the other courts after the events of under the mountain. 

the courts were still fragile and their high lords were suspicious, especially kallias and his court, but no one could judge them. after all, they were the ones who suffered the greatest loss of all.  

kallias took advantage of the meeting to give them a guided tour of his court. 

the visit began in the ice palace with the colors blue, white and gray predominating, large diamond chandeliers hung in the throne room and ballroom, snowflake-shaped faelights illuminated the rooms and sofas covered in soft fur offered comfortable seats.

then they went to the frozen garden with its frozen lake for skating and a greenhouse with its flowers preserved by the cold.

next it was time for the cold forest where they saw several foxes, wolves, reindeer and rabbits with their white fluff and people moving by sleds on the path that led to the city and finally the polar bear caves.  

the caves were a thirty-minute walk from the palace and their entrances were located on the wall of the mountain and had to climb a path to get there. 

down here, they had a large area of land for the bears to roam around with an unfrozen river on the northside that provided them with unlimited fish for food. on the far side, near the trees, there was a hut where the bears' armor was kept. 

azriel counted more than twenty bears that were there when he and his brothers arrived, not counting those that were still inside the caves. 

his favorite part was the cubs playing with each other and the ones trying to catch fish in the river. 

he also saw some people — no doubt soldiers by their uniforms — training bears who had their copper armor on. 

kallias was in the middle of explaining the bears' armor, saying that those who wore copper were because they had just begun their training when a loud and powerful roar sounded through the air which made the trees vibrate and the ground shake. 

silence fell around the place and after a few seconds, azriel heard a guard shout "it's the princess!"

guards began to run towards the gate that was located on the opposite side of the river to prevent intruders from entering and began to pull the levers.

in the distance, a large white figure emerged, getting closer by the second — it was a bear in silver armor and a matching helmet — and on top of the bear, was you.  

the gate was still being opened by the time you got close to it and without wanting to wait, the bear jumped through the gate making a perfect landing on the inside and scaring the guards into falling to the ground in the process. 

"always showing off" kallias murmured at the entrance that his little sister had just made. 

rhys, cassian and azriel were too busy looking at you and the bear to laugh at the high lord's words.

everybody was. all eyes were on you. the guards had stopped, the soldiers had stopped, even the three members of the night court had found it impossible not to look at you.

especially a certain shadowsinger. when he saw you and your bear, a shiver went down his back. 

this bear was incomparable to the others. it was the biggest bear they had ever seen and without a doubt it was the strongest. 

the bear's legs were about the same size as an adult male. It was amazing.

azriel noticed the insignia that was stamped on the bear's helmet. "what does that mean?" 

"that's mal. she is the leader of the bears and the insignia marks her as such." kallias replied with a smile directed at you. 

the four males had to take several steps back to allow the bear to pass and they both had to look up to see you with your own armor that matched the bear's. 

they saw you dismount from the bear and she lowered herself to allow you to reach the ground.

when you landed safely, you turned around to come face to face with your bear and when she lowered her head, you placed a kiss there followed by a "good job, mal. take a rest, i'll see you tomorrow."  

mal made a small grunt in response and nuzzled her head against you before moving forward and going to the guards to have her armor removed. 

you started walking towards the males while taking off your gloves and kallias giving orders for everyone to summarize their work. 

as soon as you got close enough, you greeted them "brother. handsome illyrian males that i never seen before." 

kallias rolled his eyes at the same time as the three males laughed "don't you mean 'hello, high lord of the night court?"

you smiled at your brother's words and held out a hand for rhys to shake, "hello, handsome high lord of the night court."  

and for the first time in prythian history, rhys blushed. cassian and azriel widened their eyes at the sight of their blushing brother, never had they witnessed such a thing.

"princess," rhys greeted after clearing his throat a little embarrassedly "this is cassian, my general,"

"princess," he shook your hand and gave you a small nod of his head with a smile.

"handsome general” your smile widened at the laugh he let out. 

"and this is azriel, my spymaster."

when you moved to stand face to face with the hazel-eyed male, his breath caught in his throat.

you were unbelievably beautiful. as if you were sculpted by the mother herself. 

you looked a lot like kallias. the same hair, the same eyes and the same nose but you had something that he didn't have — gracefulness.

the moment your eyes met each other, they locked and neither you nor the male in front of you dared to look away.

"what's going on?" kallias asked in a whisper, not liking the way you two looked at each other. 

upon realizing what exactly was happening, rhys placed a hand on kallias' shoulder and the two males walked away with cassian right behind them with a smile on his face. 

you could hear rhys in the distance asking more about bear armor to keep your brother busy. 

without ever breaking eye contact, azriel took your hand and said to you "my princess," before giving you a kiss on it.

"pretty azriel," you replied back with your eyes still locked on the male's.

azriel blushed so much that he could feel his cheeks warm. 

you cleared your throat and assumed a relaxed expression again and with an ironic smile you asked the blushing male "so you are the famous shadowsinger," with a nod from him, you continued "do you sing?" 

"what?" he felt taken by surprise. never in the five hundred years of his life had anyone asked him such a thing.

"you are a shadowsinger. do you sing to your shadows?" 

azriel didn't know what to say.

"for example, if you want them to bring you something, you sing a melody, but if you want them to attack someone, you sing a melody. . . more aggressive?" 

there was a minute of silence, two and then. . . azriel's laughter filled the air around you.

azriel still remembers how much he laughed that day. no one had ever made him laugh like that. he laughed until his stomach hurt and some tears escaped his eyes. 

that's how it all started.

he could hardly believe that two years had passed since that day.

one of the happiest he's ever had.

what Azriel didn't know was that at the sound of his laughter, rhys and cassian exchanged looks, knowing exactly that you were the one for him. 

after asking him those questions, you invited him to drink iced tea, which, to azriel's surprise, he really liked. 

azriel visited you a few times after that until you were the one visiting the night court when your brother finally relented.

when you found out that cassian was training the valkyries, you joined the group.

the day after you joined training, the spymaster volunteered to help train the valkyries. coincidence? of course not. 

you stayed at the house of the wind, giving you and azriel the opportunity to build a beautiful friendship. 

a friendship that azriel always wished would become something more. 

you flirted with each other, you went out just the two of you, you always sat next to each other and you were the first pair to dance at last year's starfall. 

there was just one problem.

a few nights ago, after a night of games, you and azriel remained in the living room while the others retired to sleep.

the conversation flowed while you drank wine and laughed, but it was then that azriel decided to take the next step, whether it was the wine that gave him courage he doesn't know.  

when he approached with the intention of kissing you, you moved away.

you quickly apologized and fled to your room, leaving a very confused azriel.

since then, azriel had gone through every moment with you in his head trying to understand what had gone wrong.

did he misread the signs? could it be that there weren't even signs and he imagined them? 

he drank his whiskey in one gulp and turned to refill it, when azriel turned around again, you were no longer there.

kallias was now sitting next to viviane with one hand on her growing belly. 

when searching the entire room, azriel didn't see a single sign of you. 

it was then that he walked forward and caught your figure on the balcony enjoying the stars and the gentle night breeze. 

azriel wanted nothing more than to join you but with your behavior the last few days, he didn't want to exceed your limits. 

it was at that moment that azriel realized. if he really had crossed your boundaries that night when he tried to kiss you, then he needs to apologize. 

when his hand grabbed the handle of the door leading to the balcony, azriel noticed that it was shaking and had to take a few deep breaths to calm his pounding heart. 

without further hesitation, azriel opened the door and closed it behind him again.  

when you didn't move, not even to look back, azriel approached the balcony wall until he was next to you and as soon as he did he hid his shaking hands in his pockets.

the two of you remained silent for a moment, enjoying the view of the city that shone under the stars and the gentle breeze that traveled through your bodies.

azriel was the first to say "i wanted to apologize for the other night," at the sound of his voice, you turned to look at him and he did the same "i shouldn't have tried to kiss you. i overstepped your limits and i'm sorry." 

you remained looking at him and without giving him an answer, you turned your attention to the city again.

assuming you weren't going to talk to him, azriel turned his back and started to make his way back into the house.  

"you didn't do anything wrong." your voice intertwined with the breeze and made the hazel-eyed male stop in his tracks. 

with his back still facing you, you proceeded "i wanted to kiss you and that's what scared me" your voice was shaking and azriel noticed that, which was the reason he faced you. 

you took a deep breath and after calming your heart, you finally revealed the truth "these last few days," you took a step forward "i wasn't ignoring you and I'm sorry if it seemed like i was. i just needed time to be able to think about how to tell you."

"tell me what?" the male's voice came out just a little louder than a whisper. 

you hesitated and your heart started racing again, reaching azriel's ears, but you didn't let that stop you from continuing.

"i'm not your mate, azriel," pain and suffering appeared on your features in the face of this new revelation "and a bond will never snap between us."

"how do y-"

"because i lost my mate fifty-two years ago," tears came to your eyes but you didn't let them fall, "he died to save me."  

azriel approached you and took your hands in his, encouraging you to continue. 

"his name was malik." 

"malik?" azriel asked you, "like mal?"  

a weak smile appeared on your lips "yes. mal was my nickname for him. he was fascinated by polar bears and his dream was to one day be able to see one." 

the smile disappeared, and you moved your eyes away from azriel's before speaking again "i met him one evening when i tried to sneak out of the palace so that i wouldn't have to attend another ball. when i tried to climb down the ice wall of the palace, i ended up slipping and falling right on top of him." you laughed at the memory, azriel joined you.

"he was a soldier in training and was on patrol when i fell. a rumor spread that he had saved me from an 'accidental fall' and kallias appointed him as my personal guard as a thank you." 

"we fell in love and a few months after we started our relationship, our mating bond snapped," you began to caress your ring finger and for the first time azriel noticed a barely noticeable ring mark "after i accepted the bond, it didn't take him long to ask me to marry him."

"i'm so sorry." azriel told you while passing a hand through your hair to give you some comfort.

your face became sadder and your voice weaker and quieter "he's the reason i didn't die when amarantha's creatures invaded my court. he was the one who got me out of the palace and took me to viviane safely." 

"when we were arriving at the camp that viviane established, a large group of those creatures appeared. without thinking twice, he pushed me into viv's arms and ordered her to get me out of there." your voice cracked and you needed a few seconds to compose yourself.

"i tried to get viv to let go of me but she didn't. a few moments later i saw him fall," your eyes returned to azriel, "he didn't get up."

tears now flowed freely down your cheeks "i felt the bond disappearing and my heart splitting in two. when the creatures were gone, i went back there and buried him," you wiped away some of the tears, "he never saw a polar bear." azriel's heart ached in hearing your words. 

"after him, i never had any interest in being with anyone again. until you show up." 

Surprise flashed across azriel's eyes, he wasn't expecting to hear this. 

"what?"

"i tried so hard not to fall in love with you these last two years but failed completely." 

a smile formed on the shadowsinger's face and he moved closer to you with his hands finding their places on your cheeks. 

"what made you hold back?" he asked quietly.

"your job," seeing the shock on his face, you rested your hands on his wrists and explained, "your job is dangerous, azriel. i already lost the male i loved once and i refuse to go through another pain like that." 

azriel's heart tightened knowing that the reason you didn't like his job wasn't because of what he had to do but because of the fact that it could cost you the most important thing to you — him.  

"you won't lose me." azriel assured you.

"you don't know that." 

"you're right. I don't, but i promise," he held you a little tighter to let you know how honest he was being, "i promise that whenever i leave for a mission, i will always and i mean always do everything i can to come back to you. i promise."

you both smiled at the feeling of the tattoo being formed on azriel's forearm and on your rib. 

6ou were too involved in the moment that you weren't even curious about the shape of the tattoos that linked you for the rest of your lives.

a promise that azriel would do anything to never break it.

as concern filled your eyes, azriel caressed your cheeks with his thumbs before asking you what was bothering you. 

"what about your mate? i know how much you want one." azriel could hear your heart beating unevenly.

the smile returned to his lips and in a long time, azriel finally knew what he wanted "i don't want a mate. i don't want a mating bond. i just want you."

the rush of his heartbeat reached your ears and it comforted you to know that you weren't the only one nervous. 

"then i'm yours."

and with a kiss beneath prythian's brightest stars, your love was sealed.

a/n: thank you for reading!

masterlist

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @lively-potter @meul-a @mrsjna @avajustreads @littlelou22 @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[ourhighladysarahjmaas]

[lifeisabiscuit]

My personal ranking of Acotar males from favorite to least favorite

1. Lucien (The goat. I would die for him. He deserves better, even from my #2)

2. Tamlin (My sweet traumatized baby. They just don't understand you. Free him from the narrative)

3. Tarquin (The best high lord. I wish he would have stayed petty and not taken back the blood rubies)

4. Kallias (I wish he would have stood on business and not let Rhysand lie about the winter children but I love the way he loves Vivianne)

5. Eris (He intrigues me and I'm choosing to believe he wasn't involved in any real harm to my baby Lu)

6. Thesan (Neutral like him. Wish he would have controlled the meeting in his court better but he's not a bad dude. Love that he showed up holding his lovers hand. Show him off my dude)

7. Jurian (He has his moments. I don't dislike him. Glad Lucien has a friend.)

8. Helion (Refusing to help Tamlin (I don't think he even tried) and being friends with Rhysand all along, earns him this spot.)

9. Azriel (Ranked higher than the other bat boys because he is sometimes a good friend to Nesta and stands up to the dictator- I mean Rhysand- sometimes.)

10. Varian (Traitor.)

11. Rhysand (Never trust a manipulative abuser, who threatens everyone he doesn't like, just because he cries but never apologizes. But he does at least love his mate unlike SOMEone)

12. Cassian (Rhysands little bitch boy. Questioning why Nestas sisters still love her, laughing when she fell down the stairs, telling a depressed female that everyone hates her because she said Rhysand was an asshole (he is), the ick that is forcing his tongue in the mouth of a girl who was just assaulted by the kelpie, his weird relationship with Mor, the sexualizing of Nesta (shes gaunt and rail thin but look at those tiddies🙄🤢), the punishment hike, never saying he loved Nesta and never standing up for his mate would earn him the bottom spot if the last 2 weren't really bad. Convinced he doesnt even like Nesta, he just wanted a mate.)

13. Keir (For what he did to Mor and what he does and let's happen in Hewn city. Evil man)

14. Beron (Abuses his wife and children. He did bring up good points at the HL meeting but that does not forgive the abuse to LOA and sons and killing Jessminda)

Shout out to Andras for being the best boy

(If you love any of the characters I do not, I love that for you and respect your differing opinions. Different strokes for different folks and all that. I also didn't include every man/male in the books because alot of them are unnamed or I just don't care about them enough lol)

[moonlitstoriess]

Unseen, Unheard, Unloved- Initial Rhysand, Eventual Kallias x fem!Reader EPILOGUE

Summary: She had given him everything—her heart, her trust, and now, the child growing within her. But as Rhysand’s attention drifts elsewhere, as excuses pile up, and as whispers of a mortal girl turn into something far more dangerous, she begins to wonder: Was she ever truly seen? Was she ever truly heard? Or had she been unloved all along?

See masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: soo here is the long awaited small epilogue! I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you for all the lovely comments on this mini-series <3

Warnings: and they lived happily ever after

The last few months had been… different. A life she once thought impossible had somehow become her reality.

Her days were no longer filled with shadows and uncertainty, but with warmth. With laughter. With love.

Her daughter—Virelia. A name that felt like fresh snowfall under moonlight, like something delicate yet unbreakable. A name meant for a child born of both ice and fire, of past wounds and future hopes.

Virelia was growing too fast. Already four months old, her tiny hands grasped at everything, her bright, curious eyes taking in the world with a quiet sort of intelligence. Kallias was utterly besotted with her, as if she were his own flesh and blood. And in all the ways that mattered, she was.

He had been there through it all—when the nights were long and sleepless, when Virelia wailed for hours, when exhaustion made her body ache in ways she never thought possible. He had been the one to hold her through it, the one to press gentle kisses to her temple and whisper reassurances in her ear, the one to rock their daughter in his strong arms until she finally settled.

The Inner Circle had been just as present, their presence an overwhelming but oddly comforting force. Cassian had insisted on being the rowdiest uncle imaginable, constantly swooping Virelia into the air with a dramatic flair that earned him scandalized glares from both Y/N and Kallias. Azriel, by contrast, was softer, quieter. She still remembered the first time he had held Virelia—how his scarred hands trembled just slightly, how he had gazed down at her with something like awe. He had become her silent protector, watching over her with a quiet devotion that made Y/N’s heart ache in the best way.

Mor, of course, had spoiled Virelia beyond reason. “She’s my little star,” she would say, refusing to hear a word against it. Amren, on the other hand, had been… selective in her affections. But Y/N had caught her, once, when she thought no one was watching—gently tracing a clawed finger over Virelia’s cheek, murmuring something in a language Y/N did not understand.

And then there was Rhysand.

He was trying. Against all odds, he was truly trying. And despite everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the anger—Y/N could not deny that he was a good father. Not perfect, not by any means, but… present. Attentive. Devoted.

They did have a small argument, with Y/N coming out victorious as she insisted their daughter is still too young to be seperated from her mother every month. Rhysand at last begrudgingly agreed that it was best to wait until Virelia was older in order to have her go to his court and stay with him each month.

To her, he was nothing more than a ghost of the past. A scar that had healed but would never quite disappear. She had heard of his recent crowning of Feyre as High Lady. It had been an odd feeling, knowing that for so many years, it had been her. That she had once ruled at his side, had once been the one to carry that title, that power.

But the thought did not linger.

Not when her present—her future—was here, in Winter Court. With him.

Kallias.

Her mate.

Her husband.

Their mating ceremony had been only a month ago, a celebration of love and devotion that still left her breathless when she thought of it. And though their bond pulled them together in more ways than one, he was never anything but patient, nothing but a steady, grounding force. He was everything—her safety, her home, her heart.

It still amazed her sometimes, how a male so cold and unyielding to the world could be this to her. To her and Virelia, he was nothing but warmth. Fierce, unwavering, all-consuming warmth.

A soft cry pulled her from her thoughts.

Y/N turned from the mirror, her gaze finding the small bundle in the maid’s arms.

Virelia.

She smiled gently, lifting a hand to signal for the maid to bring her daughter to her, unable to move with the ladies still working on the delicate fabric of her dress.

As the maid gently placed Virelia in her arms, Y/N held her daughter close, inhaling the soft, familiar scent of her. A quiet warmth settled in her chest as she cradled the faeling against her, tracing her tiny, delicate features.

Today was the day.

In just a few hours, she would stand before the court and be crowned High Lady of Winter.

The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with endless preparation—none of which Kallias had allowed her to lift a single finger for. He had overseen everything himself, from the decorations to the guest list, ensuring that every last detail was flawless.

“My wife deserves the absolute best of the best,” he had told her, his expression so serious, so determined, that she hadn’t had the heart to argue.

He had taken her to the most renowned crownsmith in all of Winter—Master Vareth, an ancient male whose hands had shaped the coronets of kings and queens long before her time. But Kallias had insisted that this would not be a simple commission.

“Give him your design, my love,” he had murmured in her ear as they stood in Vareth’s workshop, the scent of molten metal and old magic thick in the air. “This is your crown. I want it to be yours in every way.”

Even for Virelia, Kallias had left nothing to chance. He had personally sought out the most skilled seamstresses to craft a gown for their daughter—“our daughter,” as he always corrected, his voice unyielding, his love unwavering. A tiny, intricate tiara had been forged just for her, designed to be light enough for her small head but still fit for royalty.

Y/N smiled at the thought, pressing a gentle kiss to Virelia’s soft cheek. In the mirror before them, she took in their reflection—the regal High Lady and her little princess. The maids bustled around them, their chatter warm and joyful as they adjusted the final touches of her dress. One by one, they murmured their blessings, their voices filled with genuine happiness.

Amidst the noise, Y/N bent her head slightly, whispering into her daughter’s ear.

“Do you know what today is, my love?” she murmured, her lips grazing the shell of Virelia’s ear. “Today, I become High Lady of Winter. But do you know a secret? I have already been the queen of something far greater.”

Virelia blinked up at her, her tiny hands grasping at the strands of Y/N’s hair. A small, delighted gurgle left her lips, as if she understood—as if she knew she was the one thing Y/N would always cherish above all else.

A soft laugh escaped Y/N as she kissed Virelia’s forehead, before lifting her gaze back to the mirror.

Her gown shimmered under the morning light—a piece of artistry that blended both the home she had come from and the one she now belonged to. The fabric was deep midnight blue, a nod to the Night Court, yet laced with silver embroidery that curled like frost-kissed vines, an unmistakable mark of Winter.

The bodice was elegantly fitted, structured yet comfortable, adorned with a delicate scattering of crystal beading that caught the light like stars in a winter sky. The sleeves were sheer, flowing into ethereal bell-shaped cuffs, reminiscent of the way moonlight softened the edges of darkness. A long, sweeping train cascaded behind her, edged with intricate patterns of snowflakes and night-blooming flowers, hand-stitched with silver and white thread.

It was not over-the-top, not an overwhelming display of power—but it was regal. It was strong. It was her.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she belonged.

A gentle voice cut through the hum of the room.

“My lady.”

Y/N turned her head to see her lady-in-waiting, Lady Sylva, standing a few steps away, hands clasped before her. The female’s soft smile was full of warmth, of quiet pride, as she spoke the words that would mark the beginning of this new chapter.

“You are ready, my High Lady.”

High Lady.

The title settled over Y/N like freshly fallen snow—familiar, yet entirely transformed. Once, the name had carried pain, betrayal, a history she could not erase. But now… now it was something new. Something entirely hers. A crown of her own making.

Her throat tightened slightly as she looked at the women surrounding her—the maids who had dressed her, the ladies-in-waiting who had stood by her side through every trial. They were smiling, eyes alight with pride, and something in her heart softened.

“Thank you,” she said, voice steady, “for everything. For standing beside me, for helping me through this journey. I could not have asked for better sisters in this court.”

A quiet murmur of affection spread through the room. A few of the maids wiped away tears, while Lady Sylva gave her a knowing nod. “It has been our honor, my lady.”

One of the ladies-in-waiting stepped forward, hands outstretched, reaching for Virelia. “Shall I take her for you—”

Before she could finish, Y/N instinctively pulled back, holding her daughter closer. “I want to hold her until we reach the grand doors,” she said, a soft smile curving her lips.

The female hesitated for only a moment before nodding, returning the smile.

From her right, another lady—Lady Evelyne—spoke gently, touching her arm. “Take a deep breath, my lady. It is time.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, her spine straightening as she lifted her chin. She glanced down at Virelia, adjusting the tiny tiara atop her daughter’s dark curls before letting out a quiet, steadying breath.

“Right. Well, let’s do this, ladies.”

With that, she turned toward the doors, four of her most trusted ladies falling in step behind her. Their gowns—silver and gray, elegant and sparkling in the candlelight—flowed gracefully as they followed.

And together, they walked forward—toward history.

The grand staircase stretched before her, its polished marble gleaming under the soft glow of the chandeliers. As Y/N descended, all eyes turned to her—the servants lining the halls pausing in their tasks, their gazes filled with quiet admiration.

Not just for the regal beauty she exuded, nor for the delicate faeling cradled in her arms, but for what she represented. Their High Lady. Their future.

Her gown whispered against the floor as she moved, her ladies a silver-and-gray tide behind her, each step measured and steady. The air was thick with quiet anticipation, the soft rustle of fabric and the distant murmur of voices beyond the grand doors the only sounds that accompanied them.

They walked the long, vaulted hallway, its towering windows letting in the pale Winter Court sunlight, until at last—

The great doors loomed before her.

Beyond them waited the court officials, the nobles, the guests who had gathered to witness this moment. Beyond them waited her crown. Beyond them waited Kallias.

She took a breath, then looked down at Virelia.

The little faeling peered up at her with wide, curious eyes, her tiny fingers tangled in the fabric of Y/N’s gown. A soft, nostalgic smile curved Y/N’s lips as she stroked her daughter’s cheek, pressing one last, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Then, she turned and gently passed Virelia into Lady Sylva’s waiting arms.

A pause.

Y/N straightened, nodding once to the guards.

The moment their hands pressed against the doors, they swung open, spilling brilliant golden light into the hall.

And as the warmth of the great chamber washed over her, Y/N lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and stepped forward—toward her future.

The Great Hall of Winter was nothing short of breathtaking.

The towering, ice-carved pillars gleamed under the soft blue light cast by enchanted chandeliers, their flickering glow refracting across the polished floors like scattered starlight. Silken banners of silver and white draped elegantly from the ceiling, embroidered with intricate patterns of frost and swirling snowflakes. The air itself seemed to hum with magic, cold yet welcoming, as if the very essence of Winter Court had wrapped itself around this moment.

And at the far end of the hall, set upon a raised dais, stood the twin thrones of Winter.

One already occupied by Kallias, resplendent and regal, a true High Lord in every sense. The other—waiting for her.

The first notes of the ceremonial music swelled into the air, and Y/N began to move.

Every gaze in the room followed her.

The court officials, the high-ranking Fae, the noble families who had come to witness the crowning of their High Lady. Among them were figures from beyond Winter Court, High Lords and their entourages, each standing as a testament to the shifting power in Prythian.

Her eyes swept across them, cataloging each face as she glided down the aisle.

Berron Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn, wore his signature sneer, his expression laced with his usual disdain. Beside him, Eris stood with his chin lifted, his sharp gaze unreadable, though a flicker of intrigue danced in his ember eyes.

Helion, High Lord of Day, watched with a charming, knowing smile, golden robes bright against the icy backdrop. Thesan, High Lord of Dawn, stood with quiet grace, his consort by his side, both watching with open curiosity.

Tarquin, High Lord of Summer, met her gaze with a small, respectful nod, the sapphire earrings dangling from his ears catching the light.

And then—

Her breath hitched.

Rhysand.

He stood among the High Lords, his midnight-black attire pristine as always. His expression—indecipherable at first, unreadable as his violet gaze held hers. But then, something flickered there. Something that looked almost like regret, or longing, before his eyes softened—

Softened as they shifted behind her, landing on Virelia.

And despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

Beside him, Feyre stood—her face carefully composed, unreadable, but Y/N could feel the weight of her stare.

The rest of Rhysand’s Inner Circle flanked them, their reactions varied. Azriel’s expression remained unreadable, Mor’s carefully neutral. But Cassian—

Cassian’s expression was priceless.

The warrior winked at Virelia, pulling a ridiculous face that had the little girl cooing in delight, her tiny hands clapping together. A small, unwilling laugh threatened to bubble up in Y/N’s throat at the sight, but she refused to let her steps falter.

Because ahead of her—stood him.

Kallias.

He looked utterly regal, his presence commanding yet effortlessly elegant. His frost-colored robes, embroidered with silver and lined with the softest white fur, complemented the gleaming crown atop his head—crafted of ice and moonstone, its crystalline edges glinting under the chandeliers’ light.

But it was his expression that made her chest tighten.

Warmth. Pure, unguarded love as he watched her.

As if she were the only thing in this grand hall that mattered.

And when she reached him, when she stood close enough that their breaths mingled, Kallias took her hand, his thumb grazing over her knuckles before he brought it to his lips and pressed a slow, lingering kiss against her skin.

His gaze never left hers as he whispered, just for her, “You’re otherworldly.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered, but before she could reply, his attention shifted to Virelia.

A different kind of warmth filled his expression as he smiled at the tiny girl, a smile so full of quiet devotion that it left no doubt in anyone’s mind—she was his daughter.

The ladies gently stepped forward, keeping Virelia in their arms and retreating to the side as the ceremony continued. Y/N barely had time to process the absence of her daughter behind her before Kallias leaned in slightly—closer now, his voice softer.

“Are you ready?”

It was a whisper, meant only for her, barely audible over the grand music.

She smiled. Bright and unwavering.

“Always.”

A glimmer of pride flickered across his face before they turned together, facing the thrones.

At the base of the dais, a ceremonial pedestal stood, draped in rich, Winter Court velvet. And atop it, resting against a pillow of midnight-blue, was her crown.

Beside it, two attendants stood—Lord Arlan, Winter Court’s head councilor, and Lady Lyselle, her closest advisor and a high priestess. Both awaited her final steps toward the throne.

And as the music swelled, as the murmurs of the court grew hushed, Y/N and Kallias stepped forward—toward her destiny.

The hall fell into a near-sacred silence.

Y/N and Kallias stood at the foot of the dais, the towering thrones of Winter gleaming before them. Above them, the banners of Winter Court stirred gently, despite the absence of any breeze. Magic hummed in the air, thick and expectant.

And at the heart of it all—the crown.

She had designed it herself. Every intricate curve, every delicate carving of frosted silver and moonstone, every shard of enchanted ice that glittered like starlight trapped in crystal—all of it was a piece of her. A reflection of who she was, of what she had become.

And now, it would be placed upon her head as a final, irreversible declaration of her rule.

Kallias’s fingers brushed against hers.

The touch was featherlight, a grounding tether, and when she turned to him, she found his icy-blue gaze unwavering. Steady. A quiet strength meant for her alone.

He didn’t need to say anything. His touch, his presence—they said enough.

A deep, resonant voice broke the silence.

“Let the ceremony begin.”

Lord Arlan stepped forward first. The head councilor of Winter Court was a figure of deep wisdom, his silver-white beard neatly trimmed, his robe embroidered with ancient runes of governance and law. He moved with a solemn grace as he raised a rolled parchment in his hands.

“Before the gathered court and the High Lords of Prythian, we bear witness to this sacred moment,” Lord Arlan declared. “A moment in which Winter Court acknowledges its High Lady—not as consort, nor as queen, but as a ruler in her own right.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall, though it was quickly silenced by Lady Lyselle, the High Priestess.

She was an ethereal figure, draped in flowing silver robes, her white hair braided in an intricate coil. The crystalline pendant at her throat glowed softly as she stepped forward, hands outstretched.

“Let the Trials of the High Lady commence,” she intoned.

Y/N straightened. She knew of this ritual—it was an ancient Winter Court tradition, an acknowledgment of the burdens a ruler must bear. Three vows, three trials.

Lady Lyselle turned to Kallias first.

“High Lord of Winter, do you accept this female beside you not as a consort alone, but as your equal in rule? To honor her strength, her wisdom, her sovereignty?”

Kallias did not hesitate. “I do.”

“Do you swear to stand by her, not as a shadow behind a throne, but as a partner upon it? To rule beside her, not above her?”

“I swear it.”

The High Priestess turned to Y/N.

“Do you, Y/N, swear to protect the people of Winter Court, to rule with justice and mercy, to carry the weight of the crown with unwavering resolve?”

Y/N exhaled softly. “I do.”

“Do you swear to uphold the traditions of our court, not as a prisoner to the past, but as a guardian of our future?”

“I swear it.”

Lady Lyselle nodded, and with a flick of her fingers, the pendant at her throat pulsed with light, sealing the vows.

Then, she lifted her hands over the crown.

“Come forward, High Lady.”

Y/N stepped onto the dais, her pulse a steady drumbeat in her ears. The closer she got to the crown, the heavier the air around her became.

A test.

A final, unspoken test—to see if she was truly ready.

Kallias stepped beside her, his hand pressing lightly against her back in silent reassurance.

She could feel the weight of a hundred eyes upon her.

The court officials. The noble families. The High Lords.

And then, her gaze met his.

Rhysand.

He stood still as stone, his violet eyes locked on her. Not with mockery, not with amusement—but with something else entirely. Something soft, almost haunted.

Almost as if he were looking at a path he had once walked.

A path he had lost.

His gaze flickered—just for a moment—toward Kallias. Toward the way he looked at her. And something unreadable passed through his features.

Then, his eyes found hers again.

And he bowed his head.

Slightly. Barely noticeable. But it was there.

An acknowledgment.

A recognition of what she had become.

Y/N’s breath caught, but she forced herself to turn away, to face the High Priestess once more.

Lady Lyselle lifted the crown, the delicate silver gleaming in the candlelight.

With infinite care, she lowered it onto Y/N’s head.

The moment the cold metal touched her skin, magic surged through her.

It was not an attack. Not a battle to be fought.

It was a welcome.

A claiming.

The court’s magic settling into her bones, binding her to this land, this people.

And then—

She was crowned.

Kallias turned to the court, his voice ringing with undeniable authority.

“Behold your High Lady.”

The hall erupted.

Cheers, applause, murmurs of awe.

The sound nearly overwhelmed her—until her gaze flickered, almost instinctively, to Virelia.

The little girl was nestled in Lady Sylva’s arms, her tiny hands reaching up toward her mother. Y/N exhaled softly.

There it was.

That sense of calm. Of home.

Kallias leaned in, voice hushed. “Breathe,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against hers.

She did.

And then—she smiled.

Because at last, this moment was hers.

The grand ballroom of the Winter Court shimmered with a thousand lights, the glow from massive chandeliers casting a golden hue over the sea of silver and blue. The ice sculptures, enchanted to never melt, gleamed like diamonds, reflecting the light of the faelights floating above. Musicians played in the far corner, the soft melody of strings weaving through the laughter and clinking of glasses. Servants in crisp white uniforms flitted about, refilling goblets and ensuring that no guest was left unattended.

Y/N was surrounded, congratulated at every turn. Lords and ladies bowed as they passed, murmuring praises, their voices blending into a chorus of celebration. She nodded, smiling gracefully, accepting their words with the poise of a queen—because that’s what she was now.

Then, a familiar presence wrapped her in a tight embrace. Strong, calloused hands clung to her as if letting go would shatter him.

“Az,” she whispered, barely holding back tears as she felt his trembling exhale against her hair.

Azriel’s voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I’m so proud of you.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his shadows coiling protectively around them. His eyes were suspiciously bright, his throat bobbing as he tried to swallow the emotion down.

Her lips quirked. “Are you crying?”

He huffed a half-laugh, shaking his head. “No.”

She cupped his face teasingly. “Liar.”

Before he could reply, Cassian swooped in, draping a heavy arm around both of them. “Az is an emotional wreck, but let’s talk about the real tragedy here—how I have yet to dance with the newly crowned High Lady.”

She laughed, stepping back as Mor waltzed up to them, a goblet of wine in hand. “If anyone gets to dance with her first, it’s me,” she declared, looping an arm through Y/N’s. “Come on, my love, let’s leave these oafs to sulk.”

Cassian scoffed. “Excuse you, but I’m a fantastic dancer.”

“Sure,” Mor drawled, dragging Y/N toward the center of the room. “If stomping around and accidentally punching people counts as dancing.”

Y/N threw her head back, laughing freely for the first time that night. This—this felt like home.

But then, her gaze drifted across the ballroom, her laughter fading as she caught sight of him.

Rhysand stood across the room, a striking figure in deep black, the starry sheen of his attire making him look otherworldly. But her focus wasn’t on him. It was on the small bundle in his arms.

Virelia.

Her daughter cooed, tiny hands reaching for the silver embroidery on his tunic. And though Y/N had every reason to despise the male holding her child, she couldn’t deny the tenderness in his touch, the absolute devotion in his violet eyes as he cradled his daughter like she was the most precious thing in existence.

He may have failed her as a lover, but he was undeniably a good father.

Her lips parted slightly when Rhysand’s gaze lifted to hers. His expression was unreadable—something between regret and admiration, something softer than she ever thought she’d see from him again. Then, just as quickly, his features hardened, especially when Helion reached out, attempting to brush a finger over Virelia’s chubby cheek.

Rhys pulled her closer to his chest, his wings flaring slightly in warning.

Y/N nearly laughed. So protective.

A familiar warmth spread across her back, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Enjoying the view?”

Kallias’ voice was low, teasing, but there was something possessive in the way his arms curled around her waist, tugging her back against him as he took a few steps back into a darker part of the ballroom for a quick moment of privacy.

She startled slightly but melted into his embrace almost instantly, tilting her head so he could nuzzle into her neck.

“Hardly,” she murmured, leaning into him.

His lips brushed her ear, his voice a purr. “Good. Because the only male you should be looking at is me.”

She turned in his arms, gazing up at him as her hands rose to cradle his face.

“My High Lord,” she murmured.

His expression softened. “My High Lady.”

Her chest tightened at the way he said it—as if the words alone were sacred, as if calling her his was the greatest honor he’d ever been given.

“Waiting two hundred years for you was worth it,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against hers. “Because now, I get to have you for eternity.”

She smirked. “What if I fall in love with another?”

His irises darkened instantly, his grip tightening at her waist. “You won’t,” he said smoothly, his voice a calm-before-the-storm kind of quiet. “Because he will be dead.”

She arched a brow. “Will you kill me too?”

His breath hitched, but then he sighed, pressing his forehead more firmly against hers. “Of course not. I would kill everyone but you and our daughter.”

Her heart clenched at the words—our daughter.

Warmth bloomed in her chest, and before she could stop herself, she leaned in, brushing a featherlight kiss against his lips.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because that will never happen. I was joking.”

His answering laugh was deep, rich. Then he kissed her fully, hungrily, and she let him, her entire body pressing into him. Mother above, she always wanted him.

A growl rumbled against her lips. “You look absolutely delectable,” he muttered between kisses, his hands roaming lower. “But I can’t wait to have you naked beneath me.”

She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head. “You need to wait some more, then. The ball just started.”

He pressed her tighter against him, his breath warm in her ear. “Fuck the ball. No one will notice if we disappear.”

She was about to reply when—

“Where is the High Lord and Lady?”

Tarquin’s voice rang through the ballroom, drawing chuckles and murmurs of agreement from other nobles.

Kallias groaned in frustration, and she barely managed to break free, smoothing down her dress and fixing her crown.

“Nope,” she said, smirking as she saw the dark frustration in his expression. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

His eyes gleamed with promise. “Then you owe me later.”

She leaned in, whispering "Be patient, my love. The longer you wait, the sweeter I'll taste" in his ear, watching with satisfaction as his pupils blew wide.

“Mother above,” he exhaled, his voice thick with desire. “I am deeply and utterly in love with you.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping her arm through his. “Good. Because I, too, am irreversibly in love with you.”

And as they stepped back into the light, the nobles awaiting them with bright eyes and raised glasses, Kallias smiled down at her.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re stuck together forever.”

She squeezed his hand, matching his grin.

“Forever,” she echoed. And for the first time in a long, long while, the word didn’t scare her. It felt like home.

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[azrielsshadows42]

ACOTAR Names + Meanings

I was scrolling on Pinterest and fell into a rabbit hole; the result was finding the meaning behind the names of the acotar characters. I have decided to share this information with the rest of the fandom

Rhysand = In the Bible it means perfection/bringer of darkness, it can also mean Enthusiasm.

Feyre = Fair, beautiful and light-haired, origin: Old French. It can also mean bringer of gifts

Nyx = Named after a Greek goddess who was known as the personification of night.

Azriel = In Hebrew it means 'God is my help' Though if spelt Azrael, it then means 'Angel of death' in the Bible.

Cassian = Son of Cassius (Cassius was a Roman general) in Latin and Irish origin. It also means Empty/hollow, cinnamon and curly-headed

Morrigan = I was shocked when her name didn't actually mean truth. Her name comes from a goddess of Irish and Celtic mythology, It means Phantom Queen, and she was the 'bringer of death'

Amren = 'Mighty Nation' in Hebrew

Nesta = Means many things, in Welsh it means 'pure', in Jamaica and Greece it means 'returner' and in Italy it means 'integrity'

Elaine = Sunray or shining light also has French origins

Helion = The Sun or a troublesome/mischievous person.... it also means 'Cattle shelter' though I don't think that was the aim

Thesan = Named after a sky goddess often depicted with a pair of wings, her name most commonly translates to 'Dawn' but can also mean illumination

Kallias = mans name legit means 'beauty' in Greek, you just know Vivianne is a lucky female.

Vivianne = also has many meanings, in French, lively. In Latin, alive. In Hungarian/Irish, joyous, energetic and free

Beron = Bear lol

Eris = This is what the Greeks would name their baby to help embrace their dark, mischievous side, it means 'strife' or 'fight' referring to the Greek Goddess of discord, contention and rivalry

Lucien = Meaning 'Light' cause he's Helion's son, was right in front of us the whole time

Tarquin = Meaning 'Ancient Roman Ruler' with Latin origins

Varian = Variable... and apparently the first name of some American hero

Tamlin = Independence, origin: South Africa

Amarantha = Unfading flower, which is what they used to call her before she was known as the deceiver

[lainalit]

Made a (vibe based) height chart for the seven High Lords since I never saw one for them

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part IV

Word count: +4300

Warnings: angst (the scene with father made me cry while I was writing it), mentions of blood and frostbites, not properly proofread (sorryyyy)

Part III | Part V

An hour later, I was still standing in front of the mirror, calling his name and trying to open the passageway to no avail. Clearly, this was the reason why I didn't need to know how to get to Kallias' chambers that Millie mentioned before, but how - for the love of Mother - was I supposed to open it? I tried pressing ornaments on the frame, I even touched the glass like Kallias did and nothing. Did he block it? Or.. did I need magic to open it?

At last, I gave up, sitting on the edge of mattress, thinking. If it could only be opened with magic, then I wouldn't be able to use it - not that I wanted to bother Winter prince in his bedroom. After I had my one and fortunately only outburst of fire magic as a child, I did everything I could to extinguish the flames within me and suppress any powers I had. I had no idea how to summon even the smallest bits of it nor how to wield it.

Eventually, I crawled under the warm blankets, mentally and physically exhausted. Yet sleep kept eluding me and I spent the rest of the night tossing around. It gave me enough time to think about, well, everything. By the time morning came, I had made several important decisions.

I thought a lot about Kallias and his feelings for Viviane, and I realized that I didn't want to stand in his way. For some reason, I already liked him quite a bit and cared for him. If possible, I'd like to be his friend and support him, maybe even help him be with the one to whom his heart belonged.

That also meant that I couldn't fall in love with him in the process, which was probably the hardest part of my plan as he was too attractive and nice. I couldn't imagine a person who wouldn't like someone like him. The fact that he was also my husband, made it even worse. While my head was clear about it, my heart kept whispering. I had no claim on him nor his feelings and I knew it. Demanding such things from him just because we were forced into marriage, wasn't right.

I was in the middle of contemplating how to refrain from falling in love with him when a knock sounded on the door.

"You can come in," I said as I sat up and hissed when a sharp pain shot through my head. Exhaustion wasn't a strong enough word to describe how I felt. After not sleeping at all, I felt weak and nauseous. I definitely wasn't in state to get up, but today was the day my father would return home and I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could.

Millie peeked in. "I saw young master and thought you might be up, milady." She frowned when she noticed the mostly untouched bed, but the dark circles under my eyes were convincing enough.

"How.. how did he look?"

"Like he didn't sleep much, I'd say." She opened the curtains, letting in the rays of morning sun. I squinted, my headache getting instantly worse.

"Uhm."

"Is something wrong? Should I get you a healer?" Millie hurried to me with worry.

"It isn't necessary," I pushed through clenched teeth. "I just need- uhm.."

"Headache, right?" Millie was immediately on her feet, running to what I guessed was walk-in closet. "I think I saw it somewhere around here," she mumbled as she searched one of the dressers inside. "Ah, there it is."

After getting my medicine, the pain subsided to a bearable level and soon I was able to stand up and change. Millie was so kind that she brought the breakfast to my room, and I wobbled to the sitting room.

"Milady, your father would like to visit you, but if you're feeling unwell, I'll tell him that you can't-.."

I put my tea down, surprised. "No, please. I'd like to talk with him, too."

With a bow, she left and soon my father appeared at the threshold. I was so relieved to see him. This was our last chance to spend some time together for a while. Both of us knew it and we both wanted to make the most of it. Father was quite worried when he saw my face, asking me a lot of questions. Unfortunately, for many of them I couldn't provide an answer. With every question I couldn't answer, his brows furrowed more.

"So at least tell me - is the young prince good to you?"

"Yesterday, he was really kind and mindful. I think we will get along well once we get to know each other better. Did you speak with him?"

"I had the pleasure. He appeared in the High Lord's office before the ceremony. When I finished speaking with his father, he offered to show me around and asked me all sorts of questions about you. I didn't tell him about your powers - that's something I will leave up to you and your judgment - but I made sure he knows about your health issues. He seemed like a good male to me. And surprisingly, so did his father."

"Yeah.. I have a similar impression," I mumbled weakly.

"He reassured me that we can see each other any time we'd like. So if something happens or you need anything, just send me a message and I'll come. If necessary, I will take you back home, my sweet girl." His eyes were gleaming with tears and I also had a hard time holding back mine.

Then we talked about anything that came to our minds, just as we usually did. It was nice to be able to do so, yet it saddened me even more. Back home, we did this almost every day. Knowing that from now on, he would be too far for maintain our tradition, hurt. After having lunch together, a servant stopped by to announce that the sleigh was ready. As we descended to the ground floor, the feeling of uneasiness I had felt last night reappeared, making it hard for me to draw a full breath.

Kallias and his father were waiting in the foyer, kind smiles on their faces. Again, I couldn't but notice how similar they were in appearance as well as behavior. Their goodbyes were so shockingly warm, as if they were bidding farewell to a dear friend and not to someone they had just met the day before, making sure my father knew that he was always welcome to come again. However, when Morena appeared, their behavior was rather reserved and aloof.

While my new family exchanged farewells with the old one, my attention moved to Kallias, whom I hadn't seen since the incident last night. Just as Millie told me, he looked tired and pale, maybe even a bit uncomfortable. His gaze was focused solely on the leaving guests. I hoped I would have the chance to talk with him later. I wanted to explain events of last night and reassure him that it wasn't his fault.

I followed my father down the stairs to the waiting sleigh. Millie, who trailed after us, stayed near the doors, giving us privacy to say our goodbyes. Morena dryly recited the parting words and got into the sleigh. Father raised a brow, experiencing her coldness toward me for the first time, but I only shook my head.

"Are you sure you can't stay here longer?"

"I'd love to, my little girl, but I need to return to the borders. Solstice is getting closer and I have to ensure every village is prepared and stocked with enough food," he caressed my cheek.

"I will miss you," I sobbed, unable to hold my tears back.

"Me too," he pulled me into a hug, protecting me from cold wind.

"I have a bad feeling about it," I admitted for the first time.

"No need," he rubbed my back. " I will write you a letter as soon as we arrive and then every day after."

"That's not the same."

"I know, believe me, I know. Without you, our home will feel so lonely and empty."

"Please, take good care of yourself."

"You too, Y/N. Be a good girl as usual and don't be afraid to let others know when you need help. Don't suffer alone. If anything, trust at least young Kallias, your husband. He swore to take good care of you and I hope he'll keep his word. Be happy."

With a last squeeze and a kiss on my forehead, father released me and got into the sleigh, taking a seat next to visibly displeased Morena. I instantly felt so cold and lonely without his presence.

The sleigh slightly jerked as it began moving, taking my only family away. Even though I was shivering, cold biting into my body, I stood there watching them until they passed the gate and disappeared into the labyrinth of streets and even long after that, until the sound of jingle bells faded into the distance. I waited a bit longer, hoping that wind would bring their distant sound multiplied by an echo in the gorge as they traveled down the narrow road to the gates, but the only things I could hear, were distant sounds of life in the city.

I tugged my fur cloak closer and slowly turned back to the castle, admiring its tall towers, so different from the castle where I grew up. My new home. My heart sank at that thought. Could I really call this place home?

The icy-cold north wind brought a few snowflakes, swirling and freely dancing in this open space, and I shivered, already losing feeling in my fingers, tears freezing on my face. The headache was growing stronger again, pain coming in waves. I took maybe three steps before I felt something warm and wet coming out of my nose.

Oh my, how embarrassing, I thought, trying to cover it with hand.

Honestly, I thought it was just snot, but when I checked my fingers, they were stained red. After that, everything happened too quickly. It wasn't my first nosebleed nor did it scare me. At that moment, my only concern was to get in quickly and find the closest bathroom. I managed to reach halfway up the stairs leading to the castle's entrance when my body swayed, my legs buckling, and world started to tilt to the side. A sharp pain blinded me and the last thing I remembered was the feeling of falling.

I was groping in the darkness, freezing and burning simultaneously. Later, I wasn't sure about it, but I thought I had dreams, flashes of light when I saw Kallias leaning over me, brows knitted together, his lips moving without making a sound. Sometimes he just sat there, watching me, sometimes he reached for something I couldn't see or gently touched my cheek.

In that state I completely lost track of time. The sense of feeling was the first of my senses to awaken. I was surrounded by warmth, comforting yet heavy, pressing on my chest and pushing me into something soft beneath me. After a while, I cracked my eyes open, blinking away the pain. This place was so bright, light pouring in through the open curtains. As my eyes adjusted, I recognized my new bedroom. How did I get here?

I search my memory, but last thing I clearly remembered was rushing up the stairs outside because my nose was bleeding. Groaning, I pushed the heavy blankets aside and sat up. Carefully I checked on myself. The dress had been replaced by soft cotton nightgown and I felt tired, but headache was gone for now as was the nosebleed.

"Thank the Mother, you are awake, milady," Millie's a bit high-pitched voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She had just come in from the bathroom, wiping her wet hands on her white apron, and she rushed to my side. "We were so worried when you suddenly passed out on the stairs. If it hadn't for young master, you could have seriously hurt yourself."

She hopped up, sitting on the edge of mattress and pressed her cool hand to my forehead and my hands. "Thankfully, the fever is now completely gone and you aren't freezing anymore. You really had us worried. Even the best healer in the castle couldn't say what was going on."

"I don't understand," I blinked in confusion. "Didn't I just pass out because of a migraine?"

"Well, you probably did, but I wasn't here the whole time and didn't hear everything the healer said. I had to leave to bring blankets and other things she ordered me to fetch. The young master spoke with her. I returned in time to hear her explaining to him that your body was burning with fever while freezing and that she had never encountered anything like that. To be honest, I don't understand much to that."

"I see.. I'm sorry for worrying you, Millie."

"It's nothing, milady. I'm happy you feel better already."

I fiddled nervously, unsure how to ask about the certain thing that caught my attention, my cheeks heating up "Millie.. umm.. You mentioned that Kallias caught me?"

Her eyes grew bigger, a wide smile adorning her heart-shaped face. Her expression conveyed a pure adoration. She placed hands over her heart, leaning closer. "You should have seen it, milady. I saw something wasn't right with you, but I knew I couldn't get to you in time. I was so scared. I already pictured you hitting the stairs, breaking a bone or even worse when suddenly, the young master appeared, right next to you. He caught you mid-air and scooped you into his arms. It would have been so romantic, if you hadn't been bleeding so much," she retold the events enthusiastically, gesturing about. It certainly wasn't the first time she had told this to someone.

"And then the young master stayed by your side all night, taking care of you completely alone until early morning when finally your fever went down," she concluded her story with a dreamy expression.

I hated to admit it, but my heart was hammering in my chest as her story unfolded. Adding random small details, she vividly described how Kallias carried me to my room, took me to the bathroom to stop the nosebleed, and then carefully placed me on the bed when the healer arrived. It was hard to imagine he would go such lengths for someone like me, but apparently he did.

I sat there, speechless, trying to convince myself that he did such things solely because he was a good person and because of the promise. Who knows, maybe father somehow tricked him into taking an oath. I knew his heart already belonged to someone else, so why didn't mine want to accept it, whispering sweet lies?

"Are you okay, milady? Perhaps you should lie back down," Millie gave me a worried look, again checking my temperature.

"I'm fine," I tried to smile. "Actually, I'd like to change and go down for breakfast."

As expected, Millie protested and I had to convince her to let me get up. An hour later, I walked into family dining room, much smaller than the one where the wedding party took place, yet impressive in its size and decor. Sets of round and long tables were randomly placed around the space, each chair and bench inviting one to take a seat and eat the delicious-looking food arranged on plates and trays in the middle of tables. Several spots were already taken by importantly looking lords, but aside from Lord Isen who delivered High Lord's message, I didn't recognize anyone.

My eyes wandered to the long table in the back of the room, near the window, and there, sitting on the bench, I spotted him.

Dressed in a uniform that seemed to be his usual attire, Kallias looked even more tired than the last time I saw him, but his posture was relaxed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was immersed in conversation with Viviane, who sat next to him and was currently laughing at something.

I hesitated. Maybe I should let him enjoy those moments and try to thank him later.

Yeah, that would be for the best.

I was about to leave when Viviane looked up, her shock immediately replaced by a bright smile.

"Y/N! Come! Come and sit down, dear!" she called, making space between them for me. Kallias quickly looked me over and then looked down, that sweet smile gone. I bit the inside of my cheek. Now that they saw me, it would be strange to leave.

"Hi, Viviane.. Kallias."

Viviane patted the bench between them, her brows knitting slightly together. "How are you, dear? We all were so worried when we heard what happened. Do you feel better?"

"I'm fine now," I smiled and stepped to Kallias' other side. Surprise flashed across his features, but he moved closer to Viviane to make room for me on the end of bench. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Viviane pouted her full lips, her gaze darting to Kallias in silent question. He slightly shook his head, his shoulders a bit tense. It took a few minutes, but at last, conversation had picked up again, with Viviane cheerfully leading it. I took it as a good sign when Kallias relaxed and continued with his breakfast, matching our pace and occasionally adding something to my plate. When it happened for the first time, I was more than surprised. He mumbled something about me needing to eat properly to get stronger and returned to his meal.

Viviane's attention focused solely on me, asking me random questions, completely ignoring Kallias. He seemed content watching her expressive face, flashing a grin here and there, though I could say that he often felt awkward and lonely, sitting between us like an invisible wall. That's why I tried to turn the conversation to him at every opportunity.

We were almost done with the breakfast when, out of nowhere, I felt an urgent need to look up. The unpleasant feeling of being watched made me turn to the doors. The person I saw there.. I didn't expect that..

My stepbrother Zima just walked in with arrogant smile, his gaze burning holes into me. All the blood drained from my face, the contents of my stomach threatening to return. This couldn't be... He was supposed to leave, so why?

Dipping his chin in acknowledgment, he headed to the table where Lord Isen was seated, his eyes still on me.

"Y/N.. What's wrong?" Both Viviane and Kallias watched me warily, probably expecting me to faint.

"W-what is he doing here?"

I didn't need to say his name. They exchanged glances. Viviane was the one to answer me.

"I heard he is so worried about you feeling lonely in your new home, that he decided to stay. Aren't you glad he's here?"

I couldn't answer. I had such a bad feeling about this. I'd never felt safe around him, but I had confidence in my father's protection as if it could hold him back from seriously hurting me. But here..? I was stripped of the only security I had in my life. What could keep him on chain here? This place was huge, full of strangers who couldn't care less about me. If he pushed me into some dark corner in a deserted part of the castle, who would bother looking for me?

The more I thought about it, the less I could control the tremor of my hands, so I put down the fork and hid them in my skirt, hoping that my companions hadn't noticed. Thankfully, they seemed to be fully focused on cleaning their plates.

After they were done, Kallias was the first to leave. Not wanting to stay in the same room as Zima alone, I hurried after him, focusing on my previous plans.

I caught up to him in one of many corridors.

"Kallias? Would you have a minute?"

He stopped but didn't look at me.

"I'd like to apologize for what happened t-that night. You have been avoiding me since then, even though it wasn't your fault."

"I hurt you," his voice was distant. Under the thick layer of ice that was protecting him from outside world, I heard hurt and remorse. "It won't happen again. I assure you."

As he said what he needed, he was ready to leave me behind. I wouldn't allow that.

"Kallias! Please, listen to me!" He froze in mid-motion, finally looking at me over his shoulder with a raised brow. Now that I had his full attention.. I lost my courage and with it, the whole speech I had prepared for this occasion vanished.

"I-.. You already know that I'm not like others. Honestly, I'm weak.. What happened that night.. if it had been someone else, they wouldn't even have noticed.. So don't blame yourself for my.. incompetence.."

He said nothing, but it was clear he didn't believe me. Well.. I had to prove my point then. Before he could stop me, I yanked the closest window open and grabbed the thick icicle blocking the view. The pain of burning was immediate and I hissed. In the blink of an eye, Kallias was next to me, pulling me away from the window.

"Are you crazy?" He kept his voice low. He checked if we were alone and then carefully opened my hand. The entire skin of my palm and fingers was red with small blisters here and there. He was mad now for sure. "Such recklessness!"

He pushed me into the empty sitting room and warded the door. Placing an armchair closer to the hearth, he bid me to sit down. The Winter prince dropped to one knee in front of me, closely inspecting my palm. He let out a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry. Thinking it's for the best to keep my distance I caused.. this," he sighed. He was having a hard time, looking for the words. "I meant to give this to you sooner, but I didn't know how-" He pulled a small container from his pocket and opened it. The well-known smell of herbs tickled my nose and I hummed, knowing what it was. He dipped a finger into the cream and with feather-light touches, he began spreading it over the irritated skin. The relief was immediate.

"Thank you, and thank you also for yesterday. Millie told me.."

"Millie?" he halted, thinking. "Ah, you mean your maid.."

He again scooped a bit of cream on his finger and continued his careful treatment.

"Would you-.." After a while, he broke the silence, mumbling. "How is it even possible that you are this fragile? I've never heard of this. It's - to be honest - hard to believe that one can get this hurt just by briefly touching a piece of ice. All the halflings I know, inherited at least some resistance to cold."

He said it calmly, without any taunts or prejudices. I wondered whom he was talking about and where he had met them. Halflings, as he referred to someone like me, were rare in seasonal courts and were always looked down upon. We were seen as a mistake of nature, something that shouldn't even exist. Solar courts, on the other hand, were quite welcoming and didn't care for one's origin - or so I read in the books my father had in his library. As a Winter prince, Kallias certainly had many opportunities to travel. He probably met them while visiting other courts.

I bit on my bottom lip, thinking how to explain my handicap without revealing the real reason - thus that it was caused by suppressing my fire magic, my true nature. "Well, it wasn't always like this," I started hesitantly. "I remember playing outside in the snow as a child, touching it even without gloves. I used to spend hours outside and my parents had a really hard time getting me inside to at least eat."

Kallias' lips curled into a small smile. He was focused on my hurt hand, but he was listening intently.

"It happened shortly after my mum died and father-.. They were mates. My father was disappearing before my eyes. I was scared I would lose him, too," shiver ran down my spine and I tugged the fur cloak closer with my good hand. Just remembering that brought tears to my eyes. Kallias sat back on his heels, his gaze narrowed at me.

"I gradually got weaker. At first, I had just less energy than before. After some time, I had to stop going out without proper clothes. Years later.. I got this weak. Fevers, migraines, nosebleeds, this," I waved my slowly healing hand.

"I see," was all he said. I could literally see that he had something on the tip of his tongue. He didn't say it aloud, though. I grew scared that I revealed too much and that he guessed the real cause. A lump rose in my throat, my pulse quickened.

He closed the container he still held, and taking my healthy hand, he placed it on my palm. "Thank you for.. your honesty," he smiled kindly, but it did nothing to settle my fear. "If you run out of this, let me know. I'll get you a new one."

I just nodded. As if sensing my unease, he reached up and cupping my cheek, caressed me. "You can trust me. No need to be hesitant or scared. I'm your husband, after all. No matter what, I'll protect you from now on."

Taglist: @tenshis-cake