Feyre was actually enjoying this trip to the Summer Court more than she had expected. In fact the only thing that marred even a bit of the trip was how charming and kind Tarquin was. She already regretted that she was going to betray him. He didn’t deserve that, having been nothing but open with her, but it had to be done. And perhaps her guilt was slightly assuaged by the fact that she could see just how much she could tell her flirtations affected Rhys. Never mind that his own made her just as jealous. She wouldn’t think of that.
She’d soaked in the bath for hours that afternoon, playing with the water, forming shapes and water animals with it until finally, hearing the clock chiming, Feyre forced herself out of the now cool water. She had to be ready for dinner after all. And she certainly dressed to impress, wanting to keep Tarquin’s head turned and focused on her and not any other machinations the Night Court was putting in motion.
Studying herself in the mirror, she pivoted, studying every angle of her efforts before a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. And then another knock before she could even begin to walk to the door. Feyre rolled her eyes.
“One minute!” A final look and then she was making her way to the door. “Are you that impatient to see…”. Her voice trailed off as the door opened to reveal Tamlin standing there. The hesitation would cost her dearly though she didn’t realize it yet.
“….Tamlin?” Her brow furrowed. What was he doing there?