Chapter Text
It was a windy and rainy day in the Spring Court, the dark clouds spewing thick droplets down onto the lush land below, giving the fauna and flora a natural shower.
As thunder rumbled overhead, raindrops tapped against the tall glass panes of the Glass Palace, a large conservatory attached to the High Lord’s manor that housed plants from all over the world, which had been gifted and collected over the past century since it was built.
Sitting in the conservatory near the central fountain, a young woman played a harp, strumming tunes that complemented the thousands of tiny notes the falling rain made.
Primrose, Princess of the Spring Court, had done this many times before, allowing nature itself to be her muse, her symphony.
Her nimble fingers plucked the strings continuously, as the scent of damp earth drifted in through the cracked windows. A few birds also sang along, some outside in the rain, some inside hiding from it.
She, too, began to hum along sweetly to their tunes, but stopped when her name was called.
“Primrose.”
She looked up to find none other than her father and High Lord Tamlin standing in the doorway that led to the rest of the manor. Beside him was a young child who shared all of his features, her younger brother, Atley, who scammpered over and hugged onto her legs.
“Hello Father, Atley, did your lessons go well today?” Primrose asked her younger brother as she pulled him into her lap, and the young boy nodded with a large smile.
Her father began to approach her. “Sorry for interrupting, but I wanted to talk to you about the conference tomorrow.”
Primrose’s heart lifted. She had nearly forgotten, being so lost in the music. Tomorrow, they were hosting a meeting between the other High Lords and a few delegates from the Human Lands.
It wasn’t anything grand or serious, just a routine gathering where average topics were discussed and brought up, some papers got signed, and a luncheon would be served. Nothing special, at least usually it wasn’t, but this time would be Primrose’s first time attending one.
And not only that, but King Jurian and Queen Vassa of the Human Lands had given notice that they had an announcement to make, and so there was a lot of gossip going around about it.
“Yes, what about it? Is it about what Jurian and Vassa will announce?”
“It is, Lucien sent word. A cryptic message, as he so often enjoys. He says we should be ready for ‘big news’ tomorrow.”
Her brows shot up. “Big news? What kind of big news?
“Yeah what kind?!” Atley mimicked his sister.
“Who knows, he may just be pulling our leg, but he’s also very close to Vassa and Jurian, so they may have already told him what they’re planning to tell us all tomorrow.”
Primrose thought for a moment before letting out a gasp. “They’re pregnant!”
“What’s pergant?” Atley asked.
Tamlin looked at her, raising a brow. “I don’t think so, they’ve been happy as they are.” He unfolded the page again, scanning the neat, slanted script as if he might have missed something. “No, I think your uncle would have put in more clues if that was the case. I wouldn’t take his message so seriously; he likes a good joke.”
Primrose leaned forward, harp forgotten. “I bet they are having a baby.”
“Is that what pergananant means?”
“Yeas, son, but that’s not what’s happening right now,” Tamlin said.
“Why else would they announce they have an announcement to make? I guarantee they’re having a baby.”
“Yay babies!” Atley shouted.
Tamlin barked a short laugh, shaking his head. “Unlikely. Like I said, they’ve both been firm on that matter for some time. But still… We’ll know tomorrow what they have to say to us, that they needed to announce it beforehand,” he said as he picked up his son, who clung to his sister’s skirts.
Primrose removed his fingers from the delicate fabric.
“Anyway, it's time for afternoon tea, care to come?”
“Of course, I’ll return to the orchestra later; the thunder is a bit too loud at the moment.”
“Can I play in the orchestra too?” Atley asked as he reached for his sister.
“Of course you can, the more the merrier,” Primrose said as the three walked towards the tearoom.
When they arrived, Primrose saw her mother, Lillian, already setting everything up for them. She saw them enter and smiled.
"Hello my darlings," she said as she walked over and took her son from Tamlin's arms and placed him in a chair at the table. "I haven't seen any of you since breakfast."
"It's been a busy day, my dear. We have a lot of people coming tomorrow," Tamlin said as he pulled a chair out for his wife.
"I know, but I hate it when I don't get to see you," Lillian said as she took her seat.
Tamlin then pulled a chair out for Primrose, and she sat down, then turned her attention to her mother. "So, mother, what do you think the big news Vassa and Jurian are going to announce tomorrow is?"
"Hm? Oh, I'm not sure, I do hope it isn't anything bad, though, like a natural disaster, or a beast on the loose. Maybe an invasive species has invaded from a trading vessel and is wreaking havoc on people's crops or eating the native species, or-"
"Calm down, Lillian," Tamlin interrupted, placing a hand on his wife's. "I'm sure if it were something bad, they wouldn't wait to announce it at a general conference. Like I just told your daughter, we'll find out tomorrow. "
Lillian let out a small breath, conceding. “I suppose. I just hope it's good news," she said as she plated a few snacks for her son.
Primrose rested her chin on her hand, her mind still racing. “Then what could it be? Some new alliance? A festival? An expansion of the trade roads?”
“You,” Tamlin said with a tired sigh, picking up the teapot, “get your dramatizing from your mother.”
Primrose and Lillian shared a look — both mock-offended, both ready to protest.
“We are not dramatic,” they said in unison, which only made Tamlin grin as he poured tea for everyone.
Atley giggled, clapping his small hands together, clearly entertained by the squabble.
“Mm,” Tamlin drawled, savoring his tea. “Of course you’re not.”
The rain drummed on, steady and rhythmic, as the family carried on with their small comforts — their laughter a counterpoint to the storm, the mystery of tomorrow still hovering like a storm cloud yet to break.
༻◉✿○★○✿◉༺
It was a dreary, windy, cold, miserable day in the Night Court. Thick dark clouds had blocked out the sun, its rays unable to penetrate them. Velaris had been drenched, with the Sidra River beginning to swell with water.
Some fae attempted to brave the weather, doing their best to get their errands done and over with. Others chose to stay inside, but the laughter and screaming of children could still be heard, just as on any other day; in fact, it was more intense, as the kids loved splashing and playing in the puddles, much to their parents' dismay.
Even in the Illyrian Mountains, most soldiers had chosen to stay indoors, the usual training grounds becoming too muddy for proper training to take place, the high winds making it too difficult to fly normally.
But the keyword there was most soldiers, not all, as some stubbornly chose to still train. And two of those soldiers were none other than the Prince of the Court himself, Nyx, and his cousin Cassandra.
SLAM
“OOF! Fuck!” Nyx yelled out as he fell to the muddied ground beneath him with a loud thud.
The wind had been completely knocked out of him by a hard kick to his chest. He rubbed his chest beneath his protective leathers, but his cousin had a strong kick.
“Get up, I’m not finished,” Cassandra said, and he heard her stomp over to him, mud squelching beneath her boots.
“Well, I am, I’m pretty sure you cracked a rib that time,” he gasped out as he attempted to get up, but found himself pushed back down with a boot on his chest.”
“You’re the prince, aren’t you? Get stronger.”
“By the Mother, you’re a bitch, get the fuck off me, slagathor,” Nyx responded as he pushed her leg away and got up, flapping his wings to get the mud and dirt off them.
There was a flash of light up above, and thunder soon followed. Nyx wiped the rain from around his face, which didn’t do much, and he heard the sound of someone running up towards them.
He looked over and saw their younger cousin Genny approaching, dressed in her acolyte robes and somehow completely dry, most likely thanks to some magic.
She got closer and let out a small huff. “You two are like wild beasts sometimes, you know,” she said as she lifted her hand towards Nyx’s chest, and a soft light emitted from it.
Using magic, she healed his chest area, and the soreness was mostly gone.
“Thanks,” Nyx said. “Let’s get going for today. I’m cold, tired, and wet, plus I don’t need to be showing up to that meeting tomorrow covered in bruises.”
“Ugh, meetings sound so boring, glad I don’t have to go,” Cassandra added, flapping her wings to rid themselves of built-up rairwater.
“They are, but Dad says I need to go. It’s all a part of being a prince and heir.”
“Glad I’m not heir, I wouldn’t be able to stand a bunch of old men drone on and on about nothing. Anyway, I’ll see you at dinner,” she said as she flapped her wings and took off into the dark sky towards home.
“I should head home too for now, take a shower, okay, you’re filthy,” Genny said as she allowed her wings to emerge from beneath her cloak and took off towards Velaris.
Nyx brushed himself off once more, getting rid of any pebbles and twigs stuck to him before heading home to the River House.
When he got there, he didn't use the front door but rather the balcony to his room, knowing his mother would be pissed if she tracked in mud and dirty water into the house.
He took his boots off and left them on the balcony, going straight to his bathroom to shower away the sweat and dirt of the day. He washed his hair and wings, and paid extra attention to his feet, they've been wet and dirty all day, and he didn't need to get an infection from that.
He finished up, drying himself off and putting on some more casual clothes than the leathers he wore while training, and went to style his hair, or at least what was left of it. Not too long ago, he had made the impulsive move to shave half his head, and so far, he liked it, even if others didn't.
His mom hated it at first, his aunt Nesta hated it even more, but Uncle Cassian thought it was cool. Aunt Mor was sad about his “beautiful hair,” and Amren laughed at it. But if his cousin Eleanor could have her wonky hair, he could have his.
As soon as he was done getting dressed and was about to apply some of his favorite cologne, he heard a knock on the door, so he went to open it, seeing his dad on the other side.
“Hi,” Nyx greeted as his father entered.
“Hello, have fun at training today?” Rhysand asked.
“Yes, I managed to pin Cassandra several times.”
“Don't lie, son. Anyway, I wanted to remind you of the conference we have to attend tomorrow, so be up early, alright?” Rhsyand said as he leaned against the doorframe.
Nyx let out a groan. “I know, do I have to go?”
“Yes, all three of us are going. Being a prince isn’t just about training; besides, apparently, King Jurian and Queen Vassa have something important to announce during it, so we all must hear it.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll be up early tomorrow and wear my best suit, maybe even my grown, perhaps a nice cape too.”
“Don’t get sassy with me. Anyway, everyone will be arriving for dinner soon, so don’t be too long.”
“Yeah,” Nyx replied.
“Oh, and son, no cologne, you put too much on,”
Nyx let out an offended scoff. “No, I don’t! Your nose is just sensitive.”
“No cologne,” Rhysand repeated before shutting the door.