#famfic

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Summons to breakfast with his family had never meant anything good in Roman’s household. At least, they never meant anything good for Roman himself, he was fairly certain his parents saw things differently. 

Usually, his parents used the breakfasts as a way to tell him the most recent ‘good’ news - news that Roman almost never agreed was good. Occasionally it was things he could deal with, most of the time it was things that would make his life just that much more difficult, like their decision to get rid of his old handmaiden, who had supposedly gotten too old for her job. They’d told him that they now expected him to get up, wash and dress on his own from that point forward. It wasn’t like he’d been helped all his life with those things or anything, just because they didn’t want to expend money on someone new, it had taken him a painful while to adjust. 

So no, this breakfast summons, a week before the anniversary of his brother’s passing no less, was not a good thing by any possible stretch of the word. 

“Ah, there you are, Roman,” the Queen said, voice prim and proper as she snapped her fingers at his seat, wordlessly commanding that he sit down. Roman did so as promptly as he could without being improper - a skill well learned over the years, “Your father and I have something we must discuss with you.”

Roman’s father sat opposite him, neither the king nor the queen had touched the breakfast buffet elegantly laid out between the three of them. Roman knew well enough that he couldn’t eat until they did, no matter how hungry he was. His father looked rather unimpressed with the situation.

“What is the news?” Roman asked, probably a little later than he should have. He hadn’t realised they were waiting for him to ask before telling him what the weekly burden on his life would be. 

His father cleared his throat, “Well, considering you no longer have a maid and have clearly been struggling with adjustments, alongside our wish to keep you safe-”

Yeah, right, Roman thought and didn’t say. He knew his parents didn’t care about his wellbeing, just that he was alive, well behaved and expressed the correct opinions when asked. 

“-the Queen and I have come to the decision that it is in all of our best interests that you are assigned a personal guard post haste,” The king finished. 

Roman felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“Indeed,” the Queen continued, finally reaching for a pastry, her movements dainty and careful. “We do not want you to be in danger, nor do we want you able to cause trouble. We believe a personal guard is the best solution. What do you think, Roman?”

Awful, Roman thought, but once again didn’t say. This is awful, horrible, the worst thing you’ve done yet. “It’s a great idea, mother,” He said instead, “I would be very grateful for protection - do you already have someone picked out?”

“No need to get so ahead of yourself,” The Queen said, pausing to take a dainty bite of her food, “Eat first, we will discuss the specifics afterwards.”

“Yes, mother,” Roman said, barely suppressing a sigh with years of practice.

There was a reason Roman’s parents always announced these things at breakfast, at least in Roman’s mind, and that was because the lovely food the chefs had prepared for them now simply tasted like sawdust in Roman’s mouth. The dread at the prospect of being followed and watched and reported on every minute of every day was pooling in his stomach and made it hard to eat anything. He was forced to, though, his parents wouldn’t let him leave until he’d finished his share.

Announcements like these would typically sour the rest of the day for Roman too, no matter what he was doing. They especially liked to give these announcements on Roman’s very few free days - because then he couldn’t even train through the frustration. Now his plans to sit and draw in the gardens were ruined. Roman couldn’t draw when he was worked up like this. 

“Throughout the week,” The Queen explained after they had all finished eating - a timeframe that felt like an eternity for Roman - “Potential guards we have picked out of our most recent lineup of new recruits will be presenting themselves to you, you will pick one of them.”

Roman would take such a small hint of relief. Even if all of these potential guards were hand picked by his parents, Roman would at least get to choose between them. Hopefully he would be able to work out which of them would be the least unpleasant to be around.

“They will guard you at all times,” The Queen continued, “Aside from during your training and lessons, and they will report back to us just as your teachers do, to ensure your safety and integrity remain intact.”

Roman almost let his emotions show on his face, though he was quick to make sure he remained stoic and composed. All the time? Did that mean they’d be ‘watching over him’ whilst he slept, too? Would he not get even a single moment of peace? Surely that would mean… his parents would certainly find out about things he didn’t want them knowing if that was the case. 

Roman was doomed. 

—

“I just don’t know what to do, Thomas,” Roman cried as he paced the small study back and forth. His advisor - a man named Thomas, who was surprisingly kind for someone appointed by Roman’s parents - “How am I supposed to choose a guard? Do I get to read their application letters? How will I know who I am supposed to pick?”

Roman couldn’t truly vent about his problems, not to Thomas or any of the staff. It seemed whenever he tried it would always get back to his parents somehow and the staff member would be punished or fired. This - venting about the trivial part of the issue - was really all he could do. It only helped a little, but at least it helped.

“I suppose I could request your parents allow you to read the candidate’s letters?” Thomas offered, “But really, sire, I wouldn’t panic so much, you’ll get to meet each of them in person through the week. Just see who you feel to be a good fit. You’re a good judge of character, Your Highness, I think you can do it.”

It may not be the thing that was really causing his turmoil, but Thomas’ reassuring words did help at least a little. Roman breathed a sigh of relief, “If you can, that would be wonderful… but don’t press them for it if not, I wouldn’t want you getting into trouble.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Thomas said, bowing his head as he took a note, “The first candidate will be here tomorrow at nine, make sure you are ready for them.”

Taking a deep breath, Roman nodded. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about waking up on time, since he was more than certain he wouldn’t be able to get any decent sleep tonight regardless.

—-

It had been four days, Roman had seen twelve people come through the throne room and not one of them had stood out to him as someone Roman would be willing to have hanging around him all the time. Three of them had actively scared him, though he supposed being large, muscular and menacing was something a guard should be. They just hadn’t sat well with Roman. Five of them had looked downright mean. The looks on their faces angry or condescending, Roman thought he wouldn’t be able to stay sane and put together if he ended up with one of them. The others had simply felt off in a way Roman couldn’t hope to describe. 

And then, on the second last day Roman had to choose, there was him. ‘Pretty’ had been his first thought, which he had quickly brushed off. He couldn’t be thinking like that. 

The guard was, of course, dressed like the others had been, though this one wore a cloak with a bird pin attached over his armour. He wasn’t obviously muscular, though he was tall and held himself in such a way that made Roman sure he would deal with any threat swiftly and effortlessly. Shaggy black hair almost hid the way his stormy grey eyes darted around the room to land on him, lounging in his throne. He attempted to exude the energy his parents liked him to have - an energy that made it seem like he had no cares in the world. He wanted this guy to think Roman didn’t care that he was here in the slightest. 

“Which one is this?” Roman barked to Thomas, who sat a little ways away from him, a scroll on the side. He noticed the guard frown out of the corner of his eye.

“One of the Aynesworth’s old Guard, Sire,” Thomas replied, quickly flipping through his scroll. Roman hummed with a nod, turning to look back at the guard, who had since kneeled on the plush carpet.

“Rise,” Roman commanded, the guard did so with a slight shake - Roman wondered if he was nervous, he could understand why - but most of the other guards had either been uncaring or looked down on him, this difference was interesting to him, “Will you introduce yourself or shall we continue to stare at each other?”

“Wynter,” The guard said quickly - “Um, Virgil, Virgil Wynter, Your Highness.”

Very nervous, it seemed. Roman thought that might be a good thing, though. At least it was different. Roman couldn’t help but notice more about him as minutes went on - he was thin, too thin, like he hadn’t had enough to eat. The way his eyes darted around seemed to be something he did with nerves, always checking his surroundings. Roman supposed that vigilance was a good quality in a guard, though this man didn’t hold himself like any guard he’d ever met. 

“This one,” Roman said, looking back over to Thomas, who looked surprised at the outburst. Roman was a little surprised too, but something drew him to this stranger.

“Are you sure, sire?” Thomas asked, Roman frowned - if he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have said that, “Don’t you want to meet the others?”

“No,” Roman said, tone a little too sharp, a little too petulant. Roman hated the way he himself was acting.  “He’s the one I want.”

Sighing, Thomas noted something down on his scroll and looked back towards the guard, who was now just standing there in the middle of the room - Roman couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly out of place, “In that case,” Thomas grabbed his attention back, “I shall let the Queen and King know immediately - and have letters delivered to the other potential guards post haste -” He stood up, making his way over to Wynter. Roman watched as Thomas whispered something to the guard before heading to a side door tucked away in the back of the throne room. 

Now that they were alone - aside from the guards posted on the throne room doors, of course - Roman’s eyes found this new guard again. Once again he looked him over, trying to figure out what was so off about him. There was just something that didn’t quite fit into the mould his parents had set out. All of the other guards he’d been presented with were at least somewhat similar. Wynter wasn’t. Roman wondered if there was something else about him that had made his parents pick him out. It was in his favour, certainly, but it still didn’t make sense. 

Now that he was done with choosing a guard, Roman wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do now. As far as he was aware it meant that he would be free until the end of the week - he wasn’t foolish enough to think that his parents wouldn’t just schedule more training instead. 

“Your highness,” Said a small page boy, who had appeared by his throne without Roman’s notice and was now offering him a piece of parchment with a note on it. He took it, and the page bowed and scurried off as Roman read it. He sighed.

“Wynter,” Roman called in the most commanding tone he could manage as he stood up and walked over, “The Queen approves of you and requires we spend the afternoon in each other's - company…”

Company? Roman re-read the note with a frown, that made no sense at all - why would his mother want them to spend time together? Last time he’d gotten to know a member of staff she’d been taken away. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Wynter said with a polite bow of his head. It took a few seconds for Roman to realise why the Queen wanted them to talk - she had hired this guard to spy on him, after all, and she was more likely to find things out if Roman trusted Wynter enough to tell him things. Roman almost groaned aloud. This was going to be painful.

Eventually, after much deliberation, Roman decided that he needed to do as she said. He wouldn’t get away with not talking to Wynter, after all, Wynter would tell her he hadn’t. “So-” he started, not quite anticipating how awkward that would sound, “Would you like to see the gardens? They’re lovely this time of year," he asked. Wynter looked a little surprised, but made an aborted move to shrug before stopping himself.

“I cannot control where you go, Your Highness,” He said, ducking his head so that Roman couldn’t look into his eyes. Roman frowned. 

“I am asking your opinion, Wynter,” Roman said back, a little bit more harsh than he would’ve liked - he hated acting like his parents. He was really hoping he would be able to get Wynter somewhere he could talk to him a little more genuinely - if not entirely. Wynter gasped - barely a sharp intake of breath, but Roman noticed - he shifted awkwardly and Roman couldn’t fathom what was so wrong.

“Um…” He said, looking away, Roman simply waited for an answer and wondered why he was so nervous. “Yes, your highness, the uh- the gardens sound like a great idea.” He says it like he’s forcing the words through his teeth. 

Well, Roman thought, he best not dwell on it. He already knew having a guard was going to be awful, so it didn’t matter. He only nodded before clapping his hands twice - a signal for the guards on the door to open it for them - before silently leading the way through the castle back outside. The entire way Roman was aware of Wynter watching him, following behind like a shadow and making Roman feel uneasy and all kinds of bad as they went.

Outside, Roman began to give Wynter a tour. The gardens were one of his favourite places in the castle - and they looked especially lovely in early autumn - so he spent a lot of time there. If they were supposed to make conversation, Roman thought it would be fairly safe to simply talk about the gardens. All the while he kept an eye on Wynter and maintained his facade of indifference and poise even though he was incredibly excited to talk about all of the interesting kinds of flowers and plants they had here. This place was practically one of his only windows to the outside world, of course he loved it, but he couldn’t just say that. 

About halfway through his attempt at a nonchalant and uncaring tour of the garden, he started noticing Wynter frowning and almost glaring at the plants when he wasn’t looking. Turning, Roman raised an eyebrow, he wondered what had Virgil disliking the garden so obviously.

“Do you not like them?” Roman asked, making a gesture to the flowers around them, Wynter went to say something, but Roman could already see the lie forming on his tongue, so he held up a finger to interrupt, Wynter jumped, “Be honest.”

“The gardens are… objectively, beautiful, sire,” Wynter said slowly after a long, tense moment. Roman narrowed his eyes, but Wynter continued, “But… despite its beauty, I can’t help but think there could have been a better use for all the money spent here.”

Roman had to lean closer to hear the end of his sentence with how quietly he’d whispered it. Wynter glanced around, eyes darting around as if he was expecting other guards to jump out of the bushes and drag him off. Frowning, Roman watched his new guard - with his lowered head and slightly vacant expression - and tried to work out what on earth was going on. 

“What… whatever do you mean?” Roman asked, tilting his head a little. The gardens had been expensive, yes, though he didn’t know exactly how much had been spent on them, he just wasn’t sure why Wynter was complaining about it. He realised abruptly that he must’ve said the wrong thing, though, when Wynter whipped around, pure rage on his face for just a second long enough to make Roman flinch away before he seemed to immediately calm down completely. It was almost as impressive as Roman’s own mask. He couldn’t fathom why he was so upset. 

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, Wynter spoke again, “Well, I- suppose, maybe the money may have been better spent improving… um… quality of life, for the townsfolk?”

“Why would they need that?” Roman asked with far too little thought put into his words first, even he knew it this time as he said it, and oh look, there was that raging anger again, “Aren’t they all already happy? I thought-”

He trailed off, letting the both of them fall into silence since Wynter didn’t seem to want to respond to him. Eventually, Roman gave him a look - wanting an answer - and he sighed, “No, they’re not happy,” He said, clasping his hands together in front of him, Roman felt like he’d been slapped. “Many people in the kingdom are suffering.”

Instinctually, Roman thought Wynter must be lying, trying to get to him, why would his parents - much less Thomas and the rest of the staff - lie to him about the state of the denizens of their kingdom? Everyone in the castle said the kingdom was doing well, why should he trust this guard who he’d just met twenty minutes ago? “Surely you lie,” Roman said, turning up his nose, “That cannot be true.”

There was a long silence then, and after a while of staring at each other with no real effect on either part, Roman gave up and turned away, resuming his walk around the garden. This time, however, he neglected to continue his tour, he didn’t feel much like talking now, and Wynter seemed to share that sentiment. They didn’t talk again the entire afternoon

After they’d left the garden, Roman resumed his more princely persona entirely. He’d let his guard slip just a little out in the garden, now his walls were right back up. He decided he wouldn’t interact with Wynter unless he really needed to - and that was really just to snap orders at him. If Wynter was going to be rude and lie to him, Roman saw no reason that he should be nice in return. He was also… well, still terrified that anything he did would get back to his parents now.

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Masterpost | Next -

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 ( if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

Cassian woke up trying to reach for Nesta but instead finding a cold side of bed. He had gone to the rooftop pool with Nesta and safe to say they had a…rough night. He pushed himself up and leaned against the headboard, the bathroom door was open giving him a full view of his fiancé’s back in that pretty white bathing suit. She was putting on mascara, her clothes on the heating rack in the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“Starbucks then my old house. It’s about time I cleared that place up.”

He grimaced, the old house as in the villa she grew up in that have reminders of her dead parents.

He started getting up only to have Nesta push him down, “You didn’t get much sleep last night,” She started fixing her bandanna in the mirror, “Stay. I’ll see you later.”

He rolled his eyes, “You didn’t get much sleep either.”

“That’s why I’m going to Starbucks,” She winked and trotted down the stairs leaving.

Well then he could also get Starbucks.

------

She was waiting in the line, scrolling through Instagram not bothering to look behind her. As she got to the front she smiled at the barista,

“Hey could I have-” a hand came around her waist.

“Caramel macchiato, Venti with extra whip, please.”

The barista smiled, “And for you sir?”

Cassian smiled, “me? Well-“

“He wants a Venti iced hazelnut macchiato, no whip and light ice.”

“Names?”

Cassian pinched her waist, “Nessie and Cassian.”

Nesta threw him a harsh look.

They moved along to the end.

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping you clear up your parent’s villa.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You know sweetheart you chug down coffee like its water I don’t think it’s healthy.”

“Shut up Cassian.”

The baristo handed their drinks to them giving Nesta a flirtatious smile which Nesta returned only to piss Cassian off.

Cassian growled.

She pulled him out of the coffeehouse before he could make a scene.

“Did you bring your car?” she asked him, because she hadn’t, she was planning on taking an uber.

He grunted a response she assumed was a yes.

As they got to his car, he opened the car door for her but didn’t look at her. She rolled her eyes.

She got in his black Bentley, as he got in next to her she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Baby.”

No answer, “Baby!”

“Yes?” He turned, his lips so close to hers.

“I love you.” She pressed her lips to his, it always worked.

As she sat back, his hand went on her thigh.

“Are you sure you should be going there wearing that, babe? I mean as gorgeous as you look, will you be able to move around in it?”

She looked down at her baby blue Bardot tie front and high waist shorts.

“You’d be surprised sweetie.”

As they pulled up to the rustic villa Nesta sighed. Home.

She jogged up to the front door and opened it.

After all the Archeron sisters had moved out with their respective boyfriends and their father…passed the house was left the exact same way. She assumed it was an Archeron thing as after her mother died everything was left the same in her chambers as well.

She sipped her coffee.

“I’ll get started on clearing up the cellar babe, you get started upstairs ok?”

She mindlessly nodded heading upstairs; she had somewhere she needed to go. Something that was begging her attention.

She trotted down the marble hallway into her mother’s second room. The room she didn’t share with her father that she slept more and more in after their marriage was breaking. She went in and gasped. If Nesta didn’t know better she’d think her mother had gone to a party, because the room was immaculate, but still somehow like her mother.

Her mother’s perfume slanted on the table as if she’d just used it, her coat slung over her arm chair, a corner of her duvet folded over.

Her eyes got watery at the jewellery box on her mother’s dressing table.

She opened the box and sighed at the tune playing which she always sung along too and did so now.

“…and when you speak angels sing from above and every word seems to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be-”

She broke off at the twin bracelets in the box. She had given it her mother, when she was 13, in the morning for safekeeping because school wouldn’t allow it and forgot to get it back.

White gold chain bracelets with white gold hearts on them. She slid the bracelets on and underneath them, now out in the open from their absence were…pen drives. They had a gold geometric stick.

She giggled at how classy her mother is. Was. Her smile faded.

But what would her mother need to hide in a pen drive in her jewellery box of all places. Footsteps coming upstairs, she slipped the pen drives inside her pocket and closed the jewellery box.

Hands on her waist, lips skimming her neck.

“Clearing up, baby?”

She turned, “I was just about to start.”

“Oh really?” he looked around, “Who’s room was this?”

“My mom’s chambers, her second room.”

“Funny how she left everything for you. You must’ve been her favourite.”

“I was.”

They had countless arguments on this. Him defending Feyre and Elain, her standing her own ground. He was under the impression that Feyre was a villain in her story. She was. And Cassian wouldn’t accept that. He tried to justify Feyre’s actions. Nesta ended up not talking to him for 4 days, because on that topic she never argued for too long, just shut down.

This is why he didn’t push an argument today. She was trying to fix the bond between her sisters. But when the wound is fresh it doesn’t heal as quickly.

She was meeting them tomorrow. Ugh.

At least Cress would be there.

“My heads hurting I wanna go home.” He nodded and led her downstairs. As they got in the car Nesta felt like a hole was burning her pocket.

“Babe you ok?” He asked.

She nodded. Looking back onto the clear expanse of her childhood estate.

“You weren’t wearing those bracelets when we went in. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

She smiled, “I was getting in the car for high school and mum came out to give me my watch and she said, ‘Nesta jewellery isn’t allowed at school’ so I gave these for here to keep safe and forgot to take it back, she’s kept it safe for 11 years.”

He reached over and kissed her cheek. “They look amazing on you.”

-----

She clicked off her phone and tried to pull her brown mini skirt lower.

“Cresseida says she’s still on her flight from Manhattan. She should be here in a couple of hours.” Feyre and Elain both nodded, Elain stood.

“Want coffee?” Feyre nodded.

“Wait, Elain it’s my house I’ll-” Elain waved her off getting out three mugs. Nesta went and sat opposite Feyre.

“No need to make anything I have a stash of frappe’s in the fridge.”

Elain put the cups away and started picking out flavours.

Nesta took a deep breath.

“So I went to our old villa with Cassian yesterday…” Elain stopped her rattling of the bottles, Feyre sat up, “And I found these from mom’s old jewellery box.” She took out the pen drives.

“Cute. Have you seen what’s in them?” Feyre asked.

“No I thought I’d show you guys as well, just in case it’s a list of bad people.”

Feyre chuckled, “You watch Blacklist too much.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and got her projector out.

Elain came passing around the glass bottles she had topped with whipped cream and red straws.

Feyre gave Nesta a look.

“What? I brought this projector and literally haven’t used it since.”

She plugged it in.

A video started playing.

“Momma I can’t reach!”

A woman came into the shot, picking up the little girl in the middle of the orchid.  

“It’s ok sweetie! Mama’s here.” She picked out the lemons and handed one.

A male voice from behind the camera said, “Nesta look at the camera darling!”

The woman turned showing her pregnant tummy and pointing the camera out to Nesta.

“Daddy I want to pick a lemon.”

The camera was passed onto to someone else and Randolph Archeron ran to Nesta taking her from his wife and placing her behind his head. Nesta picked a lemon and giggled showing it to her mother who was behind her. Adelaide took the lemon from her and went on her tip toes. Nesta leaning back to kiss her mother on the lips.

The video froze for a few seconds.

“Nesta what is-” Elain asked.

“It’s a home video, from when we were younger.”

Feyre glued her eyes back to the wall.

The video changed.

Nesta, Adelaide and Feyre were picking and posing with oranges. Elain holding the camera.

“Smile!!!!” her voice said.

Nesta dropped an orange.

“OMG Nesta!” Elain shrieked, “You’re ruing my shot!”

Nesta picked up the orange, “Ok geez.”

Feyre had started peeling the orange in her hand causing their mother to burst into laughter at Elain’s shriek.

Again another video slid in, a longer one this time.

“Come on Feyre!” Nesta shouted.

“Cominggg.” The camera started running towards Nesta and Elain.

“We were really cute,” Elain said.

Feyre nodded, “I can’t believe she kept these. Where even are we?”

“In Verona I think.” Nesta said.

They were wearing hats too big for their heads.

Elain stopped.

“Dad can I go with you I’m tired.”

Randolph chuckled from behind the camera and held out his hand.

“You were such a daddy’s girl,” Nesta said to Elain.

Elain swiped cream on Nesta’s cheek.

“Get Cassian to lick that off later.”

“Idiot.”

“Come on Fey,” Adelaide picked up Feyre and took Nesta’s hand.

She took their hats off, and held them.

They made their way through the tomato fields into the house. Nesta took the camera from Feyre and ran into the hall. She set the camera down on a counter and started dancing on her own.

“What are you doing Nes?” Adelaide came and picked Nesta up giving her a piggyback; Nesta giggled and clutched her tight.

“She loved you a lot,” Elain looked at Nesta, who was staring at the screen. She didn’t answer, unable to at the longing in Elain’s voice and in Feyre’s eyes. They had always been their father’s child; Nesta had always belonged to her mother. She had stayed with her mother till the end.

Little Nesta in the video said to her mother, “Where’s Feyre?!”

Her mother chuckled, “I don’t know sweetie.”

“Let’s find out, we shall go on a secret mission,” She took the camera off the counter and shoved in her mother’s hands,

“You hold the camera.”

“Oop, ok wait for me,” They ran through the house hiding next to the door look into the kitchen. Feyre had taken out an easel and had started painting.

“Honestly, she’s already started painting, Help me God,” Adelaide laughed at mini Nesta’s sass.

Nesta burst through the door, “Oh Feyre, whatcha doing?”

Feyre looked up and grabbed Nesta, “Good thing you’re here Nes, I needed someone to paint.”

Nesta flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder, “Of course.”

After a few minutes of Nesta fidgeting, Feyre screamed at her to "Sit still Nesta!!" But Nesta kept on looking over at what Elain was doing in the garden.

Adelaide sat down on the kitchen table, the camera jolting.

The video flicked to the next one.

Adelaide was walking up the stairs.

“We seem to have a messy situation downstairs. Proceeding with caution.” She flipped the camera hiding on the landing to show Randolph and his 3 daughters making cookies, Nesta as the first person to notice squealing,

“Momma!!” She ran into her arms smearing her with flour and icing.

“You smell like cookie dough!!!”

Their cookie making continued, throwing flour at each other.

The clip ended. Another one rolled.

“Welcome to our house tour at night.” Adelaide started.

Adelaide started walking through explaining the pictures on the wall.

“There’s me and the girls. Me and Nesta. Randolph with a very tired Nesta. Aw, look at my baby. Nesta with Oliver. Good god if he wasn’t like a brother to her then I would’ve predicted these two would’ve got married.” She laughed, “Well the guy who does get married to Nesta must be a really lucky man. There’s Feyre with her canvas look at her artist in the making. Elain with her flowers that she grew herself, my little gardener!” She moved along to some other picture her voice growing less fond, “Mine and Randolph’s wedding pictures, our anniversary. Lord knows where he is nowadays.” She went quiet, “Anyway let’s check on the little ones the nanny must have put them to sleep.”

She went into a big room, where Nesta was sleeping. The room was light and airy with fairy lights on the wall and Polaroid pictures.

“There’s my baby,” she caressed a hand down Nesta’s face pressing a kiss to her face. Nesta wriggled.

“Goodnight baby.”

She moved into another room, a pink one this time, “There’s baby Elain with her little elf doll.” Elain lay in a plush pink bed in the middle clutching onto a knitted elf doll. Her mother fixed her covers and pressed a kiss to her head.

The next room was covered in with plush toys, the walls covered with stuck on paintings she did at school and at home.

Feyre was still wearing her apron. Adelaide tutted, placing the camera on the desk and holding up a sleeping mini Feyre getting her out of the apron. She put her back to sleep and pulled the covers over her. Pressing a kiss to her forehead as well.

She looked at the camera.

“Can’t wait till they grow up. Hopefully they won’t turn out like me or Randolph. Oh Lord just let them be happy. Especially Nesta. I overheard her telling her teddy that “Daddy doesn’t love her,” I hope she finds someone who does. Who chooses her and keeps on choosing her every day. And this one-” she stroked Feyre, “she should get out from behind that easel every once in a while, just like how Elain needs someone who will be gentle with her as she is gentle with her flowers. I’ll probably show this video to my grandkids, embarrass their mums.” She laughed at the thought.

A door opened and shut.

“Randolph’s here. Let’s find out where he’s been. So bye future and old me and Nesta, Elain and Feyre. I love all of you.”

The video clicked off.

Nesta was toying with her ring. Tears slipping down her face as she knew it was slipping down Elain and Feyre’s. Her mum would have loved Cassian. Well, maybe not at first but…yes she really would have. She smiled at her sisters. Not being able to say anything.  

-------

She had showed Cassian, obviously.

And he’d…well.

He was a fan of their mother.

And then she’d started crying,

“Baby, are you ok?”

“I miss her.”

“well couldn’t we get all those pictures she was talking about in the video and bring it here.”

She hadn’t thought of that, “But the house is in Verona.”

“Book tickets for us tomorrow so we can go the day after.”

She paused for a minute then squealed,

“Baby, baby!! You are the best.” She kissed him deeply.

She broke away smiling mischievously down at him.

“Can we take the yacht?”

She squealed again kissing him even deeper.