Dew sat beside Rhyddid at the high table with Efa between her and Neidr. She did as Neidr instructed, keeping quiet among the chatter of the room, and ate her meals delicately. Talk in the court would be of how ill-behaved humans were and their disgusting tendencies. So, to behave as she always did would be enough of a deterrent to the inevitable attacks. 

There would be five courses and Dew would do her best to finish each one. Fae did not want their food to be wasted. Neidr asked for her to report back on what she liked and didn’t like and Neidr promised to get the chefs to avoid the foods from then on. 

Dew worried about Efa. Her sister often picked her plate. She ate well earlier because she’d gone the morning without anything. 

“You are stiff, Blodeuwedd,” Rhyddid casually noted while they moved onto the third course. 

“Dew, if it pleases you.” Only her father would call her by her full name and never when he was in a good mood. 

“Dew,” her nickname rolled off his tongue in delight, “what troubles you?”

“I… I am doing my best for first impressions,” she explained before thanking the server for taking her plate. 

“They will settle with time.” Rhyddid raised his goblet to his lips and Dew watched as his throat bobbed with every gulp. 

She jerked away before she could be caught staring and refocused on the next meal. 

Efa did well beside her, unable to clean her plate but leaving the food more than taste tested. 

“I have commissioned a saddle for you. Tomorrow, I would like you to ride with me.” He continued to avoid her gaze and watch the table full of nobles’ chatter. 

“I planned to visit the stables tomorrow after the kitchens.”

“I will meet you there after midday then.”

Their conversation dwindled to a stop. Dew felt a bit more comfortable with him. He did not touch or demand of her. His tone and words were polite and gentle to her ears.

“Is the food good, Efa?” Dew turned her attention to her sister. 

Efa nodded but refused her gaze. She kept her eyes firmly on her plate. One of her hands bunched up her skirt into a tight fist. 

Dew grabbed her hand and for a while, she sat there like that. Just holding her sister’s hand and watching her new court. Very few glanced up at her, either too engrossed in those around them or too scared of Rhyddid. Either way, she was grateful for the peace of the moment. 

Dew saw to it that Efa returned to her rooms safely. Her ladies also resided on the same corridor so they would reach her if she needed anything. They insisted on dressing her down for the evening, but Dew refused. She would dress down with the help of a maid and unwind alone. 

Not too far from Efa would be the royal suite. Her guards saw her safely inside where Rhyddid patiently waited. 

His helmet rested on the low table in front of the fire. He sunk into the chair’s cushions, legs spread wide and hands resting on his thighs. 

“Dew, come here.” He watched her approach at his command with hooded eyes. She stopped beside his chair. “Did your sister find the supper overwhelming?”

“She is adjusting,” Dew defended immediately. 

Rhyddid nodded, unoffended. 

“If there is something that can make her feel more comfortable, I will do it.” And Dew believed him. “Come here.” He patted his thigh. 

Dew’s cheeks heated at the implication. She stepped between his open legs and lowered herself down onto his thigh. 

Rhyddid chuckled, a sound that vibrated up her spine, and he wrapped an arm around her waist in a loose grip. 

“You are very stiff.” He rubbed the part of her arm he could reach. “Look at me, Dew.” 

She did as told and stared into his inhuman eyes. It might have been her reading too much into it, but he looked soft as he gazed at her. His pupils rounded into a comfortable circle encased by a bright green.

Rhyddid nodded, suddenly solemn. He removed his glove with his teeth, throwing the article to the floor. With a bare hand, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles then traced along her cheekbone with his thumb. 

“What do you see?” He asked after a moment of silence. 

Dew searched his face for any hidden clues on what answer he’d find suitable. He gave nothing away with his soft expression and bright eyes.

“You’re like the snowdrops,” she murmured. His skin and hair, an unblemished white. The first thing her eyes noted when he revealed his face to her. 

“Snowdrops?” His brow furrowed together and in the calm of the night, it was endearing. 

The bloodshed from earlier faded. A stark contrast to the Fae with her now. 

“It’s a flower.” One of her favorites, but she kept that tidbit to herself. “A white flower that droops down with little petals.”

“Then, I shall be your blodyn, your flower.” Her face heated again at the nickname. “You shall be my Dew bach. My gem.” 

“As you wish.” Because it’s not like she could refuse. 

“You should retire now.” Rhyddid released her and ushered her to stand. “Come to me would you need something.” 

Dew nodded, voice gone, and slipped into her room. A maid helped her to bed before she was left officially alone. She tossed and turned for a bit until she settled into her pillow. 

A pleasant end to a horrific day.