A Vanserra Family Dinner

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ERIS

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ERIS

It was nearly Spring, but the air wasn't getting warmer and flowers weren't preparing to burst from the soil ready to bloom. This didn't bother Eris. He had grown used to the never-changing seasonal magic that kept his father's lands a crisp temperature year-round. Moderate during the day and nearly freezing at night. It had never once wavered in his almost six hundred years of life. As a child and before he'd traveled beyond the borders, his mother would tell stories of blowing snow that trapped people in cottages, the temperature so hot you could comfortably take a dip in the ocean, and flowers that bloomed brightly in every color imaginable. Once he grew old enough to venture out to do his father's bidding, he found that he actually preferred Autumn's weather and harvest hues.

While the Solar Courts up North would soon be welcoming in the next season with elaborate celebrations, he would be partaking in the unnecessary Nynsar festival his father hosted every year to celebrate the end of seeding the fields.

Eris wondered if he could find a suitable reason to excuse himself from the festivities. He'd been pondering it for at least an hour while he brushed clumps of fallen maple leaves off the railing of a rickety, wooden bridge. It was one of many bridges that crossed over frigid streams flowing directly from the Winter Court's snowy mountains.

There must be some plausible story his father would believe. Spying on another court? Sucking up to Fae nobility on the Continent? Cultivating their strained relationship with the Northern-most court? He audibly groaned at that particular thought.

Rhysand wouldn't allow him to step foot within those warded borders during the famed Starfall celebration. For all their talk of backing him to take his father's throne, not a single member of that mysterious court had lifted a finger to help over the past few decades. Not since their heir had been born and Koschei defeated.

Keir, the scheming Steward, was in no rush to aid him either, but Eris wasn't particularly upset by that lack of development. Keir was nearly as old as his father and they rivaled each other for the amount of unnecessary cruelty they had committed over their lives. Though Eris would never admit it, he was grateful he never had to face the nuptials that would have made Keir family. One awful father was enough.

Alliances aside, Starfall would be intriguing. He had never seen it with his own eyes, but he'd heard of its beauty. It had even shown up in his dreams a few times over the years. He'd be willing to brave the death-glances from the Inner Circle if it meant getting a glimpse at a few migrating stars. Being absent from Beron's party would just be an added benefit.

He stopped idly toying with the leaves to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. It wouldn't matter if Rhysand and Feyre even bothered to extend him an invitation. He couldn't leave his mother to attend their Nynsar party alone. It would be too cruel, even for him. Not to mention, he preferred to take note of every noble his brothers mingled with since he constantly suspected they attempted to broker alliances to remove him from the line of succession. He didn't blame them since he had many plans in place that would eliminate each of them if they became a substantial threat.

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