A Storm of Flames and Deceit

XXIV. With What Is Unsaid

Nephele
Eris Vansera is a proud son of a bitch, but I suppose I knew that already. I don't know why I wanted him to apologize so bad. It's not like it matters anyway. There are way more pressing problems afoot than my feelings. With any luck, I'll forget why I'm mad entirely.
I'll forget about Eris entirely.
The court of nightmares was distracting enough. Did it have to be so damn literal? It's all ebony and darkness and depressive interior. Even though the court is still asleep with noon, the walls still drip in despair. It's almost manufactured.
Eris' arm is like a bonfire around my shoulders, his touch blazing against mine. "Is your skin hotter than usual?" I whisper up at him, unable to help the curiosity. He always ran a bit warm, whatever flame lurk beneath that marble skin.
He had already been looking at me, but when my eyes meet his, he looks away, shrugging with a stiff jaw. "It's drafty down here," he replies simply. "And you're wearing next to nothing."
I set my jaw in return, looking away. It was delusional. For a moment this morning, I thought his amber eyes must've blazed with desire, but I can see now that they were embers of anger. I wonder why he cares to be angry at me. It's not like he cares what I think.
Intrusively, I wonder if he can love at all. I can't help but question the abrupt curiosity. Even if the idea of true romance makes me want to winnow to the continent and change my name, I do wonder about him.
It's different for me. I'm sure I could grow to love someone with time, but the idea of that sort of commitment right now terrified me more than nearly anything. In my heart, I feel as though I've only just begun my life. I'm not ready to tie myself down yet.
It's not as like I have a choice though. I know that. I'm aware that I will marry Eris. There will be nothing to save me from that eternal sort of vow. Maybe I had just wanted something casual with him, but he wouldn't even have that.
In some ways, Eris was right last night in the hot air balloon. I am naive. I'm naive because I guess that I thought for a second that he might want to be my friend. That he might like me even a little as a person.
I decide to ignore the sting, rolling my shoulders as we follow the blonde man- Keir- into some sort of meeting room. My eyes blink in adjustment. It's large enough, fitting whatever circle the High Lord and High Lady keep, but it's small enough to be intimate.
Intimate and intimidating.
A man and woman step forward and away from a massive round table at the center of the room- I would infer them to be the High Pair. The woman is beautiful, long, graceful brown hair, kind eyes, freckled cheeks. Her mate is taller, dark and charming with his amethyst eyes and regal face.
"Eris," Rhysand says in greeting. "It is nice to see you again." He doesn't mean it. That much, I can tell.
"And you," Eris replies, giving the man and the woman each a charged shake of the hand, his hand flexing against his side before he remembers to find my fingers again.
"And you must be Nephele," Feyre says, a sweet smile on her face, pity already straining in her blue eyes. Good. I can work with that.
I nod, feigning nervousness, glancing at Eris before I give the woman a wobbly smile. "I am," I say, voice shy. "It's nice to meet you both." I glance at Eris again, as if looking for approval.
Rhysand smiles hesitantly, rage in his eyes when he looks between Eris and me. I hardly had to do a thing. They already believe Eris is a monster. I just need to convince them that I'm a damsel. "Your power," he seems to taste the air. "It's very interesting. I've never seen a proclivity like yours for storms."
I look at the ground shyly. "Yes," I smile at them quietly. "Eris says that my power drew him to me. That's how he knew to save me."
"Save you?" A male questions disbelievingly from the back of the room. I glance at him, strong arms crossed over his broad chest, wings tucked behind him like a threat, loose black hair tied into a half bun.
"Cassian," a female warns, golden and beautiful, dressed entirely in red. She turns her attention to me, smiling prettily, refusing to look at Eris. "I'm Mor. It's lovely to meet you, Nephele."
I smile in return, like the stranger makes me feel safe. That's what she wants, anyway. "You can call me Neph," I tell the room before stammering, "if it pleases you- that is."
"Let's sit," Eris says impatiently. "There will be enough time for merriment and banter at the feast tonight."
Feyre casts a wary glance at Rhys before mumbling, "fair enough." The room sits, and I examine the unspoken two in the room. One is a male across the room who is so handsome it startles me. He's tall and coated in shadows and tattoos, deep brown eyes, floppy black hair. He's not rugged or regal like his brothers. He's pretty, like Eris- which is something I'm more attracted to, I realize. His wings are positively massive, and his shoulders hang heavy like his frown as he looks at my betrothed.
So that's Azriel.
The other person in the room is a short woman, alluring gray eyes, a short black bob. I don't know her name, and I have no mind to ask when Eris takes his seat, pulling me sharply onto his thigh. I let myself swallow, face burning, though the reaction is not completely faked.
It's an overwhelm. I can't even process the hornets in my stomach before the short, unnamed woman grabs my wrist from where she sits beside Eris and I, examining my scars with fingernails so sharp I nearly yelp. Another blink and Eris has swatted the terrifying woman's hand without so much as a shred of fear, only an intense warning stare.
The woman cares not. The only indication that she noticed is how she absentmindedly rubs the spot on her wrist that he had touched like a burn. It's entirely possible that Eris laid a blazing hand on her if only to get her hands off me. "What did that to your body, girl?" She asks, solely focused on me. I don't fake my shiver, burrowing a bit closer into Eris' warmth.
"Amren," Rhysand snaps at the woman, dissatisfied. Amren doesn't care, she still stares at me, even as Eris takes my wrists and hides them from the room, like he could tell how much I hated their stares.
"It's fine," I say in a wobbly voice, letting the lie work off my lips. "I- um- I was eleven when Hybern took me as his prisoner. Said he could feel my power from miles away." Discreetly, Eris rubs my spine gently, and I wonder why he does it. How can he tell the tremor in my voice isn't entirely an act to draw sympathy? He comforts me without a question, and they can't even see him. Still, I power on. "He put me into a cellar painted in faebane, injected me with the same substance twice daily in the place of nourishment. I was shackled in the teeth of magic sucking creatures for over two centuries," I glance at Eris whose eyes burn with fury. Good. "His methods were based on an ancient practice of power subversion. Women used to be confined for a few decades in order to peak their fertility and increase their power before they reproduce. When I was of age, I was meant to be bred by Hybern himself, to carry his children. I was only ever supposed to be confined for a few decades, never centuries. I'm not sure what power runs through my veins now. I'm just sure I'm lucky to have been found by Eris." I look at him lovingly, like a dog begging for approval. I look at him like a foolish girl in love with the first person who showed her any kindness.
He returns a look that I cannot place, but one I'm sure will help, his hand possessively squeezing my thigh.
I take notice of the absence of sound in the room, the daemati high pair communicating with their circle. It's a battle not to smirk triumphantly. I want the threat of Eris having a powerful offspring on the table. I want it to seem like Eris is using me and my foolishness for posterity, unbeknownst to me. I want it to seem like information I wasn't supposed to share.
Information that might draw out Eris' temper.
"Seems like it might've been smarter for him to have used you in the war," Amren breaks the silence, and I nearly laugh at her harshness. The woman truly has no filter.
Instead, I shake my head adamantly. "No, I never would have fought for Hybern," I let my eyes go wide and terrified. "I would've tried to run." I don't say that I would've fought Hybern right back. Because if I establish myself as a fighter, what reasoning would I have for not leaving Eris?
"That's enough about my Nephele," Eris says possessively to the High Pair, feigning boredom. "We have other business to discuss."
...
I'm hardly able to follow anything that comes next. They speak of events I hadn't known happened, people I've never met. I've been in captivity too long. The world has changed, and I'm not sure if I can keep up.
Through it all, Eris is an anchor, his hand gently brushing across my thigh throughout the entire meeting. It's maddening, to say the least. Still, I try to focus on shyly looking at Azriel. It shouldn't be as difficult as it is, considering how objectively attractive he is. But I can think of little else other than Eris beneath me, his scent of a brisk autumn wind, his warm fingers.
Still, I manage to catch Azriel's eye once, looking away shyly, faking a blush. He might dance with me. He might not. Maybe I won't even need a justification for the circle of night to believe Eris is cruel to me. It would seem they already believe it.
I am grateful when Lucien arrives though. I nearly leap into his arms with a hug before I remember myself, deigning to just give him a small, discreet smile. He returns it before all of us are ushered the revilement in the grand hall of the court of nightmares.
Eris keeps his arm firmly around my waist as we walk, keeping his fingers splayed across my bare hip. I feel even more dizzy then. There's a crowd of people dancing wickedly, rows of massive tables that are stacked full with roasts and grapes and cheeses and breads, but I'm not sure I can even eat at this point- my stomach is in knots. My appetite has shifted to something that cannot quite be served on a platter.
I look away from Eris, glancing at Azriel out of the corner of my eye, finding him talking quietly to his brother. This isn't going to work. I don't know why I thought I knew how to flirt. The most practice I have is with Eris, and look how that turned out.
I forget all about it when Eris takes my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look at him so sharply I gasp. "You'll dance with me tonight," he says with a quiet venom that makes me shiver as he leads me to the dance floor.
I blink, recovering from the intensity of his tone. "I thought-"
"You needn't make me jealous tonight," he says decidedly, in the sort of way that makes me believe he only just decided this. "They already think the worst of me."
I nod. That much, I had already seen. Still... "I don't know how to dance," I blurt because his intensity was starting to get to me. Not to mention, I'm supposed to be mad at him. I am mad at him...
I think.
"I'll lead," he tells me, stepping closer, bracing his hands on my hips. I swallow, looking up at him, only inches from my face as I nod slowly. Helplessly.
The music picks up again, the start of a new song, but I can't see the couples around us. All I see is the fire in his amber eyes. He lifts his hand from my waist, slowly brushing his knuckles down my arm, drawing goosebumps to the surface of my too chilled skin by the time his fingers reach mine. He angles my arm upwards, brushing his fingers back down my arm as he walks in a tight circle, stopping when he is fully behind me, his breath on my throat. I shut my eyes to keep from going weak in the knees.
"There's been a change of plans for us here in night," he whispers hotly into my ear. I frown, tilting my head, looking up at him.
"What?" I furrow my brow.
"I've learned something since Dawn, something I can't risk anyone knowing. A weakness Rhysand and Feyre would be more than happy to exploit if they found out," he tells me quietly, guiding my hand backwards onto his hip. "They'll need to look into your mind rather than mine. It's better this way. You know less secrets about my court. I can't risk them knowing certain things if I choose to let them in."
I nod as he lifts me by the waist, briefly spinning me in a half circle before setting me down. It makes sense. If the meeting was any indication, I know hardly the tip of the iceberg about the current state of the world. "Will you tell me what you learned after I let them in?" I ask quietly. "When it's safe for me to know."
He swallows, looking away, even as he spins me into his chest. "When you're ready," he replies finally.
I scoff. "You mean when you're ready?"
To my surprise, he doesn't disagree with me, instead nodding curtly. "Yes."
I drop my voice even lower, to the point where he must read my lips to understand me under the music. At least that's why I assume he stares at my lips so fiercely. "Are you going to apologize for last night?"
"My apologies mean nothing," he replies, resting a hand on the side of my neck, a hand on my bare waist. "I think my honesty serves you better."
I scoff. "Is this what we're calling honest now, Eris?" I question him. "Because that's quite the paradox you've created: lying about being honest with me."
"It was all true," he says, taking a step closer, eyes blazing. "You needn't pity me. It does me nothing. I didn't lie when I said my childhood was nothing to feel sorry over."
"But it's not the whole truth," I whisper up at him as he dips me. "It never is with you."
"No," he agrees honestly. "It isn't, but I am sorry for deflecting onto you. For speaking so harshly about your wounds. It wasn't necessary. You got the point without such brashness."
I thoroughly didn't expect him to apologize. I didn't think he knew how. All I can manage is the shake of my head. "You can't hurt me with honesty, Eris," I tell him quietly, my chest pressed against his. "You only hurt me with what you don't say."
He looks away shamefully, and I feel it strike in my stomach, compelling me to put my hand on his cheek gently, against all reason. "Let's not talk about it here. Let's not talk about these things tonight," I say, giving him a quiet smile. "I need you to paint a cruel look on your face and dance with me until my feet bleed."
His eyes brighten a bit with mischief as he dips me suddenly, smirking, his hand resting on the base of my neck, pressing with a throbbing dose of pressure as he leans closer. So close I could taste him if I dared. "I can do that," he murmurs hotly on my neck, pulling me closer.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter is long, but then again... I'm definitely not sorry. Actually, I'm more sorry that I made y'all wait after that cliff hanger. I work 8-5 everyday and I've been flat exhausted, but hey! Getting that schmoney for college. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy! Thanks for everyone who interacts- those notifications make my life!!!!