A Storm of Flames and Deceit

2. As Good A Time As Any

Eris
It would seem I do my best work drunk because apparently, I managed to talk her into going to the night court with me. I imagine it had less to do with my drunken persuasion and more to do with the itch in her bones to get back to politics. I knew she ached for it but was too proud to give me the satisfaction, so I don't dare look smug as I retrieve her before we depart, giving her Tuesday bouquet into her skeptical hands.

"You don't have to goad me into going with your usual flowers," she mumbles, setting them down on her dresser. "I already agreed to accompany you."

I frown, shoving my hands in my pockets. "The flowers were never to goad you into anything. I visit town every Tuesday morning, and I buy from the florist there to help with business," I reply, looking away. "I know lavender is your favorite..."

"Town?" My eyes dart back to the curious look on her face. Mother above, I missed the sound of her voice, the way her gray eyes twinkled like an afternoon shower.

"Yes, there's a small town called Arbon not too far from here. It's a perfect representation of autumn and her people," I explain. "I'll have to show you sometime."

She raises a brow. "You thought it would be that easy?"

I grin sheepishly. "I was never going to stop trying."

She rolls her eyes, advancing past me, granting me a good look at her gown. Yes, she had dressed for Night- to my undoing. Her dress was black and silk and making it very difficult for me to concentrate on getting her to forgive me. Beneath her breasts was a gaping asymmetrical cutout, counteracted with the slit in her skirt on her opposite side, her ridiculously long legs on display.

Wiping my mouth just in case I accidentally drooled, I follow after her, trying to stay on her good side as best I can. She's possibly spoken more words to me in the last twenty four hours than she has the past two months. And to my credit, I've given her space. If I would've crowded her, I know in my heart she would've run for the hills.

"How are relations with Night?" She asks me, leaning against the trunk of the apple tree in the heart of our home. "Who do I need to be? What do we need to accomplish?"

I can't help but tilt my head mockingly. "Shouldn't you know? You've read the reports I laid out for you."

She looks briefly surprised before she rights her face, glaring at me, her eyes a warning. "They're reluctantly kissing my ass for what I pulled for Helion," I tell her. "And because of my... promotion."

"You mean to High Lord?" She challenges. I roll my eyes.

"The power speaks words that the crown cannot," I say cryptically, hoping she won't bother with racking me further.

To no avail. "And what do they make of your reluctance to bare the crown?"

I shrug. "They question it. I don't answer. They try and manipulate words out of my mouth. I watch them fail, drinking up all their wine."

"Sounds like everything you've ever wanted," she mocks, crossing her arms.

I look over her, taking my sweet time. "I can think of a few more things."

She rolls her eyes. "Save it for court- when do we leave?"

"Whenever you're ready," I reply, pausing briefly. "Are you ready?"

She shrugs neutrally, but her face gives away more. "It can't be any worse than last time," she replies, casual as noon. The ghost of her experience still lingers in her eyes, the trauma she relived when Rhys and Feyre entered her mind. I know I can't forget the way she screamed as I tried to claw myself to her.