A Storm of Flames and Deceit

24. Good Deeds

Eris

Ms. Diaga nearly jumps out of her skin when Giava returns to the orphanage with Neph and I. I wonder if she remembers me. Mother used to take me here on solstice to volunteer before Lev and Darian were born. I still send money here every solstice.

Of course, I don't put my name on the envelope when I send it to her. Why in the world would she remember some scrawny red head kid who volunteered here as a boy? Back when nobody recognized me as the heir to Autumn?

"Your highness," she rushes into a bow, and I nearly laugh, forgetting myself. She doesn't need to remember that I used to volunteer here centuries ago to know who I am. She remembers that I'm the High Lord.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Diaga. I dropped all the fliers you asked me to hand out because a bee landed on my arm," Giava whines, shivering in lingering terror.

"Giava," Ms. Diaga says, smiling stiffly. "Do you have any idea who these two people are?"

Giava shrugs casually, eating the rest of the soft pretzel we gave her. "Nephele let me borrow her tiara," she replies, still chewing. "Eris is her boyfriend- I think."

Nephele snickers into my shoulder as I fight my laugh. "We actually came to watch the play," I tell Ms. Diaga. "Are tickets still on sale?"

A broken laugh falls from Ms. Diaga's lips before she clamps her hand over her mouth. "Yes, your majesty," she fumbles, fumbling in her satchel for two slips of unofficial paper, her withered hands shaking as she extends them to us. "The front row is yours."

Nephele smiles, thanking her before we track back out the door to the theatre, telling Giava to break a leg on our way out. "I've never been to a play before," Nephele discloses as we take our seats in the empty theatre.

I snort, draping my arm over her seat. "I'm sure the production of this show will exceed your wildest expectations," I tease, considering the show is being put on by a dozen children and an over-worked instructor.

"I have no doubts," she replies, her smile fading as she glances over her shoulder. I follow her gaze. Townsfolk file into the theatre hesitantly, keeping their space from the front row like Neph and I have the plague. "They're afraid of us," she says quietly, turning forward as to not be caught staring. Something in her face looked bothered by it all, the way she shifts in her seat.

"They'll come around," I promise her, kissing her brow. "Every time they see you give a little girl the tiara off your head they realize that you aren't anything like my father."

She leans her head into the crook of my shoulder, sighing. "I'm not good with people not liking me," she chews on her lip, and I chuckle.

"I've gotten pretty used to it," I contribute, and she frowns.

"You're right," she says, determination breaking in her eyes. "They are going to come around to us. I'm going to make sure of it."

Pride glitters in my eye right back as I gaze upon her. I love that look on her face, the look that promises not even the Mother herself can stop my wife. I could pity anyone who might stand in her way if I didn't want them dead for challenging her.

Before I can speak further, the lights dim, the tiny theatre  filling in to the very last seat. The seats beside us are taken warily- as if Neph and I could smell fear, but Nephele's friendly smile seems to settle them as the children walk out onto the stage.

The littlest of them wears massive, round glasses as he stands so officially. "A long time ago, in the Kingdom of Ivester," he narrates, the slight lisp in his voice making the entire audience gush. "There was a fierce, heroic Princess who governed her people in peace. That is, until a curse was projected onto the land, binding a dragon to terrorize the kingdom."