A Storm of Flames and Deceit

38. Gilded Goodnight

Eris

"How could you?" Cressida berates Nephele, properly mortified that Neph didn't share her birthday with anyone until the last minute.

"How could I..." Neph echoes, furrowing her brow up at me.

"You know what you did," I tell her in agreement with her best friend, and Neph rolls her eyes.

"You all know now," she says, shrugging grandly. "Let's just move on with it."

"I didn't winnow here to move on with it," Tarquin huffs a laugh. "I winnowed here to get drunk off my ass for your special day."

"I like the sound of that," she grabs my arm. "Let's go."

"Hold on just a minute," I interject. "Lucien should be on his way here."

"Oh, yes," Tarquin pipes in, leaning quite contentedly against the brick exterior of the bar. "Let's wait for Lucien then."

Cressida rolls her eyes. "Get a grip, 'Quin," she tells him sternly. As if summoned, Lucien winnows in, Tamlin with him, Cressida eating her words.

Neph groans, not expecting Tamlin. He must've been with Lucien earlier when I wrote to him. "What is it? Have you kidnapped my grandfather now?"

Tamlin puts his hands up defensively. "I come in peace," he replies. "And Lucien told me it was your birthday."

"Lucien has a big mouth," Neph rolls her eyes, giving Tamlin a conceding nudge.

"Does he?" Tarquin mutters under his breath. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who hears him.

"I'll let that comment slide because it is your birthday," Lucien replies cordially. "I was promised we'd be bar hopping."

...

Sometimes, I feel so thankful for Cressida. Nephele had told me how she always wanted sisters growing up, and the best I could ever give was my half brother. Not that I didn't appreciate Lucien's place in her life either. I suppose it's some sort of default, I guess. That urge that constantly compels me to be sure that her life is... full. Satisfying.

Cressida and Neph are across the bar though, exchanging secrets and stories, glancing at me every few seconds before they both break into giggles. I stay by Tarquin, my interest peaking as he watches Lucien. I don't think it's anywhere close to love how he wants my brother. I think Tarquin just sees a powerful man and that attracts him. He just wants what he can't have which is probably why he wanted Feyre so badly that once, even for those fleeting few days when it should've been so clear to him that she was unavailable.

I do wonder why Lucien hasn't done anything. Tarquin, as far as men go, isn't far off his type, big and- let's face it- a bit dumb. A high lord, nonetheless. I hadn't thought he was hung up on Elain, but I wonder...

"Do you think they were ever together?" Tarquin asks me. It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about Tamlin and Lucien.

I shrug. "It wouldn't surprise me if there was a drunken evening," I reply, genuinely speculating. "It would surprise me if it happened more than once though." Tamlin, for the most part, seemed to prefer women, but centuries of eternity is enough for anyone to get curious, especially on good wine.

"Hm," he murmurs absently. "You know, I've never had to try so hard to get a lover in my life?"

I laugh under my breath. "Lucien is anything but oblivious, Tarquin. He likes games," I remind him. He has probably a century on Tarquin anyway, a century of playing games.

He smirks, draining his drink. "And maybe I like being played. Maybe, it's time I start playing games of my own," he says, striding to the floor before introducing himself to some girl, inviting her to dance. I'm familiar with the games, but I certainly don't miss them. I used to be... it doesn't matter. I've never been tempted to play games with Nephele, couldn't stand it. And now, I'm glad of the comfort I have in her, something so lasting and fulfilling.