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31. Interlude (Pt. 1)

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Eris dismounted his horse, handed it off to a stable boy, and then made quick work of his gloves. He put them inside his cobalt blue jacket as he walked up to the Forest House, his new home.

Well . . .

It'd always been his home, but now, he owned it.

A gust of crisp air blew his hair every which way, so he tied it back with a scrap of leather.

"Eris!"

The new High Lord of Autumn looked up to see his smiling mother in the doorway, adjusting her crimson silk shawl. His smokehounds raced past her to greet him, growling and biting at one another in play. He bent down to pet a few, smirking.

It'd only been seven days since Eris had reduced his father to ashes, but he'd never felt better.

"Mother," he said, bending over to kiss her cheek. "Good morning." He held the door open for her and then whistled once for his hounds. They ran inside, sliding across the red marble floor.

"How was your ride?" his mother asked, clasping her hands.

Eris closed the door. "It was good," he said, tucking loose strands of his hair back. "A good stress reliever."

His mother wrapped an arm around his as they crossed the foyer. "You have nothing to worry about. The Court will warm up to you. I just know it."

Eris didn't have the heart to tell her that there'd already been three assassination attempts, so he switched the subject. "Have you eaten yet?"

"A little," she said, guiding him to the dining room, "but you haven't, so I asked the House to make you your favorites." She grinned, practically glowing, as she prattled on about the drinks and dishes she'd asked for.

Eris's chest ached fiercely. He hadn't seen his mother smile this much since Lucien.

As they sat down to eat with a lovely view of the waterfall, Eris dug into his food.

His mother leaned forward with a mischievous smile. "So . . ."

Eris raised a brow. "Yes . . ?"

"When do I get to meet (Y/n)?"

"I'm sorry—" Eris cleared his throat so he wouldn't choke. "What?"

"Oh, come on." His mother gave him a knowing look. "I know she's busy with Illyria right now, but . . . Eventually, I'd like to meet the female you gave the gilded breastplate to."

Eris cooled his expression so his mother wouldn't worry. "Of course," he said gently. "I'll send a letter as soon as possible."

If only his mother knew where (Y/n) actually was . . .

"I've never been to Illyria," his mother said mostly to herself. "I wonder what it's like. Oh, and we need to look into honing your godsfire . . . After breakfast, I'll ask your advisors . . ."

Eris zoned out. He glanced down at his open palms and then clenched them.

It'd only been seven days since he'd last seen (Y/n), but he'd never missed her more.

And it terrified him.

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