A Storm of Flames and Deceit

XXXXI. Of Course, It Was an Act

Eris
I'm not sure when I blacked out, but if I were a betting man, I might put my money on the second she stepped onto that isle. Her eyes met mine, and I said a brief prayer of unquantifiable gratitude to the mother above that Nephele was standing before me in all white.
Looking at her is a religious experience- the sort that makes your knees buckle and your faith shake. Why is she walking to me? I should be crawling to her.
Her eyes stay on mine for a fluttering and intense bit before her father mutters something, and she looks around. Then, those doe eyes of hers had widened in surprise to see what I had arranged.
Which is why she berates me now, bringing me out of my trance. "Why didn't you tell me?" She whacks my arm, whispering under her breath as we steal a moment of peace in the waiting room while guests are escorted into the reception area. I shrug, smirking with myself.
"Didn't want to get your hopes up," I reply neutrally. "I thought better to surprise you with good than disappoint you with bad."
She bristles, shaking her head, but I can tell she's more impressed than angry. "I just don't understand how you did it," she says in disbelief. "How did you manage Tamlin?"
I laugh quietly, falling back into my chair. "It was no easy feat," I assure her, taking a sip of my wine. "I met with Rhys and Feyre earlier today, explaining how I needed as many high lords as possible to gain the favor of the dukes and lords of land. You had all but pulled everyone towards attendance, but Helion and Tamlin were still always going to be maybes. In recognition, Rhysand went to go convince Helion, and Feyre went with Lucien to convince Tamlin." I managed to garner a few maybe's into yes's by writing persuasively worded letters, but the rest I truly couldn't have done with her.
Neph blinks in even broader surprise. "She went to him?" She asks, utterly baffled. "She went to on our behalf?"
"Don't be too flattered," I warn her. "It was rather in the interest of dethroning my father and possibly in squashing a running poison between them before it consumed Spring."
"Does he know?" She asks quietly, sitting down beside me, her beautiful gown fluffing at the skirts. "Does he know what truly happened to me?"
Hesitantly, I shake my head. "I'm unsure," I admit. "I told Feyre and Rhysand to use whatever means necessary to convince them, even if it meant the truth. I'm not sure what lengths they went to, and I haven't had time to properly interrogate them." It makes me a bit uncomfortable to relinquish so much control, but I didn't have much choice. There wasn't anytime for me to make arrangements myself, and the cost cannot outweigh the reward.
Besides, loathe them as I do, I must admit that Rhys and Feyre are crafty. They know how to manipulate things for their benefit, and right now, our objectives are aligned.
She laughs quietly, tipping her head back against the cushions like she were exhausted before the night had even begun. "You did all this while I was getting my hair and makeup done?"
"In your defense," I smile over at her, forgetting myself. "You do look quite beautiful."
Her gaze abruptly cuts to me, color warming her dark skin as she swallows, looking away. It was so rare that I could shake her good humor, and the urge to take another crack at it burns in my bones.
"My father mistrusts you," she changes the subject. "Of course, he mistrusts everyone, but he senses that you're more than just your father's bitch. And after he saw your international influence tonight, he's even more skeptical."
"Let him be wary- it won't be enough," I tell her.
She shuts her eyes, nodding, looking tired already. I wish I could tell her to go rest. That I can cover the reception alone while she rests because I know her body is still in reset.
I've read almost every book in our massive library twice, including a massive set of medical journals. I learned in there that women operate on a different cycle than men that isn't so much daily but in cycle with their mensuration. Men thrive in a world that wakes in the morning and rests at night for an extended period of time, but women are different. They function better in intervals of rest, staggering activity.
I can't help but wonder how much worse it is for Neph considering what was done to her.
"It's time to go to the reception, isn't that?" She mumbles, her eyes still shut.
"It might be," I say evasively, tucking a curl behind her ear gently before I can stop myself. Her hair is as beautiful as it had been in twists, but like this, it looked less symmetrical, more organic and free like her, unbound by pattern.
She groans unceremoniously, rolling to her feet. "Let's go make allies then," she holds out her delicate fingers for me, and I take them, letting her drag me to the reception room.
We're announced to the room as Prince Eris Vansera and Princess Nephele Speirling Vansera, and I don't think I've ever liked my last name more than how it sounds on her. She plays the part of the blushing bride excellently, keeping me tucked closely beside her as I steer us towards all the nobles she has yet to meet.
"This is Lord Hyron," I inform Neph as we approach possibly our fifth noble of Autumn. They're our priority tonight because it is them I need to win over before I snatch father's crown. "And this is his wife, Lady Camilla, as well as their daughter, Octavia."
Hyron and his family curtsy, but his young daughter stares up at Nephele, her face in shock. She can't be any older than six. "You're a princess, aren't you?" She asks Neph before a pout comes to her lips. "It's no fair. I wanted to marry Prince Eris!"
Her mother gasps, mortified. "Octavia," she snaps, smiling apologetically at Nephele who doesn't look even the least bit offended, rather amused.
"I apologize. She has had a bit of a crush on his majesty," Hyron says frantically.
Nephele laughs beautifully, waving Camila and Hyron off. "It's quite alright," she says, squatting down to talk to the little girl at eye level. "He is quite handsome, isn't he?"
Octavia nods stubbornly, and I laugh under my breath, watching the smile dance across my wife's face. Damn it feels good to call her my wife.
"I know it's hard to think of now, but one day when you're big and grown," she says, twirling a piece of Octavia's blonde hair. "You're going to have Princes and Princesses lined down the block, vying for your hand."
Octavia blinks, meeting Neph's gaze. "I will?"
Neph nods assuringly. "So long as you have a good heart, you will attract good- I promise," she smiles, squeezing the young girl's tiny fingers. "And if you eat your vegetables and go to sleep early," she hastily adds, sending a discreet wink to Octavia's parents who laugh, smiling adoringly after Neph as she talks to their daughter.
"You're a very pretty princess," Octavia admits quietly. "I guess you can have Prince Eris."
Neph snorts, tilting her head as the girl's parents shake their heads in good humor. "That's awfully generous of you, Octavia," Neph smiles, righting the little girl's hair before she stands back up, turning to the parents. "It was such a delight to meet you both. Thank you for coming out tonight."
"It was nothing," Camila smiles bashfully.
"Truly," Hyron agrees. "Actually, the Lords and I were all so curious to meet the Crownprincess ever since we learned the news. If I'm being transparent, I didn't expect you to be so... humble... kind."
"Certainly much kinder than me," I add, kissing her cheek. Nephele laughs, taking my hand as I slip it over her shoulders.
"And how am I meant to remain humble if you all insist on inflating my ego?" She scoffs, and Camilla laughs.
"Tell me about it," a sensual yet familiar voice interrupts. Helion. "I could see her head inflating from across the room." His easy smile isn't even close to meeting his eyes. Neph must sense this because she smiles amusedly, holding my a bit tighter.
"I suppose we're evenly matched now," she turns to the Lord and Lady who are in awe to even be in the presence of another High Lord while Octavia looks grandly unimpressed. "Will you excuse us?"
"Of course, your majesty," Hyron and Camilla rush bows before casually fleeing. Neph shivers.
"That whole Your Majesty thing is definitely going to go to my head," she mumbles.
"We need to talk," Helion says, suddenly serious, though trying to remain casual. I assume this is about whatever Rhysand said to him.
"Can it wait?" I whisper, Neph and I closing the gap between him the slightest bit for discretion, glancing over his shoulder. "This isn't a good place to talk of such things that you are not allowed to know of."
"Like my son?"
I double take, my breath choking out of me. Neph's grip tightens, her default smile stiff as she tries to maintain appearances. "How did you know?"
"Rhysand told me," he answers.
"How did he even know?" Nephele blinks up at me, lost. "Even when he went into my head, he wouldn't have learned what I had guessed because I hadn't even been thinking of it."
"That is... unless he figured it out," I say, turning to Helion.
"Actually Feyre did," he says, nostrils flaring. "And no one thought to tell me until this morning. So we're going to talk about it now." As long as I've known Helion, I've known him to be a generally easygoing guy, but I suppose he has reached his limit, finding out he has a grown son with the woman he loves. I can empathize, but I also don't have time nor the agency. Not tonight.
"Not here," I whisper, looking over my shoulder. "Do you know what they'll do to all of us if they hear? If we make a scene?"
"I don't care."
"I think you'll care a little bit when my father brings war to your lands for sleeping with my mother," I whisper harshly, losing my temper a bit, pushing Neph behind me a bit. "I think you'll care when my mother is hung for loving you." My anger boils overs. How could he be so selfish to endanger her? Maybe he stopped caring for her. Maybe he never cared.
"Eris..." Neph says gently, laying a delicate hand on my shoulders, rubbing the protective temper from my skin. "People are staring."
I blink away from Helion who is also looking quite murderous, and indeed, we have garnered a few looks. I swallow, fixing my face into a political smile as I look back at Helion. "Go home," I whisper quietly. "We will talk about this tomorrow because believe me, I want my mother and my brother as far away from this garbage fire as possible when it explodes, but there is nothing either of us can do about it tonight. You need to go home before you do something you regret."
A muscle ticks in Helion's jaw, but he nods, giving me a smiling pat on the shoulder goodbye as he leans in to whisper venomously. "Day Court tomorrow. Noon."
With no other word, he's gone, casually weaving through the crowd towards the winnowing point. I only catch my mother staring at him longingly for a brief second before I have to turn away.
"You need to dance," Neph smiles at me cautiously, tugging my hand. "Come on, they're about to start our first dance anyway."
I nod, letting her pull me to the floor as it is cleared for us, the music beginning. She sets her hand in mine, wrapping the other around my collar while mine settles on her waist. "Don't burn a hole through my chest," she teases, squeezing my scalding hand that I don't know how she stands to hold.
"Sorry, am I hurting-"
"Stop bitching and just dance, Hot Stuff," she interrupts, rolling her eyes. "Forget about it all for a second and let loose."
I nod slowly, pulling her closer to numb my pounding head. I push all my questions about why Rhysand felt compelled to tell Helion such a thing and what the hell I'm going to do about it.  Yes, it was just to easy to get lost in her eyes instead.
As the violin swells and the harp tickles the air, I can't hear a thing over the warmth in my chest as she smiles up at me. She breaks choreography suddenly, slipping her other hand onto my chest, mine falling to her waist in blind confusion. I lose all my senses when she slips onto her toes and kisses me.
It's sloppy. Both of us are smiling too hard and our teeth clank together. But hell, it's paradise. In my heart, I can't believe it. I can't believe that she pulled forward and kissed me when she didn't have to. It couldn't mean...
I won't let myself consider that means anything to her. I won't let myself think that this is anything more than an act. I won't let myself hope.
But when she pulls away and gives me that perfect smile, damnit I do hope. I hope with all my heart that beats for her. I hope with every pulse of my being.
Then, her eyes flick to the side of the dance floor where the people stand and stare and clap like they are witnessing a true fairytale before their eyes, and her smiles grows into a giggle. That's when I realize, I'm a fucking idiot.
Of course, it was an act.