A Storm of Flames and Deceit

22. Lose This Crowd

Eris

I resist the urge to rub my bleary eyes as we march the next morning. I know I hadn't slept well, the dreams waking me in a cold sweat, but I only have a vague memory of Nephele awaking next to me, murmuring reassurances until I slipped back into sleep.

But if she recalls giving me comfort from my nightmares, she doesn't say anything, her face not even suggesting exhaustion as she chats merrily to the soldiers. They all look at her with so much admiration that I have to restrain my jealousy. I understand why they love her, but perhaps it's just the mating bond that makes me so damn... possessive.

Still, it seems to be a good thing. Men would gladly bow to a High Lady like her, go to war for her. Die for her. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that ever again. "She has stolen your heart, hasn't she?" A voice interrupts. Funny. I thought Nesta was decidedly not talking to me. I turn to the woman of death, lowering my gaze at her indifferently.

"I didn't know you believed I had a heart to steal," I reply, raising a brow. I'd much rather argue with Nesta than have whatever conversation this is- even if Cassian comes swooping down to kick my ass for any unkind words I use with his wife.

"I didn't," she replies, shrugging neutrally. "You know that if you break her heart, there will be hell to pay, don't you? Yours isn't the only heart she has claimed. All of Prynthian- and I might think your very court- would rain hell upon you if-"

"She herself would rain hell upon me if I hurt her," I interrupt, rolling my eyes. "You needn't warn me over that which I already know."

"If I were warning you, that might imply that I care what happened to you. No, this was not a warning," she says, shrugging a bit as a venomous smile falls to her lips. "More of an observation." She trots off gleefully, offering not a word further as she approaches where Neph introduces herself to Varian who had finally crawled up from the exceedingly introverted Summer Court Legion that Tarquin loaned us.

I blink, training my eyes forward, even as I sense Hopkins striding up beside me. "I like seeing the men like this," he comments, glancing over his shoulder fondly. "Hopeful."

"I'm sure they'll all be glad of the festivities of the week to come then," I reply, looking back at our men. Tonight marks the beginning of harvest, so conveniently timed with our return. For the rest of the weekend, the Capitol will be buzzing with revelry. Parades. Feasts. Bonfires. All things merry.

I had explained the holiday to Neph before we left, explained the significance of harvest to the Autumn Court, and she was just about teeming with excitement. And when I offered to winnow us home from the palace each night, she had denied the mention, claiming that she didn't want to live in fear, much less rule in it. She didn't want her father to have that sort of control over her life.

"Yes, I only worry what will happen when we unleash some of these soldiers on the town," Hopkins chuckles. "Some haven't seen the inside of a pub in over ten years. I worry I need to ensure they've drank their contraceptive brews recently."

"I reckon that conversation might be due then," I say as we turn the corner of the clearing, the full view of Arbon coming into sight from our vantage atop the hill. Hopkins falls silent in time for me to hear men outright cheering, some crying out in excitement to see our capitol again.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watch men embrace, some shaking their heads in disbelief that they finally stand on Arbon soil. I smile helplessly, calling to the crowd. "Welcome home."

...

With Nephele's arm in mine, we lead our men into the ground gates of the palace, inviting them into our home. The Legion of Illyrians had already been winnowed back to Windhaven by Nephele herself while I took the Summer Court Legion back. Of course, both were given the chance to stay for the revelry, but Nesta insisted that we wouldn't want any gloomy or grabby Illyrians encroaching on what was so sacred to Autumn. Varian had only shrugged, introverted and deigning to go home for the night.

Appreciating the help regardless, I realize it is better this way. We have already established that we are not without connections outside our own court. It's time we start focusing on our people.

The ballroom is overrun by common folk and soldiers- which is surely causing my father to turn in his grave. Unceremonious music flows from the fiddle, the room choreographed into something sloppy and reckless by the command of the tune. Laughter sings its harmony, everyone twirling and swapping partners almost as soon as they claim them.

Nephele is in the middle of it all, swinging from a soldier into the arms of an elderly woman, giving her a jolly and breathless smile as they continue to dance. Her hair has fallen from her updo, hanging clumsily down her back as she twirls. Her dress was a deep purple color with cap sleeves of chiffon and a straight skirt, tasteful cutouts along her waist and spine.

She was by no means a good dancer. Her technique was flawed and her feet were chronically clumsy, but damn, she is captivating. I couldn't for a second think I'm the only one who notices her radiance. The entire room moves around her, as if she were the center of the universe. I certainly haven't found any evidence to suggest that she's not.

I draw to her as her gaze catches mine, something in her eyes so magnetic that I hardly register myself weaving towards the dance to her where she spins alone in the center, her eyes locked on mine as she turns and turns. I catch her waist, threading my fingers through hers as I pick up the rhythm from the band, having no intention of switching her away for the rest of the night.

She smiles, the world seeming to slow as she looks up at me, the room twinkling in golds around us. "There's my favorite dance partner," she teases, slipping a half step closer. "I had been waiting for you to sweep me off my feet."

"Good," I reply, rolling my eyes. "I'm the best you'll ever have."

She raises a devious brow. "Yeah?"

And just like that, we're talking about a different sort of dance. Still, I don't shrink from her challenge. "Yeah," I respond assuredly, twirling her away from me before pulling her back flush to my chest.

She smiles up at me, her arm snaking up to hold the side of my face as she slips onto her toes, her lips on my ear. "I love it when you make people look at us," she whispers quietly, and I blink, looking around.

Our people continue to dance around us, throwing casual looks our way, looking away abruptly when they accidentally meet my gaze. They don't look at us in disgust or surprise, trying to figure out why someone as kind and good as Neph ended up with someone like me. No, they look at us like their very own fairytale, longing with blushes on their skin as they drag their eyes off us.

"I like showing everyone what's mine when I can," I whisper back, my hands sliding over the front side of her dress as we sway. She tenses beneath me, her thighs pinching together only the slightest bit as I spread my fingers over her abdomen.

"Aww," she pouts up at me tauntingly. "Was it hard for you to watch me dance with those soldiers, Baby?"

"Not really," I reply casually, my hips snug against her backside. I'm sure she can feel how much of my nonchalance is faked. Still, I drop my mouth to her ear, drop my tone to a whisper. "Because no one is dumb enough to try and steal my favorite dance partner from me."

"I thought my dancing was atrocious," she raises a brow at me, turning so that are chests are pressed against each other.

"It is," I reply, kissing her brow. "But you're cute, so you can get away with it."

"You're pretty cute too," she replies, a venomous grin as she slips onto the tip of her toes, scrunching her nose in my face. "You know... when you stop talking and just fucking dance." I roll my eyes, unable to fight the urge to kiss her, even with everyone around. Unable to tear my lips away until the song finished and it's time to start the next dance.