A Storm of Flames and Deceit

36. The Price

Eris

The next day falls through us like sand, the hours drowning into the next as we read an unholy amount of reports. The only thing that makes it at all tolerable is her proximity, her legs draped over my lap, her beautiful scent reminding me that there is happiness left in this world, despite how much I loathe reading what the dukes of my court write.

Nephele scribbles her initials at the bottom of a piece of paper. "What's the date?" She asks me, yawning as I tell her.

Suddenly, her face shifts from pure boredom to mild interest. "Hmph," she says appreciatively.

Taking any excuse to look away from my papers, I latch on to that expression of intrigue. "What?"

"It's nothing," she waves me off, setting her packet in the signed pile, picking up another. "I just didn't realize what today was."

"What today was?" I echo.

"My birthday," she clarifies, a chuckle. "I believe that makes me 220 today."

I blink, praying she's joking, but she looks entirely too casual about it. Catching my gaze, she frowns, tilting her head. "What?"

What?

The fucking nerve. "Get up," I tell her bluntly, setting both of our packets aside. "Go get dressed."

"Get dressed?" She blinks at me, brow furrowed.

"You heard me," I tell her, swinging her legs off my lap. "We're going out."

She rolls her eyes, not even hinting at getting up. "Eris, my birthday isn't as special as you are making it out to be," she kisses my cheek, as if she could soothe me out of this idea. "After all, I've already had 219 of them. It's not like I've ever celebrated it before."

I frown. "You didn't celebrate it as a kid?" Sure, most fae don't celebrate birthdays after they've hit adulthood, occasionally celebrating the century mark here or there, but everyone celebrates as a kid. Even I have fond memories of my mother arranging a cake for me, letting me light the candles myself as I learned harness my power.

Her brows knit together. "You did?"

"Everyone does," I answer, sadness creasing my breath. I just hope it doesn't show on my face.

"I didn't know it was something people celebrated," Neph says honestly. "But if it gets me out of this study, let's do it."

...

"When you said we were going out," Nephele hedges from beneath our glamour as we walk the streets of the shopping district of Arbon. "I pictured more dancing, maybe some wine."

"We're getting to that part," I inform her, wrapping my arm over her shoulders. "But that won't come until the night. Until then, I'm buying you things."

"Buying me things?" She echoes, blinking up at me. "Eris, you already buy me everything I could possibly want. Why would I ask for more?"

"On birthdays, people receive gifts," I inform her. "And I happen to like buying you things very much."

She snorts as we slip into a boutique. "I've noticed. I think you bought be something from every booth we stopped at on the day of harvest festival."

I roll my eyes, holding a dress up to her. "This would look beautiful on you," I say appreciatively. I could just picture her in the backless, royal blue gown, how it might hug her every curve, how my hands might slide over her bare back.

"You think so?" She asks, almost shy.

I nod in response, draping the gown over my elbow. "What else do you see?"