A Storm of Flames and Deceit

53. Lightning Bugs

Eris

I didn't know what became of Nephele. I just know when the wine kicked in, her, Vassa, and Cressida had dipped out the door into the gardens, Tamlin calling at them not to pick his good roses. I told him that was exactly what they were going to do purely because he told them not to.

"Why do you look so exhausted?" I ask Lucien. "You didn't do the spell."

He rolls his eyes. "So I can't be tired?"

"I didn't say that," I nudge him. "You've been busy, it seems. Bouncing between Day, Night, Creagach, Autumn, Spring, the Continent."

He shrugs. "I like to stay busy," he says simply, taking a sip of his wine. I notice the tension in his jaw.

"I do too," I agree. "I did, that is. Back when I wasn't sure what to make of my feelings with Neph. When I fucked everything up."

He rolls his eyes. "If you're referring to Elain, I didn't fuck anything up," he says, defensive. "I stayed away. I gave her space. I did everything you're supposed to do for a mate. I did the opposite of fucking everything up."

"You did," I agree plainly. "But you don't have to be the one who fucked up to feel the hurt."

He's quiet, taking another sip, eyes across the parlor at where Tamlin, Tarquin, and Jurian sit, laughing easily over some story Tarquin tells, if only to avoid my gaze. They all looked easy indeed. But Lucien was burdened, so much so that it made me look light.

"How have you been?" I ask him softly.

He snorts, catching my eye. "Are we gonna talk about our feelings, Brother?"

I laugh too because, frankly, it is a bit funny to consider. "I'm not amazing with feelings- you'd have to talk to Neph about those," I admit. "But if like to think I'm alright at listening, even better at telling it like it is."

He shuts his eyes, his hand flexing. "I'm fine," he sighs. "My life has been a series of determining at which points exactly I went wrong. With Beron. With Jessminda. With Feyre and Tamlin. With anything and everything." I understood that well enough. The way we were raised... if you weren't seven steps ahead, you were twelve steps behind. There were no mistakes, only miscalculations.

"I guess it's just a bit frustrating when something feels so without reason," he admits. "I have this amazing, cauldron- blessed thing happen to me, and I'm so careful not to break it. Not to fuck it up. But in the end, it didn't matter."

And that's the thing about it. Lucien did everything perfect. He didn't push too hard. He played from a distance.

"I wish I could even blame her," he continues. "Maybe then, it might be easier to rationalize what had happened. But it's not her fault that she was thrown into this world. I don't blame her for the bond not meaning anything to her. Why would it? To her, it's just something people talk about so vaguely. It wasn't forged in love, not for us. She had every right to reject it."

Gods, he's better than me.

If Neph had rejected our bond... of course I'd respect her decision, but I don't think I could speak of it so maturely. I'd be broken in every way. I'd be less. I'd be over.

"You're right- you can't blame her," I agree. "But you also can't keep blaming yourself. You can't keep punishing yourself, overworking yourself, ignoring the wound."

He stares at me, blinking a bit. "It's not an easy thing- to do what you did. To walk away," I remind him. "And wherever that strength takes you... whether it be to politics or friendship or even love... what you will have then will be that much stronger because you had the courage to walk away."