VIII. Bon Voyage

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Eris

I stopped by her room early to undo whatever horrible garment I'm sure her mother put her in. She dressed atrociously, but something tells me it wasn't quite her doing. I knock on the door once before coming in where she stares in the mirror. She almost looks confused at what she sees.
She startles, clutching the dresser for support. "I don't appreciate you sneaking up on me," she scowls.
I roll my eyes. "I knocked."
"You knocked once."
I shrug. "How's your head?"
"Getting worse now that you're here, thanks," she smiles sweetly at me. Not a morning person, I see.
"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart- I also brought you a dress," I say, throwing her the garment. She eyes me with suspicion.
"Why?"
I shrug again. "Your mother dresses you like an elderly woman."
She holds up the garment, inspecting it. "Fine," she grumbles, beginning to strip off her current dress. I quickly turn away, hoping she doesn't catch the pink on my cheeks at her boldness. She huffs a snort, taunting laugh. "What's the matter, hot stuff? Saving yourself until marriage?"
"How did you know?" I say dryly, playing with my cuff link. Fuck, I'm attracted to her. I hardly know her, but my cock doesn't quite care. It's telling me I should just go on and have her, even if I burn through her like parchment.
"I'm just saying- one of these days you're going to want an heir, and what then? Will you turn your face from me then? Too conserved to even look me in the eyes when we conceive?" She chatters on, the sounds of her clothing rustling.
"I don't quite want children- not for a good while yet," I say boredly.
"Glad we agree," she huffs, stepping in front of me. "Zip me up?"
I swallow, nodding. Curling the tiny metal zipper in my fingers, I slide it up her slim, smooth spine, monitoring the shiver she has when my skin touches hers. I'm reminded how few people have ever had the fortune of touching her skin. What granted me such rare luck? I start on the buttons that fasten over the zipper, concentrating on anything but her beautiful backside in the dress I picked out.
When I finished, my fingers are positively burning from restraint as she steps away to examine herself in the mirror. The dress was a silvery charcoal color and it draped off her chest like water, hugging her slim waist. The skirt was a straight flair, but it hugged her from behind beautifully. There was a slit up her long leg, revealing her up to her upper thigh, and her sleeves were better suited for warmer weather, sheer and hanging off her shoulders.
She clicks her tongue in approval, shamelessly checking out her backside in the mirror. "I can live with this," she grins, sweeping her braids back into a low tail, a few stray pieces hung out to frame her face. "I'll take this over my mother's style any day."
"Good," I say, taking her arm. "Then, we'll be off."
She skips along beside me, eager for adventure as I open the door before we both startle to a stop.
"Good," mother says from the other side, catching us both by surprise. "I was afraid I had missed you. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye."
I frown. "I already said goodbye to you last night-"
She holds up a silencing hand, and my voice ceases. "I wasn't talking to you."
Nephele laughs, patting my chest in condescension, reaching to hug my mother. I wish my heart didn't squeeze to see it- what a silly thing. "We'll be home before you know it," Nephele promises my mother, and I know why she says it. I know she sees how we're abandoning her in a palace of monsters.
But I can hardly do her any good here anyway. I protect her as much as I can from father, but in the end, the best I can do for her is stay in his favor. The best I can do is plot and scheme until I find a path to being High Lord myself, until I find a path to killing him.
Mother waves off Nephele. "Oh, don't worry about me," she grins, pulling back to look my fiancé in the eyes. "I want you to have the best trip, dear."
"I'm quite excited," Nephele admits, and the two women act as though I'm not even there. As though we don't have somewhere to be. "I've only been two places in my life: where I grew up and here."
Mother gapes a bit. "Then, I cannot think of a better way for you to spend the two weeks before your wedding," she squeezes Nephele's hands.
"Given that we aren't late," I mutter under my breath.
Nephele rolls her eyes. "The trip hasn't even begun, and he's already cranky," she whispers to my mother.
"He's always cranky," she replies.
"Standing right here."
Nephele laughs, taking my arm again. "I'll see you soon, Delia," she says, smiling bitterly. Fantastic. Now she's just as attached to my mother as my mother is her.
"I'll see you too," she calls as I begin to pull Nephele away. "And Eris Vansera, you better make sure she has a nice trip!"
Nephele slides closer to me in taunt, a smirk on her lips. "Yeah, hot stuff, you better make sure I have a nice trip," she teases, fluttering her long lashes up at me.
I roll my eyes. "I should divorce you," I joke, but she doesn't laugh. No, she goes quite silent as we walk to the rooftop winnowing point.
I glance at her, and she gnaws on her lip, distressed, refusing to meet my eyes. "Nephele, I was joking," I chuckle. I can't see why she looks so terrified.
She looks back up at me, her gray eyes swimming with terror before she averts her gaze. "I know," she smiles weakly.
"Nephele, what's wrong?" She isn't attached to me. I can tell that much. We had only just met. If anything, I wonder why she wouldn't be eager that I proposed such a split- not that I contractually have the power to refute her. I'm not sure I would anyway.
I don't love her- obviously, but I can't imagine I'd have better luck with any other arrangement. Nephele can play political chess. She's powerful, and she has a keen mind. Sure, she's pretty, but that's not what makes me feel like she's a good fit for my court.
"I know you were joking," she laughs in compensation. "It's just-" she hesitates, chewing on her lip. "It's just I know what happens if you decide you don't want me," she swallows, looking down. "I know where I'll be sent." I shiver. How could I be so insensitive? I mean, I'm generally insensitive, but usually, I know when I'm doing it.
"No one is getting sent back anywhere," I try to keep my tone easy, but my fingers begin to burn with anger. "You need me and I need you, whether either of us like it or not."
She chuckles, genuinely. "Even if I mock you?"
I smile, looking away. "I'll try not to wake you at night when I cry myself to sleep."
She giggles into her hand, her grey eyes turned bright and smiling again.

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