Eris
Nephele wears a pinkish purple gown, the same color as dawn. That's when we arrive at the court, winnowing in precisely at dawn which is by far the most stunning time of day to be here. The clouds were paint strokes of orange and pink and purple and blue. Even I can recognize it's beauty.
I can't imagine what it's like to see it for the first time. Neph gasps softly as we winnow onto the platform above the palace from the snowy hell of winter. It was like we were floating in the clouds. Like if you stepped off the side, you could walk across the sky.
She turns to me, her smile bright as the blooming day. "I think this court is my favorite so far," she tells me quietly, secretively.
"It's certainly warmer than Winter," I mumble, keeping her on my arm as Thesan's lover, Ren, approaches, keeping his angelic wings rolled back with his shoulders, on the defensive. I suppose he remembers me from the High Lords meeting. I wasn't very friendly that night.
How could I be? My father was right there. If I would've stood against him, I would've been banished from the meeting altogether. I'm lucky I was even allowed to go.
So maybe I said a few things to goad the night court into retaliation. Maybe I played with the idea of letting that Shadowsinger Neanderthal hit me until I had an excuse not to have to spew my father's garbage the rest of the meeting. And despite feeling like shit afterwards, my father was proud of me. I accomplished the goal.
Thesan walks a few feet behind his lover, a dreaming look on his face, a protective look on Ren's. The Seraphim's palm is curled around his sword, but his disposition is calm and objective. It doesn't offend me too much. What I don't like, however, is how Ren looks at Nephele, her power felt before her, making everyone's hair stand on end. In equal parts, it makes me proud. I like that they fear her. They should fear her.
"Eris," Thesan smiles, friendly. Ren looks less pleased to see me. "Welcome back to dawn."
I dip my head. "Thank you," I reply with a curt and casual nod, offering Nephele forward. Dawn custom of greeting is for the host to kiss the knuckles of any lady entering for the first time. It's not something everyone knows, but I like to brush up on customs before I come to a court. It makes me look educated and considerate, the latter of which I often have trouble pulling off. "This is my fiancé, Nephele."
She gives him a charming smile, her face golden in the rising morning light as she curtsies, letting him take her hands and press a kiss to her fingers. "It is a delight to meet you, Lady Nephele."
"And you, Lord Thesan," she smiles bashfully, fluttering her lashes at the horizon. "I was just telling my love how your court might be the most beautiful we've seen yet."
Thesan smiles at the flattery, holding his heart warmly. "Why thank you," he replies.
She smirks, dropping her voice. "Just don't tell any of the other courts that," she whispers. He chuckles in good nature, taking her by the arm, leading her to the stair case that curls around the tower and down into the true palace.
"My lips are sealed, Lady Nephele," he tells her.
Ren and I exchange a look before hastily following after them. "Please," I hear Neph reply, descending the stairs in front of us. "Just Nephele is alright."
I bite back my grin.
She really is working her magic yet again.
...
For the rest of the afternoon, Nephele, Thesan, Ren, and I sit, drinking green tea near the reflection pool, Nephele inquiring the High Lord over various questions about his land. I'm not sure if she's trying to flatter him or if she's genuinely curious, but it seems to work. Already Thesan extended an invitation for the four of us fly kites, a strange dawn contraption, tomorrow. This certainly wasn't an invitation Thesan would normally extend, much less to someone like me, I'm sure.
It truly is ridiculous how likable Neph is. All along this trip, she hasn't so much as butted heads with anyone. She cleaned up my reputation like rainwater cleans off a dirty window. But she hadn't made me look weak. It's hard for any high lord to look at me while I have Neph and think she makes me weaker. She was power. She was electricity and surge. She was something to be acknowledged, never to be shoved away to rot in a cellar.
I wonder how it'll translate to Night Court in just a few days. They hate me most there- ironic considering they might be my closest ally. It will be a true test of her talent if she can manage to get the Night Court to find her compelling.
Now we sit alone in the living space connected to our separate rooms, discussing our plan for the Court of Nightmares. We go there the day after tomorrow before heading to Day, our last stop.
"So when I arrive," she reasons out, trying to make sure she understands what I'm saying. "They'll be more more inclined to think that I'm your prisoner rather than your partner?"
I nod in confirmation. "They'll have a hard time believing that you chose me."
She frowns. "And should I let them believe that? Should I let them think that? So they feel compelled to look into my mind," she paces the floor, absolutely unable to sit still. "To sort out for themselves how we truly came to be engaged?"
I consider. "It can't be guaranteed," I say. "They certainly will buy it, but I'm not sure if they'll even feel the need to look into your mind. They might just figure they don't need a burden of proof."
She sighs, plopping down on the couch beside me, tipping her head against the cushion, tucking her knee to her chest. I notice a bruise on her skin, presumably from ice skating. An idea sparks in my head, and she glances at me, furrowing my brow.
"What?"
"What if you begged Rhys or Feyre to look into my mind?" I ask her, gnawing on my lip. A plan is coming together. "They won't do it unless they feel as though they absolutely have to, that hero complex they have. They won't look into even my head unless they can morally justify it as necessary."
She blinks, her lips parting. I can tell she's picking up on it. "And if I approach Rhys and Feyre," she says slowly. "With bruises on my skin and tears in my eyes, begging them to look into your mind so that she can figure out a way to save me..."
"Then, they'll see our true intentions," I say, smiling wickedly.
But she frowns again. "I thought the wards prevented us from inviting them into our minds?" Nephele wonders. "Would I not be breaking the wards if I invited Rhys and Feyre into your mind?"
"Not necessarily," I reply. "You could invite her into my mind under the lie of looking for something else. You can't be responsible for the possibility that I show them the truth once she's inside. The wards are individual to each of us. I can't help that you told them to look into my mind. You can't help that I was thinking about how we met."
She smiles sinisterly, draping her legs over my lap. "I think we might pull this off," she says, eager as the morning sun.
"Yeah?" I can't help but smile back, resting my arm on her thighs, absentmindedly slipping the chiffon back and forth between my fingers.
She nods, her grey eyes alight, the air in the room growing a smug sort of electric.