But at least neither of the Illyrians had remembered my birthday—thank the Cauldron. So with Mor asleep and Elain likely in the kitchen helping to prepare that delicious food whose aroma now filled the house, I indulged in a rare, quiet meal. Helped myself to the pastry I’d put on Rhys’s plate, along with his portion of the quiche. And another after that. Tradition indeed. With little to do beyond resting until the festivities began the hour before sundown, I settled in at the desk in our bedroom to do some paperwork. Very festive, Rhys purred down the bond. I could practically see his smirk.
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