Prythian seems to celebrate an endless parade of holidays.
“It’s just because we didn’t have any before, Nesta,” Elain says brightly. “It only feels like a lot.” Elain loves the fae holidays, though, loves whatever stupid decorations there are to put up for each one, loves baking and shopping for thoughtful presents (and loves inviting Lucien to all their celebrations). Mor loves dressing up, and dressing everyone else up, Feyre and Rhysand love making out after they’ve exchanged gifts, Azriel seems to actually appreciate whatever sort of spiritual value these occasions hold, and Cassian likes excuses to drink; they all seem to love holidays.
Except for Nesta, who just… tolerates them.
With one Cassian-shaped exception, she likes the inner circle very much, and it’s never a bad thing to spend an evening with them. But ridiculous gifts, traditions she doesn’t care to understand, arcanely metaphoric candles or dances or bonfires or pumpkins or whatever it is that day are all starting to grate on her, and she’s considering skipping this particular holiday altogether. Saturnalia, it’s called. A celebration of the new year. Ridiculous, especially considering they celebrated the Solstice (and Feyre’s birthday) not three weeks ago, and Yule just over a week ago, and also Azriel celebrates an entirely different holiday she’s forgotten the name of that lasts a whole week that only just ended which they’ve also been half-celebrating… it’s just a lot.