13. Thirteen
Thirteen
In the morning, Callan slipped away to the training field after a simple breakfast eaten in their chamber.
The solace they had found in one another the night before was fleeting.
Nova had barely slept, only dozing off as the sun crested the horizon.
Callan managed to sleep but climbed out of bed with the sun, leaning against the window frame, a blanket draped loosely about his broad shoulders.
Normally, Nova would have joined him for training, but she’d promised to prepare for the Council meeting with her uncle.
She arrived at Nox’s chamber clad in her robe, her crimson gown draped over one arm and her leather bag slung over her shoulder.
Nox greeted her at the door and welcomed her inside, where Lucan lounged on the sofa in breeches and an untucked shirt, one bare foot resting casually on the tabletop.
He raised a delicate porcelain teacup to her, his pinky finger lifted in mock propriety, coaxing a welcome laugh from the tightness in her chest.
Two hours later, the three of them emerged combed, painted, and dressed in their finest clothes.
Nox looked rather severe in a sleek black suit adorned with shiny buttons and a black cape with the Silvergardian crest embroidered in silver thread across his back.
His platinum hair was half up, the loose ends brushing his shoulders.
Lucan was covered from toes to chin in black leather, his chest plate stamped with the Silvergardian crescent moon and six-pointed star over his heart.
His dark hair had been tamed and swept back.
All three wore charcoal-colored powder dusted over their foreheads and around their eyes, which Nox explained was a traditional symbol of the Lunar Court, representing its fine black sand.
A short while later, Nox and Lucan stood close together, speaking in hushed tones in the vestibule where the three of them waited to be announced at the Council meeting.
Standing at the large window overlooking the courtyard, Nova caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass.
The deep red of her dress threw her fair skin and dark hair into stark contrast. She wore a silver circlet, a single moonstone dangling in the center of her forehead.
Taking note of the crease between her brows, she exhaled sharply, willing her expression into one of calm detachment.
Nox and Lucan appeared in the reflection over her shoulders, joining her at the window.
The gate at the far end of the courtyard rumbled open, and two horses with shiny, honey-colored coats entered.
The riders, one male and one female, eyed their surroundings as their mounts carried them to the entryway directly below where Nova stood.
Judging from their flowing robes and ostentatious gold jewelry, Nova surmised the pair must hail from the Solar Court.
“Siris and Sienna,” Nox said, watching them as they dismounted and disappeared from view through the entrance leading to the Great Hall.
The muffled voice of the court herald floated up the staircase announcing the Noble Lord and Lady of Sonnend.
Movement drew Nova’s eye back out the window, where two shadows circled on the ground below.
The shadows grew larger and larger until two enormous falcons came into view, landing side by side on the gray stone.
In a flash of mottled feathers, the great birds shifted, leaving a male and a female standing in their place.
They looked nearly identical with the exception of the faint beard dusting the male’s chin.
They both wore their long hair braided in tight plaits, his, light brown, and hers, strawberry blond.
The female carried a quiver of arrows across her back and a wooden bow in her hand, while the male wore twin axes sheathed at his hips. The two appeared to be arguing.
“Lord Arthur and his twin sister, Riven,” Nox explained. “As the story goes, he was born one minute before her, and, thus, inherited the throne. Though most say she’s the one with a head for leadership.”
Lord Arthur hastened toward the entrance, several steps ahead of his sister, before turning to face her with a hand held up between them.
He spun swiftly back around and entered the Estate.
Riven waited a few seconds more, rolling her shoulders before trailing him inside.
The announcement of the Noble Lord of Maedwen carried up the staircase a moment later.
Nox smiled faintly, ducking his head to peer at the sky through the glass. “I believe we’re only waiting on Samira to arrive now. We’ll be announced after her.”
Just then, a deafening crack rang out, the force of it rattling the windowpane.
Nova clapped her hands over her ears as a blinding flash of lightning struck the ground in the center of the courtyard.
When the smoke cleared an instant later, a tall female stood where the bolt had struck.
Her hair was a halo of tight brown curls, glossy and glinting in the sunlight.
Her sunflower-yellow gown accentuated the rich, dark brown of her skin, and a great topaz stone hung from a cord around her neck, thick gold bracelets ringing both wrists.
She moved with purpose, her long strides quickly carrying her on sandaled feet to the entrance.
The Noble Lady of Tundara was announced, and Nox headed for the staircase motioning for Nova and Lucan to follow.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Nova’s heart pounded so hard she feared it might be visible through her gown. Nox paused outside the oak doors and turned to her.
“You can do this,” he said, laying his hands on her shoulders. “You can do anything.”
A feeling of calm settled over her, warm like the sun emerging from behind thick clouds. With that, her uncle turned and crossed the threshold into the Great Hall. Nova took a steadying breath and followed him, with Lucan close behind.
The large space was empty save for a massive round table of polished oak in the center surrounded by eight high-backed chairs.
Twin fires blazed in the enormous fireplaces flanking the room.
Nova sensed a mix of unease and curiosity when Nox was announced as the Noble Lord of Silvergard.
No one extended a greeting as the three of them approached the table where the other Nobles stood waiting to be seated.
Nova avoided the eyes she knew were trained on her, keeping her own gaze fixed on the windows lining the far wall.
Though her chest tightened the nearer she got, she couldn’t afford to reveal even a sliver of soft underbelly.
So, she slipped on her practiced mask of indifference, the expression as familiar as a well-worn pair of boots.
All at once, the atmosphere shifted, and an overwhelming sense of pride flooded her, the pleasant heat of it gathering on her cheekbones.
Mine.
The word teased at the edge of her mind, faraway but unmistakable, sending an exquisite sensation trailing like a fingertip along her spine.
Eyes flicking to her left, Nova found Callan stood behind his uncle wearing a fine coat, the fabric a deep blue, his dark hair freshly braided at his temples and woven with silver beads.
Her mate cradled her in his gold-flecked gaze, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly in a secret smile, tinged with hunger and meant only for her.
Nova dipped her chin, hiding her own smile before it ruined her guise of detachment.
When she looked up again, she surveyed the room and its occupants boldly, her head held high, bolstered by her mate’s admiration.
With a resounding thump of the herald’s staff on the floorboards, the Nobles, at last, took their seats.
Lucan and Nova sat in modest chairs positioned slightly behind Nox.
Callan sat in a similar chair behind Thorn, and Riven took her place behind Lord Arthur.
Once all were seated, Thorn cleared his throat, then addressed the room.
“It pleases me greatly to see you all gathered here,” he began. “My deepest respect to the Noble Lord and Lady of Pyralis for welcoming us into their home during this time of great sorrow.” He bowed his head to Rowan and Estrid across the table, the couple resembling a pair of stoic statues.
“Some stipulations before we begin: Absolutely no magic is to be used, and no weapons are to be drawn. Am I understood?” Thorn jabbed a finger firmly on the table’s surface.
Some rolled their eyes and muttered under their breaths, but, not hearing any formal objections, Thorn continued over the quiet grumblings.
“I won’t draw out the pleasantries. I called this meeting because new information has come to light suggesting the time has come to eliminate the blight of Omen of Raven’s Isle once and for all. ”
Silence settled over the room like a pall.
“Eliminate Omen of Raven’s Isle?” Arthur scoffed before an incredulous laugh passed his lips. “That seems highly unlikely.”
“Do have some respect,” Sienna chided. “No doubt you know what has happened to Fawn.”
“And you have my sympathy,” Arthur said, bowing his head to Rowan and Estrid. “But you’d have better luck trying to eliminate the moon or the sun.”
“You are young, Lord Arthur,” Thorn said, his placating tone failing to mask his condescension. “But most of us are old enough to remember a Realm before the Shadow Court.”
“What is this new information?” Samira asked, voice low and smooth, her presence effortlessly commanding.
“As you know, many years ago, my own brother and his wife were lost to one of Omen’s attacks. Disappeared without a trace and presumed dead. But I have recently learned that not all who are taken by Omen are killed.”
Thorn paused for a breath before continuing, and Nova had to admire his fondness for theatrics.
“Some are charmed. Enchanted and held prisoner on Raven’s Isle.”
Estrid let out a small gasp, and Rowan straightened in his seat.