Page 39 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

Callan stared into the fire, considering his uncle’s proposal for a moment before countering.

“Six months if you’ll part with the charcoal mare in the stables. Nova has taken a liking to her.”

“We have a bargain.” Thorn grinned, gripping Callan’s hand firmly.

An icy sensation slithered along the markings on his wrists, magic binding him to the terms of the agreement.

His uncle clapped him roughly on the back. “Join the feast tonight—both of you—as my guests.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Callan bowed and took his leave, winding his way through the smoky hall and back to Nova.

Nova’s travel dress needed washing. Bits of straw and sand clung to the sodden hem after her day spent grooming Shade in the stables and wandering along the shore. She wrinkled her nose and tossed the garment into the corner before rummaging through Callan’s saddlebag for a fresh gown. A member of the household staff had drawn her a steaming bath as soon as she’d returned from touring the village. The scenery was breathtaking, but nearly every resident she encountered throughout the day shied away from her. Their obvious unease stirred up a familiar anxiety in the pit of her stomach, like a layer of silt disturbed at the bottom of a pond.

Finally finding her olive day dress, she shook out the wrinkles as much as she could. It wasn’t the most practical gown for the weather, but it would have to do. Nova tightened the laces of her stays before gathering the skirt and stepping into the dress, easing the straps up over her shoulders. The doorknob twisted behind her, and Callan entered, averting his eyes when he realized she was dressing.

“Apologies—I’ll wait outside.”

“No.” She held up a hand to stall him. “I could use your help.” She turned her back to him, her stays peeking out from between the row of tiny buttons waiting to be done up along her spine.

Callan closed the door before coming up behind her. Nova held her breath, listening to the soft thud of his boots on the fur carpet as he approached. He made quick work of fastening the delicate buttons, with a tenderness out of character for a trained warrior.

Her breath caught at the brush of his knuckles against her skin. She wondered if the touch had been intentional. Callan lifted her hair over her shoulder, smoothing the strands down her upper back. Neither had spoken of their kiss during the many hours they’d spent together earlier. But an attraction that had perhaps always passed unseen between them now felt awake and alive, a forceful pull drawing them close to one another repeatedly throughout the day.

“Nova?” His voice was hushed.

“Yes?” She turned to him, steeling herself for him to broach the subject.

“I . . . made the arrangements with my uncle.” Callan retreated. The change was almost imperceptible, but Nova felt as if a curtain had been drawn between them. “He’s agreed to lend us a boat and a crew of sailors.”

“That’s wonderful news,” she said, at once relieved and disappointed. She looped the silver earrings Fawn had gifted her through her ears and slid her mother’s ring back onto her finger.

“You’re welcome to have Shade, as well. And all for the price of six months of my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I agreed to remain in Nivali for six months after we return.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it’s time.”

“Your uncle must be pleased.”

“He’s invited us to join the feast tonight as his guests. If you’d like, of course.”

“How kind of him.” Nova’s voice lacked the enthusiasm she’d hoped to muster. She worried the ring around her finger, a nervous habit she’d developed since arriving in Aemoria.

“I can have our meal brought up if you’d rather not go,” he offered.

“I don’t wish to cause anyone discomfort.” She attempted a casual laugh, but it came out a bit choked. “Most folk I saw around the Estate today would barely glance in my direction, let alone speak to me.” Her eyes found his, trying to read his reaction there.

Callan’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

“Nivali shares a border with Silvergard. Even before the reign of Onyx and Omen’s attacks around the Realm, there had already been mistrust between the territories for thousands of years. Onyx’s youngest son sits on the Lunar Throne today. I’m sorry, Nova—their suspicion is based purely on your appearance.”

Nova gathered her hair and busied herself with weaving the damp strands into a braid. What a fool she’d been to believe she’d finally found acceptance. What did it say about her that even in a world teeming with magic and mythical creatures, she was still wrong somehow? Still didn’t belong? Callan’s gaze lingered on her. Nova bit the inside of her cheek, willing her face into a neutral expression.

“Nova.” His tone was apologetic. She couldn’t bear the thought of him pitying her.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Callan. Gods know it isn’t the first time I’ve been judged for my looks.” She secured the end of her plait with a black leather cord and smoothed her hands over the front of her gown. “Let’s join the feast. I’m starving.”

Nova knew her performance hadn’t fooled him. Knew he could see right through her carefully crafted exterior. But he said nothing and simply offered his arm.