Page 52 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

“Your uncle is asking for you. He hasn’t had a chance to gloat yet.”

Callan narrowed his eyes on his old friend. “I could get past you in a heartbeat,” he said, smiling despite the vague twinge of unease still gnawing at his gut.

Arik’s laugh filled the room. “You could try.” He uncrossed his arms and left Callan alone.

Callan shook his head. Best to face his uncle’s reprimand before attempting to ease his frayed nerves on the training field. Opening the wardrobe, he ran his fingers over the silk and velvet of Nova’s gowns before selecting a gray tunic for himself. Once he finished dressing, he exited the chamber.

When he entered the Great Hall, Callan spotted Thorn seated on his throne. He was engaged in a game of strategy with one of his courtiers, the two taking turns moving small carved figures around the wooden board. His uncle’s face held a poorly concealed look of boredom, and he perked up immediately upon spying Callan at the base of the stairs. Thorn dismissed his opponent, waving his nephew over to take a seat on the stool beside him. Small groups of courtiers lounged about the great room, talking quietly among themselves. Thorn grasped Callan firmly by the shoulder as he sat.

“I’m pleased to see you,” his uncle said with a genuine smile. “After hearing what happened, I’m surprised you returned at all.”

“We owe our lives to Nova.” Callan left it at that, not eager to revisit the unpleasant memory.

“Indeed.” Thorn swigged from a mug of something and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“The soldiers drew upon us, but to be fair, we were trespassing in their territory,” Callan said, eyeing a nearby tray of fresh bread and sliced cheese. He had missed breakfast. “They were surprisingly forgiving.”

“Well, it would have been unwise to kill a Noble of Nivali.”

“I don’t believe they knew who I was. They came for Nova.”

“Curious.” Thorn twirled the end of his beard between his thumb and forefinger.

“Not so curious.” Callan snatched up a thick slice of bread and tore off a large bite. “As you suspected, she discovered her father had Lunar blood.”

He would never share the truth of Nova’s paternity, but it was no use denying what was obvious to anyone who possessed a functioning pair of eyes. Callan thought of Nova’s raven hair, infinitely dark against her milky-white skin, and the delicate pink of her flushed cheeks. He found himself wondering if other parts of her blushed a similar shade.

Thorn was silent for a time, turning one of the carved game pieces in his fingers as Callan ate. Finally, he placed the piece down on the board, gesturing for Callan to join the game. Callan surveyed the board for a moment before moving one of his own tokens.

Thorn prodded absentmindedly at his teeth with his tongue as he pondered his next move. Callan eyed his uncle with mild skepticism. He’d been expecting something akin to the wrath of the gods, but Thorn hadn’t so much as raised his voice. It was entirely out of character.

“I recall you said she is . . . how did you phrase it? Important to you?” He nudged a token across the board with his index finger.

“She still is,” Callan said, not looking up.

Even more so, he thought.

Sliding a token to an occupied space, he flicked one of his uncle’s pieces off the board.

“It occurs to me, quite spontaneously, of course, that a union between the two of you could be mutually beneficial for Nivali and Silvergard.” Thorn tapped a finger on the edge of the table, glancing sideways at Callan.

Callan scoffed. “A week past, you would have seen her slaughtered in the middle of this very hall. Now you wish for me to wed her?”

“I’m simply suggesting she could be useful, Callan.” Thorn nudged a token into place and leaned back in his seat, drinking deeply from his mug.

“Nova is not a tool, and I will never seek to manipulate her.” Callan toppled Thorn’s final token with his own, ending the game. “If anything becomes of us, it will be because Nova desires it, not because I orchestrated it.”

Would she ever desire it? While Callan had come to believe something existed between them, she’d certainly given him cause to think he might be mistaken.

Callan stood and stepped down from the platform. He made a low bow before striding through the doors and out into the morning air, thick with heavy flakes, beyond. Rounding the corner, he leaned his forearms on the railing of the covered veranda that wrapped around the building. The frigid wind whipped around him, tugging at his clothes, but he found comfort in the stinging bite.

A sea of small wooden cabins stretched out before him, from the Estate to the docks, countless windows shuttered against the cold. Gray smoke rose from chimneys, commingling against the overcast sky. Callan stared at the distant, snowcapped Nephari Mountains to the north. A wall of solid rock separating Nivali from Silvergard.

Separating him from Nova.

Twenty-Five

The Nivalian vessel quickly disappeared from sight as the Silvergardian ship sailed swiftly up the coast, eventually mooring in a rocky inlet alongside several other ships. A small band of guards disembarked with Nova and the commander, taking a skiff to shore. The group hiked to a copse of bare trees at the summit of a rocky incline where several horses had been left tied to the gnarled limbs. Commander Lucan led Nova to a stunning gray horse with a silvery mane and gestured for her to mount. She stared at him blankly.