“I look forward to it.” She turned and started down the hall in the direction of her own chamber. When she glanced back, Nox had joined Lucan in the hall, the two of them speaking quietly with their heads bowed close together.
Twenty-Six
The moonstone lamps shone brightly when she returned to her room. Nova wished she knew how to shield the door as Callan had in Nivali. A warm breeze blew in from the terrace doors, swirling the sheer curtains surrounding the bed. Nova searched the drawers of the writing desk and quickly inked a message to Callan, reassuring him that she was safe. That her uncle was not what she expected and she truly seemed to be a guest, not a prisoner. Rolling the parchment, she tied it securely with a length of silver twine.
A gentle wind ruffled her hair and her skirts as she walked to the edge of the terrace. A piercing screech split the night air, and a large mottled owl landed on the railing beside her, its talons gripping the polished stone. Yellow eyes glinted in the moonlight as she secured the letter to one of its scaly legs. Nova stood back as the creature spread its great wings, launched off the railing, and soared gracefully into the sky.
Leaning her elbows on the rail, she followed the bird with her eyes until it faded from view on its way south. In daylight, the landscape had been barren and lifeless. In darkness, Nova found it mysterious and hauntingly beautiful, the coarse, black sand dotted with deposits of moonstone, glowing like ethereal jewels under the light of the moon. Exhaustion drew her back into her chamber, where she stretched out on top of the sheets. Sleep overtook her before long, her mind so weary she didn’t even dream.
A firm knock on the chamber woke her many hours later. Sliding off the edge of the tall bed, Nova rubbed her eyes groggily and opened the door. Nox stood alone on the other side, a smirk spreading across his face when he saw her, eyes rising to the air just above her head. Nova clapped her hands on top of her wayward hair, combing the strands flat.
“I can return later if you’d like some time to freshen up,” he offered as she toed on the shoes she’d kicked off inside the doorway earlier.
“No, I’m ready now.” She smoothed the front of her gown and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her.
Nox held a hand out to his side, directing her toward the sounds of music and muffled laughter. She paused at the railing overlooking the Great Hall. Courtiers crowded the area below, some lounging on the furniture, some feasting at the enormous table laid with platters of food, others dancing to a melody emanating from a string quartet stationed on a low platform in the corner. Nox’s guests certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Her uncle led the way down the staircase to the main level, where they meandered through the gathered crowd. Nox smiled and chatted with his subjects as they went, but he made no introductions.
At the rear of the great room, Nox held open a tall door, and Nova crossed the threshold into an impressive library. The high glass ceiling created a frame for the moon as it crawled across the sky. Shelves crammed with books reached all the way from the polished floor to the edge of the starlit canopy above. Rolling ladders sat at intervals, granting access to the highest stacks.
A large black sofa sat on the far side of the room, anchored by a plush white rug. A fireplace framed by onyx tiles served as a focal point, a low fire crackling on the hearth and a portrait hanging above the mantel. Nova crossed the open space to stand before it, tipping her head back to view the realistic detail of the oil painting. In the center sat a brawny male with a head full of inky-black curls and dark, fathomless eyes.
“It’s a family portrait,” Nox said, joining her. “In the middle is my father, Onyx. That’s me and my mother, Luna, on his right.”
Nox looked to be about fourteen in the painting, his white hair cut short and his ears unpierced.
“And to his left, my older brothers, Sable and Omen.”
Sable took after his father, with the same hair and eyes, though his build was leaner. Nova lingered on the image of her own father. Her skin prickled. Though younger, the silver-haired male with metallic eyes in the painting was, without question, the same male who had appeared in her dream shortly after she arrived in Aemoria.
There was no denying she was his daughter. She recognized the arched eyebrows, prominent cheekbones, and angular chin. All were features she saw reflected in the mirror every day. But how was it possible she’d dreamt of her father before she knew he existed? And what else, if anything, had she inherited from him? Nova inhaled sharply and tore her gaze away from the portrait.
“Come, have a seat.” Nox placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the sofa.
She sat, folding her hands in her lap. Nox paused before a glass cart and filled two glasses with red wine from a crystal decanter. Handing one to her, he sat, angling his body toward her. Nova peered into the glass and tried to discreetly sniff the contents while she waited for her uncle to take the first sip.
“I can’t kill you, Nova.” Nox chuckled and sipped from his glass.
“How comforting.”
“I should say, I would never kill you. But, in any event, it’s not possible for Fae to kill members of their own bloodline. It would threaten the preservation of the nobility if we could pick each other off at will.”
“But then how . . .” She glanced at the painting and lifted her glass to her lips, drinking deeply.
“How was Omen able to murder our father and brother?” Nox’s tone was jarringly nonchalant, and Nova sputtered, nearly choking on her wine. Her uncle regarded her with an amused expression as she composed herself, wiping a trickle of wine from her chin with the back of her hand. He took another sip, savoring the liquid in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing.
“I don’t know exactly. All I know is on the day Sable was to be wed, Omen appeared in the temple wielding a black sword. Before my father could speak a word, Omen ran the blade through his heart. Then, Omen turned on Sable and beheaded him where he stood on the altar.
“He tried to take Elena, but she refused him. She was terrified—we all were. Omen backed away into the shadows and simply disappeared. One instant he was there, and the next, he was gone.”
“How terrible.”
“Yes, well.” Nox sighed deeply before throwing back the rest of his wine. He refilled his glass and relaxed into his seat once again, propping one elbow on the back of the sofa and resting his head on his hand.
“My father was a terrible father. A terrible ruler. I think he felt most powerful when inspiring fear in others. He was cruel to us all, but he seemed to delight in harming Omen most. As the years went on, my father and Sable became a team of sorts, working together to torment him.”
“Why did your father despise him?” Nova asked, shifting to curl her legs on the cushion beside her.