Page 70 of Sun, Moon & Shadow

Satisfied with her handiwork, Isla nodded and headed for the door, taking to her wings and beckoning Nova to follow. Floating along a short distance ahead, Isla led Nova to the main level, stopping at the rear of the Great Hall in front of a door which Nova had never passed through. Inside a small antechamber, she found Nox waiting for her on a low sofa. He sprang to his feet as she entered, taking her hands in his.

“You look stunning.” He beamed as he held her at arm’s length.

“It’s not me,” she said, awkward under his focused attention. “It’s the dress.”

“I’m certain, in your case, the opposite is true.”

He dropped one of her hands but held fast to the other, leading her toward a second door. Through it, they entered a long corridor lined on both sides with floor-to-ceiling glass. A warm breeze blew in through the open windows and set the long gossamer curtains dancing as Nova and her uncle passed. Suddenly Nova froze, tugging on Nox’s hand as a swell of recognition crashed against her: This was the hallway he had shown her in a dream. A prickly sensation crept along the length of her spine.

Nova shuddered.

Nox turned to face her. She stared past him at the large double doors looming at the far end of the hall. He spoke her name softly and bent his head to meet her eyes, which flicked from him to the doors and back again.

“I know this place,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said, placing his hands firmly on her upper arms. “On the other side of those doors is the throne room.”

Nova nodded, her breath quickening as she recalled Nox’s memories made real by the visceral sensations of terror and nausea she’d felt in her dream.

“All is well, Nova,” he assured her. “You’re safe with me.”

Nox held his hand out to her, palm up. An invitation. She held her breath for an instant before she accepted.

The great doors swung open before them, and a shiver ran through her as she laid eyes on the ornate moonstone throne, glowing where it sat upon the dais. After a time, she vaguely registered that Nox was speaking to her. With great effort, she ripped her gaze away from the throne.

An easel and a worktable sat at the foot of the platform, the surface of the table crowded with charcoal sticks, brushes, small trowels, and paint pots of various colors.

“You inspired me with something you said your first night here,” Nox explained. “I’d like to paint a portrait of you.”

“Of me?” she scoffed.

“Yes. A portrait of you,” he repeated, ascending the steps of the platform. “You are part of the Noble Family of Silvergard, and, as such, you deserve a place of honor, proudly displayed within the Estate.”

He stopped before the throne and motioned for her to join him.

“Besides, when you leave me and return to the ice and snow of Nivali, I’ll need something to remember you by.”

Nova dipped her head as a smile bloomed on her face, a smile that faded as she beheld the throne before her, even larger and more imposing up close. Nox urged her to take a seat. Her lips parted wordlessly as an image of her grandfather seated on the same throne flashed in her mind, a vicious sneer splitting his stony jaw.

“This throne is your birthright,” Nox said, watching her expectantly. “Just take a seat.”

Nova took a reluctant step forward before turning and cautiously lowering herself into the seat. All the air flew from her chest, and a forceful rush of energy coursed through her body. Nova laughed nervously, half surprised she hadn’t been struck down by a bolt of lightning.

“Excellent,” Nox said, clapping his hands together once as he descended the steps and took his place behind the easel.

He proceeded to direct Nova as to how she should sit and the precise placement of her hands. Once she was properly posed, he set to work sketching on the canvas with a bit of charcoal. Sitting for a portrait was tedious and lasted several hours, though her muscles, fatigued from her increasingly intense training, were grateful to be resting. Nox distracted her as best he could while he worked, sharing harmless gossip about happenings around the Court.

“Perhaps you could relax a bit,” he suggested at one point. “You’re looking a bit stiff.”

Dipping her chin, Nova realized she was gripping the arms of the throne, and her shoulders had crept up toward her ears. She rolled her neck and splayed her fingers wide before laying her hands back down upon the carved stone.

Just then, a servant entered the throne room, delivering a letter into Nox’s hands. He turned it over once and stood, climbing the steps of the platform to pass the letter to her. Immediately recognizing the insignia stamped in blue wax, Nova broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, smiling faintly as she read Callan’s latest message.

Her fingers grazed her chin, and her smile blossomed even wider on her face.

“Just like that,” Nox said suddenly, drawing her attention. “Don’t move a muscle.”

Nova was silent, keeping as still as possible while her uncle’s skilled hands flitted around the canvas.