Page 16 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

Fawn barged through the door like a battering ram on the morning of Hayer, humming gleefully as she tore open the heavy drapes.

“Good morning, sunbeam!” Fawn drummed her hands excitedly on the bed beside Nova, her voice an animated sing-song and entirely too loud for the hour. Nova threw an arm across her eyes to shield them against the bright light streaming through the window, announcing it was already midmorning.

“Did I miss breakfast?” she whimpered, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

A housemaid breezed through the doorway at that precise moment with a tray full of food, placing it on the foot of the bed.

“Clara, you are a gift from Embra herself!” Nova pushed herself up to sitting and dragged the tray across the coverlet toward her. The maid smiled and quickly left to see to her other duties, which Nova imagined must be numerous on such an important day as the harvest festival.

Fawn tempered her excitable energy a degree and plopped down with a bounce on the corner of the bed. Nova slathered a slice of warm bread with salted butter and sweet apricot jam. The butter had scarcely melted before she gobbled it up.

“I hope you’re rested because I planned a day of indulgence for us to prepare for Hayer. Now, finish your meal. I’ll be back to collect you in half an hour.” Fawn stood and bent forward, curling her arms in a hug around Nova’s neck before she left.

Nova pushed the tray away once she had finished, leaving only crumbs behind.

She hauled herself out of bed, wincing as she raised her arms toward the ceiling in a deep stretch.

She’d spent an hour training with Callan nearly every day for the past several weeks, and her muscles reminded her of her efforts.

She flexed her fingers, examining her knuckles.

The cuts from her first day wielding a dagger had healed completely with no trace of any scars.

Graduating to a wooden sword, she’d memorized the various positions for striking and blocking attacks, weaving the movements into a sequence she practiced for hours at a time until it started to become second nature to her.

She had always approached her interests with an intense, unrelenting focus.

Sword fighting, it seemed, was no exception.

She was eager to get her hands on some real steel, but Callan insisted she wasn’t ready yet.

A nick on the knuckle is one thing , he’d cautioned, but, healer or not, a severed limb is quite another.

Nova plucked her maroon velvet robe from the foot of the bed and slipped it gingerly over her shoulders. By the time she finished cleaning her teeth and washing her face, Fawn appeared in the doorway, her auburn hair piled in a messy knot atop her head.

“Are you ready yet?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Nova tugged the sash of her robe snug around her waist and wrangled her own mess of hair into a twist at the nape of her neck.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Nova said, following Fawn’s excited steps out into the hallway.

The Estate hummed with an energy that matched Fawn’s as they navigated the halls, preparations for Hayer fully underway.

More staff than Nova had ever seen rushed around the residence.

As they passed a row of tall windows, she peered out at the courtyard, bustling with activity.

Vendors were making last-minute deliveries, unloading wooden casks of wine and ale from a horse-drawn wagon.

Groundskeepers balanced on ladders hoisting banners of burnt sienna and gold, the colors of Pyralis, between the stone columns lining the Estate.

Nova followed her friend through a set of tall, carved wooden doors into a large bathing chamber.

Fawn’s day of indulgence consisted of soaking in tubs of steaming water infused with scented oils while gossiping about the gentry who would be in attendance.

A massage followed, and, by the end, Nova’s entire body felt supple and restored.

When they were through, Nova trailed dreamily behind Fawn on the way to her friend’s sizable chamber.

A platter of cheese, bread, and fruit awaited them, along with a bottle of wine, sweet and dark, tasting of blackberries.

They lounged in the sitting area, chatting while their hair dried.

Fawn giggled cheerfully, giddy from the wine and her excitement about the celebration.

“Tell me more about Josef,” Nova prodded, taking a tiny sip from her glass.

“Well, he’s from a respectable family, going back thousands of years. He’s kind. Handsome.” Fawn listed these qualities with little enthusiasm. “But most importantly, he’s a poet.” With that, the fire in her eyes flared.

“A poet?” Nova was surprised a member of the gentry would take an interest in the arts. In the Human Realm, creatives earned very little coin.

“Yes—a good one. He’s been penning odes inspired by me for years now.” Fawn threw her head back on the arm of the chaise in rapture. Nova smiled at her friend’s playfulness. She wouldn’t have thought Fawn was susceptible to grand romantic gestures.

“Enough about me,” Fawn commanded, sitting up straight once more.

“There will be many eligible males at the celebration tonight, Nova. You must dance with as many as you possibly can. Who knows, perhaps you’ll meet your match tonight.

Or at least a potential lover.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

A vision of Callan the first time she’d seen him on the training field flashed in Nova’s mind. Wielding his sword, he’d looked at once both undeniably lethal and painfully beautiful, his shirt clinging to the firm lines of his body.

Fawn gasped, and Nova flinched, momentarily afraid her friend had somehow read her thoughts. Fawn leaned in close, fiery waves falling loose around her face.

“You have had a lover before, yes?” she asked, her voice an exaggerated whisper.

Nova stared at her hands in her lap, scratching her thumbnail along the stem of her glass. “Only one,” she admitted after a moment. Fawn bounced in her seat, nearly spilling her wine.

“Tell me everything,” she demanded, smoothing her robe as if readying herself for the tale.

“I will, if you promise to slow down on the wine.” Nova gently pried the crystal glass from Fawn’s fingers and set it on the table between them.

“Of course! Whatever you want. Just don’t leave out a single detail.” She clapped her hands once, every bit an entitled heiress.

Nova shook her head, biting back a smile.

“Very well. This was several years ago now, when I was about twenty years of age. His name was Tomas, and he’d come from another city to serve as an apprentice to the farrier in Timberfell, where I grew up.

My father had several horses then, so Tomas and I spent many afternoons together in the stables behind my house. ”

Fawn listened intently with her fingers gripping the arm of the chaise.

“To me, he was magical.” Nova’s voice dipped lower, and she stared out the window as she continued. “I was charmed by his ability to coax the wildest horses into a calm stillness to carry out his work. The way he handled such powerful creatures as gently as if they were delicate sparrows.”

Tears gathered at the corners of Nova’s eyes as she recalled the young woman she’d been all those years ago. Incredibly lonely and desperate for connection.

Foolish.

“One afternoon, as we sat together, for once alone, he touched my cheek with that same tenderness.”

Fawn was nodding, the movement almost imperceptible.

“The act itself was much less gentle.” Nova flushed, embarrassed to be sharing such a private story.

But perhaps, she thought, this was the kind of intimate talk shared between sisters.

“You see, in the Human Realm, it’s considered improper for unwed males and females to be alone together.

We knew we didn’t have the luxury of time, so it was a hurried affair with my skirts pulled up, pressed against a wall in the tack room. ”

Fawn’s mouth fell open.

“The other times, in the hay loft above the stalls, were more leisurely, but we always kept our clothing on in case we were discovered.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Nova’s lips at the memory of the two inexperienced lovers.

Of the girl who, when they’d lain together, felt a little less numb and alone.

She omitted the end of the tale: how she had bared the wounded parts of herself to him.

How he said he loved her and promised to take her away.

How he abandoned her without a goodbye or a word of explanation when he found a position as a farrier in Faymere, leaving her alone once again.

“You’ll no doubt find a male with more experience at the celebration tonight,” Fawn cackled, wrenching Nova from her thoughts. She swiped away a tear with the back of her hand and snatched up the wine bottle, hiding it on the floor beside her seat.

Fortunately, two ladies’ maids entered the chamber to help them dress, distracting Fawn from prying further.

The one called Lilith, a wispy female with pearly, pale green skin, guided Nova to a cushioned stool before the gilded mirror above the dressing table.

She combed Nova’s hair, her long fingers quickly taming the tangled strands until they were smooth, then twisted it into a loose bun pinned at the nape of her neck.

Using common magic, Lilith heated a metal rod, shaping several tendrils into loose curls to frame Nova’s face.

Lovely by nature, Fae didn’t require much in the way of decoration, in Nova’s opinion, but Lilith insisted on lightly dusting her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose with a fine silver powder to accentuate the metallic ring within her eyes.

Nova gaped at her own reflection, turning her head from side to side to appreciate the maid’s handiwork. “Lilith, it’s perfect!”

“ Nearly perfect.” Fawn appeared in the mirror over Nova’s shoulder, a wooden box in her hands.

“What’s this?” Nova asked, running her fingertips over the intricate tree trunks and leaves carved into the lid.

“A gift, of course.”

“Fawn, you shouldn’t have."

“I wanted to. And I do what I want.” She placed her hand on Nova’s shoulder. “You cannot begin to imagine how dull it has been having only Evander and Cal to keep me company all these years. Having you here has been like having the younger sister I always dreamt of.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Nova stood and wrapped one arm around Fawn’s neck, cradling the box in the other.

“Open it,” Fawn urged, pulling out of Nova’s embrace and silently clapping her fingers together.

Nova lifted the lid to find a silver circlet adorned with luminous round stones the color of watery milk, and a pair of silver pendant earrings, each set with a single matching stone.

Fawn took the box and laid it on the table, lifting the circlet and placing it on Nova’s head.

Lilith slipped the earrings onto Nova’s ears, and Nova turned to the mirror again.

Although she recognized the face staring back at her as her own, the regal female reflected in the glass was wholly unfamiliar.

A knock came at the door, and the sprightly seamstress who had made Nova’s gowns entered, a garment bag draped over her arms. Fawn crossed the room and tugged at the lacing on the front of the bag.

“A final belated birthday gift.” Fawn pulled the garment bag open, revealing an elegant dress made from a unique silver material.

“This is too much.” Nova stood gawking at the brilliant gown. “Truly, Fawn. You’re not allowed to get me anything for at least the next fifty years.”

“Nonsense,” Fawn shouted with a flourish of her hand as she removed the gown from the bag and held it against her body, twirling in Nova’s direction.

A short time later, Nova viewed herself in the full-length mirror.

The dress was exquisite, the metallic fabric glinting like armor in the candlelight.

The neckline of the tightly fitted bodice dipped down to just above her navel, and the off-the-shoulder straps were each made up of several dainty silver chains.

The fabric of the skirt hugged her body tightly through the hips but loosened at the bottom thanks to a slit reaching the middle of her left thigh.

Lilith dusted the silver powder across Nova’s shoulders and collarbones.

Fawn sidled up beside her wearing a brown velvet gown that matched her eyes.

The long sleeves of sheer mesh fabric were dotted with gold beads, and the mesh dipped low, leaving the pale skin of Fawn’s back exposed.

A circlet of golden leaves rested atop her shiny auburn hair, a waterfall of loose curls cascading down her back.

“Shall we?” Fawn hooked her arm with Nova’s and flashed a conspiratorial grin before leading her toward the night’s festivities.