Page 17 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

Nova had never seen the Great Hall before.

The grand space boasted raw-wood beams spanning the high ceiling, gleaming oak floors, and a mezzanine above the main level.

Across from the large double-door entryway was a dais, upon which sat two gilded thrones upholstered with plush velvet cushions.

Two enormous fireplaces flanked the platform, one on each wall, both as tall as she was.

The room was dimly lit and teeming with noble Fae folk chatting idly.

Only a dozen or so candles staggered along the walls were lit, and a low fire crackled in each fireplace.

Fawn pulled Nova through the crowd by the hand, securing a spot at the foot of the platform as the court herald thumped his staff on the floor and announced the Noble Lord and Lady of Pyralis.

All at once, the twin fireplaces erupted with roaring fires, and hundreds of candles arranged on chandeliers ignited, bathing the Great Hall in bright, warm light.

The crowd applauded the Noble Lord and Lady, who now stood before their thrones under the standard of the Autumn Court, a tree with flaming leaves embroidered in gold.

The copper-haired Noble Lord raised a hand to quiet the murmuring crowd. He wore a fine coat of chestnut-brown velvet secured with shiny gold buttons. Several of his fingers were adorned with gold rings.

“A hearty welcome and joyful Hayer to all!” the deep voice of the barrel-chested Lord boomed, carrying to the four corners of the room. He turned to the striking female standing beside him. “On behalf of myself and Lady Estrid, please eat, drink, and enjoy the fruits of the harvest.”

The crowd cheered and readily dispersed, heading for the banquet tables situated along the perimeter of the hall and piled high with trays of roasted meats, one including an entire pig.

There were roasted vegetables, cheeses, and fresh breads, as well as sweet and savory pies, tarts of every variety, baskets of fragrant apples, and large casks of wine and ale.

Lively music burst forth from a band of stringed instruments, flutes, and drums set up in the far corner.

Guests began to mill about, greeting one another with handshakes and warm embraces.

As soon as the first notes floated on the air, a group of males circled Fawn and Nova.

Nova bowed politely as Fawn introduced her.

However, her attention was divided between Fawn’s introductions and the Noble Lady, who sat upon her throne.

Lady Estrid smiled as she watched the Noble Lord speaking animatedly with a guest. There was little doubt as to where Evander’s gregarious personality came from.

The Noble Lady, on the other hand, appeared more reserved, though Nova wondered if that was truly the case, or if she was simply a keen observer like Fawn.

“What do you say, Nova?” Her name on the lips of an unfamiliar male drew her attention away from the dais.

“What?” she asked absently, blinking several times and realizing she’d lost track of the conversation entirely.

“I asked if you’d join me in a dance.” The request came from a lanky, russet-haired male with twinkling green eyes who bowed before her, offering a hand with long, delicate fingers.

She was stalling, unsure how to politely decline his invitation, when he was suddenly shoved aside.

“Forget it, Hunter.” Evander shouldered his way into the center of the circle. “The first dance is mine.” He bowed and extended his own hand with a rakish smile.

Nova hesitated for an instant before accepting, wary of offending the heir of Pyralis.

The others exchanged thin smiles and snickers, suggesting they were accustomed to Evander doing as he pleased.

He took Nova to the far side of the hall, practically dragging her to where several other couples were already dancing.

The band picked out a jovial, fast-paced tune.

Nova had had little experience with dancing during her life in the Human Realm, and she knew nothing of the style of dance in Pyralis.

Fawn hadn’t thought to cover that particular topic in her cultural lessons over the past several weeks.

Nova glanced around at the other pairs occupying the dance floor, trying to get a sense of the movements.

Evander pulled her tight against him, grasping one of her hands in his, his other hand holding her firmly in place at her lower back.

She leaned her shoulders away to put some distance between their faces.

“I don’t know the steps,” she protested through her teeth.

“Just let me lead you,” he drawled as he began steering her around the floor in time to the beat.

Nova moved stiffly as Evander guided her through the dance, whirling around and around as the tempo quickened.

It was as if she’d been swept up in a current that refused to release her.

Her eyes darted between Evander’s sly grin and the faces of the onlookers, bleeding into one another in a colorful blur as the pair spun faster and faster.

When the song mercifully ended, she pushed against Evander’s chest, dislodging herself from his hold.

Out of breath, she muttered something about needing refreshment before rushing away.

Fists clenched discreetly at her sides, Nova scanned the sea of strangers, desperate for a familiar face.

She spotted Fawn standing near one of the fireplaces, deep in conversation with a tall male with straw-colored hair, presumably the infamous poet, Josef.

Nova raised her eyes to the mezzanine, searching the faces of the revelers in the gallery above.

Relief flooded her chest when she found Callan in the far corner of the upper level, observing the celebration.

He stood alone, the other guests seemingly keeping their distance.

His dress was uncharacteristically formal and finely tailored: a jacket of deep blue with silver buttons down the front and embroidered with silver thread, black breeches, and black leather boots buffed to a shine.

He was clean-shaven. Several sections of hair were braided close to his head with silver beads woven into the strands.

Nova was openly staring when his gaze wandered over to meet hers.

The Great Hall was already packed with folk standing shoulder to shoulder when Callan arrived.

He ascended the stairs and pushed his way to a spot in the corner of the mezzanine to await the Noble Lord and Lady’s arrival.

He preferred to remain at the periphery at such celebrations.

Though he’d resided in Pyralis for decades, he still felt like an outsider, especially when the gentry gathered under the banner of the flaming oak.

He continued to dress in the blues and grays of Nivali, a place that both beckoned to him and no longer felt like home.

Callan had anticipated Rowan’s parlor trick of igniting the fires and candles all at once.

His uncle loved to make an entrance, even if it was the same entrance year after year.

He found Nova the instant the candles flickered to life, as if she emitted a beacon that called out to him like a siren song.

She was standing with Fawn before the dais, gray eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

His throat went dry at the sight of her in a brilliant silver dress that hugged every stunning curve of her body.

The eligible males of Pyralis began circling immediately. Eager to make her smile. Hungry to hold her close for the brief length of a dance. Why shouldn’t one of them have the chance to make her happy? Nova deserved happiness. Someone kind who could give her stability. An uncomplicated life.

Callan wasn’t surprised when Evander claimed the first dance of the evening.

As much as his cousin infuriated him at times, Callan recognized the envy lurking behind his irritation.

Evander behaved as he did because he’d never been touched by tragedy.

Had never once had to contend with the cruelty of life.

Callan could only dream of being so carefree.

He looked out over the crowd and caught the attention of Lady Estrid, who raised a glass to him from her seat on the platform.

He bowed his head in response, a silent promise to speak with her before the night was through.

When he scanned the dance floor moments later, he saw Evander had moved on to another partner but Nova had not.

He glanced over the sea of faces on the lower level until he found her once again. The raucous noise of the celebration fell away as soon as their eyes met. He tipped his head toward the nearby staircase and quickly descended to join her.

Nova was waiting for him when he reached the base of the stairs.

From afar, she had been devastating. Up close, she was deadly.

Callan strained with the effort of keeping his gaze on her face when it longed to travel down over the swell of her breasts to the spot at her midriff where her plunging neckline ended.

“I wondered where you were hiding,” she said, standing practically toe to toe with him.

“I prefer to keep a low profile.”

Nova tapped a finger against one of the silver buttons on his chest. “Yes, it certainly appears as though you’re trying to blend in.” A faint smile lifted the corners of her lovely mouth. “You look so different.”

She ran her fingertips along her jawline absently, starting below her ear. He mirrored the gesture, stroking his own smooth chin and averting his eyes, suddenly self-conscious under her appraisal.

“I like it,” she clarified.

She extended her hand in the space between them, and Callan thought she might touch him. But her arm dropped along with his foolish hope, and she laid her palm flat against her abdomen instead.

“Was that you I saw on the dance floor earlier?” he asked, knowing full well he could never confuse her with anyone else.

“Perhaps.” She tilted her face up toward his, silvery eyes glinting under the light of hundreds of flickering flames. “Will you dance with me?”

“I’m afraid the sight of me dancing isn’t a pleasant one.”

“Allow me to be the judge of that.” She smiled at him fully then, one eyebrow arched in challenge, and, gods above, he knew she could convince him to do anything she desired.

Before he could respond, he spied Lady Estrid approaching over Nova’s shoulder.

“Callan, won’t you introduce me to this jewel who has captured your attention?” Estrid stopped a short distance away as Nova turned to face her.

“Lady Estrid, may I present—”

“It’s you,” Estrid gasped, her face draining of color. She held her hand out, as if she meant to touch Nova, to confirm she was real. “I’ve been so eager to meet you, my dear.”

“It’s a pleasure, my Lady.” Nova made a polite curtsy. Estrid regarded her silently for a moment, her eyes gone misty.

“Please, won’t you come with me? I believe it’s time we had a chat.” The Lady forced a cheerful smile and a brief laugh, blinking away her tears as she took Nova’s hand. “I’ll have her back to you shortly, Callan.”

“Yes, my Lady.” He nodded, and Estrid guided Nova to the door leading to the antechamber where the Noble Lord and Lady had waited to be announced earlier. Estrid stopped short, throwing a look at him over her shoulder.

“I need to speak with you as well. Come find me in my study after breakfast tomorrow morning,” she said, regarding him reproachfully.

Callan nodded once more, wondering what he was in trouble for this time.