Page 19 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)
Callan stood before Nova’s chamber door, attempting to bid her good night.
Their dance had been too short; his hands lingered on her when the song trailed off into muffled cheers and applause down the hall.
Callan knew better. He knew what being so close to her would do to him, but his good sense did nothing to stop him.
He knew the pain of losing a parent, hated that he couldn’t take the pain away from her.
But helping her forget for a moment or two? That was a service he could provide.
The silence hanging in the air between them began to feel heavy.
Callan cleared his throat to speak, but a messenger owl sailed over their heads, dropping a letter to the floor between their feet.
Nova’s name was looped across the front in formal script.
She snatched up the folded parchment, running her fingertips over the cream-colored paper.
“Secret admirer?” Callan asked as he watched her turn the letter over in her hands, noting the seal of pearly, white wax, stamped with a symbol of a six-pointed star.
Nova slid a finger beneath the flap, breaking the seal.
Callan averted his eyes as she silently read the message.
When she finished, she gripped his arm, pulling him into her room and down onto a chaise beside her before pushing the parchment into his hands.
The writer, a Sister Iris from the Temple of Illora, claimed to have information about Nova’s mother and invited her to visit in one week’s time to speak in person.
The letter itself would serve as an invitation, granting Nova access to the temple.
Insisting on secrecy, the Sister requested that Nova tell no one.
“Where is the temple? Is it nearby? Surely, I have to go.” The words tumbled from Nova’s lips, falling on top of one another.
Callan was not so easily convinced. He turned the paper over and back and held it up to the light, bringing it closer to his face and squinting.
The seal appeared legitimate. There was no evidence of a charm or enchantment concealed on the parchment, though any correspondence laced with dark magic wouldn’t have been able to breach the Estate’s shield.
“The Temple of Illora sits on an island off the western coast of Silvergard,” he said, handing the letter back to her. She scanned the text again, as if it might somehow contain more information the second time.
Callan’s mind whirred, assessing the situation for potential threats or trickery.
He suspected Nova was connected to the Lunar Court.
Perhaps the letter was part of a ploy to entice her across the border into Silvergard.
Still, it was unlikely a sister from the temple would be involved in such a scheme.
Though close to the Lunar Court, the temple housed an autonomous Sisterhood, not bound to the territory in any way.
“Please, take me, Callan.” Nova’s voice was an urgent plea, her slender fingers clutching his forearm.
Callan tensed at her words, desperate to hear her speak them again under entirely different circumstances.
He wanted to agree immediately, but forced himself to consider for a moment longer before giving his answer.
Leaving Pyralis to accompany her on the journey would undoubtedly complicate things for him, but he would never entrust her safety to anyone else.
“I will,” he said finally. “I’ll make the arrangements and bring you there myself.”
“When will we leave? How long is the journey?”
“I promise to get you there in time for the meeting. It will be safer to travel to Nivali first, then sail up the coast to the Isle of Illora. But, before we go, I must speak with Lady Estrid.”
Nova stood at once. “Should we return to the Great Hall to find her?”
“No, you should rest. It’s better if I speak with her alone. The message said to tell no one of your plans, though Her Grace likely wouldn’t approve of you traveling to Illora even if I could tell her.”
“I’m fairly certain she wants me as a daughter-in-law,” Nova said blandly.
“She said as much?” Jealousy flooded his chest, a prickly heat creeping up his neck.
“She told me I’ve caught Evander’s eye. Not that he has been discreet.” She shrugged as she crossed to the door, the gesture devoid of emotion. Callan rose from his seat and followed.
“Try and sleep.” He stepped into the dimly lit hallway. “If I’m able to convince her of our plans, we’ll leave at first light.”
The festivities hadn’t dampened in the time since Callan had left with Nova.
If anything, the celebration had grown more untamed.
A large group of guests had begun a drinking competition, and those occupying the dance floor no longer followed prescribed steps, opting instead to twirl and stomp wildly around the room.
Callan spotted Evander swaying on the dance floor, his body pressed against a chestnut-haired female.
Her head was thrown back in a hearty laugh, and Evander’s fingers grasped at her hips as they danced, their tempo much slower than the music.
Callan clenched his jaw, grateful Nova was in her chamber, far from his cousin’s greedy hands.
Estrid lounged on her throne, her full cheeks flushed from the wine she swirled in her nearly empty goblet.
She stood and raised a hand when Callan approached the platform, beckoning for him to join her.
He found an unoccupied stool and carried it onto the dais, placing it beside her throne and taking a seat.
She flopped back down, chuckling to herself before tipping her head back and swallowing the dregs of her wine.
“And where have you been?” she asked, slurring her words ever so slightly.
“Around.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned toward her so she could hear him over the laughter and shouts filling the hall. “You know I prefer to avoid these affairs.”
“Oh, Callan. Don’t be so contrary,” she tutted, waving a hand in the air between them as if his sobriety might be catching.
“Where’s Uncle Rowan?” he asked, jerking his chin at the empty throne beside hers.
She pointed to the crowd gathered to watch the drinking competition.
The bystanders parted, and he saw Lord Rowan was a top contender, downing an entire stein of ale in seconds and slamming it on the tabletop.
Callan smirked as his uncle roared and embraced his subjects who cheered him on.
Ale dripped from the ends of his ginger beard.
“You look so much like your father. Especially when you wear your hair like that,” Estrid said, smiling faintly and running her fingers along one of his braids. Her smile faded seconds later, and she held a finger in the air, suddenly remembering she was cross with him.
“Thorn tells me you’ve been ignoring his letters,” she scolded.
Callan shifted on the stool. He hadn’t expected an opportunity to present itself so early in the conversation.
“I’ve been busy,” he said, pitching his voice over the dull roar of the crowd. “But, speaking of Thorn, I’ve been thinking. Perhaps it’s time I traveled to Nivali.” Estrid pulled back and stared him down, eyes narrowed in vague suspicion.
“It’s been some time since I last visited,” he added.
“That’s an understatement,” Estrid scoffed. She tapped a fingernail on the rim of her empty glass, signaling to a nearby servant.
“At any rate, I’m resolved to make the journey.” Callan paused for a moment while the servant filled her glass nearly to the rim. He continued once they were alone again. “I’d like to bring Nova with me.”
Estrid sputtered, nearly choking on the sweet red wine. “Bring Nova? Why?”
“Fawn has been teaching her about the territories. I’d like to show her the Winter Court. Also, I’ve been training her in sword fighting, and where better to learn than in Nivali?” He kept his face blank as she considered him, her eyes squinted as if she knew he had omitted certain details.
“She’s quite an intriguing female,” Estrid said finally, looking out over the crowd and tapping her forefinger on the arm of her throne.
“Very well. But I hope you’ll speak with Thorn and seriously consider what he has to say.
And I expect you to protect Nova as if she were one of my own.
She and Evander would make a handsome pair. Don’t you agree?”
Callan caught sight of Evander sipping ale with his friends, his scorching gaze following any female who happened past them.
“I’ll leave the wisdom of matchmaking to you, my Lady.” Callan stood and bowed before taking his leave to make arrangements and steel himself for the journey ahead.