Page 36 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

Nova awoke at dusk to the steady rustle of beating wings.

A messenger owl swooped in from the terrace clasping a folded piece of parchment in its talons.

The bird deposited the letter on the bedsheets beside her and flew back through the gap in the doors.

She snatched up the paper, sealed with dark blue wax stamped with an insignia of crossed swords, and tore through the seal, nearly rending the parchment in her eagerness.

Nova released a sigh of relief. Callan was alive and well.

Not for the first time, Nova imagined Callan hefting her over his shoulder. The needling anxiety in the pit of her stomach, which she’d been doing her best to ignore, eased a bit. She feared the unpleasant sensation wouldn’t fade completely until they were reunited.

Flinging herself off the bed, she rushed into the bathing chamber, needing to physically distance herself from Callan’s words and the feelings they stirred within her. She tidied herself at the sink, first cleaning her teeth, then dousing her hair with rose water and wrangling it into a braid.

Rifling through the wardrobe, she settled on a pair of fitted black breeches and a leather bodice cinched over a loose linen blouse.

She tugged on a pair of boots, then ventured into the corridor, where she wandered for a bit before getting herself hopelessly lost. Fortunately, she was able to flag down a passing servant who told her she could find Nox in his private garden and kindly offered to escort her there, chatting amiably at her the entire way.

Nox’s back was to her when she passed through the wrought-metal gate into the open-air garden.

Similar to the Temple of Illora, the area was crowded with potted trees, shrubs, and flowers in ornate arrangements.

With the exception of a few acacias and juniper bushes, Nova assumed most of the garden’s greenery was likely imported.

Her uncle stood pruning the limbs of an impressive magnolia tree.

From what she’d seen of Silvergard, very little sprouted from the dry terrain, but this tree was firmly rooted in the coarse black sand.

Delicate white moths fluttered around the white and pale pink petals, attracted by the fragrance.

Nova crossed the garden to stand beside Nox, quietly watching as he snipped off any wilted blooms. After a few moments, he finished his task and set the shears down on a table.

As Nox turned to face her, Nova took in his platinum hair gathered at the back and his black satin robe. She took a step back, stung by a barb of recognition.

“I saw you,” she murmured, recalling her dream. A shudder ran through her at the memory of Omen’s ruined hands.

“Yes,” he said, eyes downcast. “I influenced your dream. It’s not something I do often or that I take lightly, I assure you. I know it was an invasion, but it was the only way to make you see—”

“Through your eyes,” Nova finished, the pieces falling into place. “You showed me your memories.” She’d thought the visions were from the perspective of a child.

“It’s one thing to hear stories of my father’s cruelty. It’s quite another to witness it firsthand.” He met her gaze, guilt written across his face.

“It was horrific,” she said, aware the word was wholly inadequate to describe the sickening visions he’d shown her. The residual terror of seeing a child powerless to stop the abuse rushed through her.

Nox nodded in silent agreement. “I promise you, Nova: I will never enter your mind without your consent again.” He laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

Nova bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I’d like to get to know your, I mean, our people while I’m here.”

“You would?” He grinned. “That’s wonderful. I’ll arrange a welcome dinner for you.”

The heavy gate groaned behind them, and she turned to see Lucan, who’d halted in the entryway, one boot hovering mid-step.

“Lucan,” Nova said flatly. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” He made a mocking bow of his head. “Sorry to intrude.”

“There’s no intrusion,” Nox said, smiling faintly.

“I thought Nova might want to see the training yard. I’m headed there now for drills.”

Lucan was dressed in light armor of black leather, his curved sword sheathed at his hip.

“Excellent,” Nova said.

Traces of nervous energy still rattled like loose coins in the pit of her stomach, and physical exertion sounded like the perfect distraction.

“Very well. We can fetch some food and eat on the way.”

“You read my mind.”

Lucan scoffed and turned to lead her out of the garden.

“Play nicely, you two,” Nox called after them as they left.

A handful of minutes later, Nova and Lucan walked side by side, each gnawing on a roll stuffed with thick slabs of ham and slices of cheese. Both were silent except for Lucan, who occasionally identified points of interest through mouthfuls of food.

“Those are the stables. Obviously. The barracks. And here we have the training yard.”

Nova surveyed the sandy field enclosed by a tall metal fence. A force of roughly fifty guards stood in formation, running through a defensive sequence in unison.

“This is Nox’s personal guard,” Lucan said, throwing his shoulders back and puffing out his chest. “We have squadrons running patrols all around the territory. Most of our forces live in districts outside the Estate. They report for training several times per year, and we can raise them at any time if necessary.”

Lucan led her through the gate to an area along the side of the field with equipment laid out on racks and tables. He sorted through a stack of chest and shoulder armor, selecting the smallest one he could find and tossing it to her.

“That should be a good fit for a lady,” he said as he sauntered over to a cabinet and yanked the doors open.

Nova slipped the chest plate over her head and fastened the straps along her ribs.

It was a bit loose around the waist and not designed to accommodate breasts, but it would serve its purpose.

“Are there female soldiers?” she asked, tugging at the stiff leather material.

“Of course there are. But most have their armor specially made to accommodate their unique qualities .” He shrugged and removed something from the cabinet.

“I believe these belong to you.” He held her dagger and the sword from Callan.

Snatching the weapons from his outstretched hands, she unsheathed her sword at once, checking the blade for damage.

“I took them from the Nivalian vessel. Both are passable weapons,” he conceded, though admitting it was clearly a challenge for him. “Do they have sentimental value?”

“The dagger belonged—” Nova caught herself before she referred to Anson Greenmore as her father. “To the man who raised me. The sword was a gift. Forged by the legendary smiths of Nivali,” she added proudly.

Lucan held his hands up, palms facing her.

“Too bad they’re known for their steel and not their ships. Otherwise, you might have outrun us,” he quipped, cracking a smug grin.

Nova stared at him, stone-faced, until he cleared his throat and moved on.

“If you insist on using those blades, then I have something else for you.” He produced a small sheath and pulled out a dagger of Silvergardian steel, the blade slightly curved like a crescent moon.

Nova ran her thumb over the pommel, inlaid with a small, round moonstone, as smooth and shiny as a marble.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, raising a wary eyebrow at him. Lucan waved a hand in the air as if sensing her gratitude and deeming it unnecessary.

“I’m only hoping to prove a point that Silvergardian blades are far superior. Now, follow me to the sparring ring. No need to have an audience before you’re any good.”

When they entered the training room, Lucan instructed her to show him what she’d learned so far. He observed her silently from the edge of the ring, scrutinizing her every move as she performed the various sequences and maneuvers Callan had taught her with a wooden sword.

The moon ambled lazily across the dark sky. Before she knew it, hours had passed, and the drills concluded. Nova stood watching Nox’s guard, a mix of males and females as Lucan had said, as they filed off the field toward their other duties.

“So, does agreeing to train me mean you like me?” She panted, beads of sweat gathering along her hairline and rolling down her forehead, stinging her eyes.

Lucan smirked and threw himself down on a dusty incline at the edge of the field.

“It means I’ve decided to tolerate you. You’re important to Nox. Nox is important to me. So, I’ll tolerate you.”

“But you don’t trust me.”

“I told you already: I’m more animal than man. My primary concerns are food, fucking, and defending my territory.” He held up a finger for each item as he listed them off.

“In that order?”

Lucan continued, ignoring her. “I’ll protect Nox until my dying breath. Given your family’s legacy, you can hardly blame me for not welcoming you with open arms.”

He brought out a flask and took several gulps before tossing it in her direction and wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand. Nova caught the flask against her chest and lowered herself to the ground beside him.

“I don’t blame you.” She tilted her head back and drank greedily, the cool water easing her parched throat. A twinge of pain brought her fingers to her mouth, gently prodding at the split in her bottom lip. She’d caught Lucan’s elbow while sparring.

“Sorry about that,” he said, though his grin suggested he wasn’t particularly sorry.

Nova pressed her fingertips against her lip and closed her eyes.

Recalling Callan’s instructions, she emptied her mind and visualized the injured flesh knitting itself back together.

Warmth bloomed in the tips of her fingers and passed to her lip.

When she drew her hand away a moment later, the wound was gone.

She turned to Lucan, allowing herself a cocky raise of her eyebrow as she showed off her handiwork.

“How did you manage that?” he asked.

“Solar blood.”

Lucan clicked his tongue. “I suppose that explains how you walked away from a fight with a wolf.”

“A lycane, actually.”

Lucan’s brows shot up. He puffed out his cheeks and let out a slow whistle.

“But you’re right,” she said. “I nearly died. And I hope to never face one again.”

Lucan nodded, his expression almost sincere. “For your sake, I hope you never do either.” The sly glint returned to his eyes. “Because after what I saw today, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Gods above,” Nova groaned. “You truly are an ass.”