Page 63 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

Nova paced across the ebony floor of the antechamber leading to Nox’s council room.

Sweat gathered on her chest, a single drop trickling down between her breasts.

She slowed her steps and tried to remember why she had insisted on wearing this particular gown.

Thank the gods she’d asked Isla to style her hair up and off her neck.

Since her arrival in Silvergard, she had been leading a double life of sorts: training in swordplay and hand-to-hand combat for several hours upon waking and socializing at court for several hours afterward.

She’d kept the two areas of her life separate, and it had benefited her to a degree.

Idrian had only ever seen her in her fine gowns, chatting idly and dining with the gentry.

Not believing her capable of holding a sword, let alone wielding one, he had underestimated her.

It had given her an advantage in the end.

Nova’s decision to deny Idrian passage to the After Realm continued to haunt her.

More than once, she’d awoken from a fitful sleep, the startling image of the general’s decaying body burned into her mind’s eye.

She always saw him laid out in the black sand beneath an unforgiving sky, skin stark white and eyes cloudy.

With every breath, she fought to heed her uncle’s advice.

To forgive herself and accept the darker side of her nature.

The killer she had asked Lucan to make her.

The killer she had become to save herself, Callan, and all those she held dear.

At times, it was a battle she waged moment to moment.

Nova inhaled deeply, smoothing her hands over the black satin skirt of her gown, light and airy, emphasizing the softness within her.

Exhaling, her hands traveled to the waist of the black leather bodice with studded leather pauldrons, matching pocket-sized daggers sheathed conveniently at her hipbones: a clear warning of her growing lethality.

Lucan strode into the antechamber, his nose wrinkling immediately.

“Gods, it reeks in here,” he said, waving a gloved hand before his face.

Nova sniffed at the air before trying discreetly to smell herself.

“Not you,” Lucan said, a lock of his dark hair falling over his eyes as he shook his head. “Your fear. Have you tried breathing?”

“My gods, Lucan,” she said, words dripping with sarcasm. “Are you certain you’re not a sage?”

“You’ve no need to be so tense. It’s nothing but a few dusty, old lesser Lords and Ladies in there. You don’t need their approval.”

“Perhaps I don’t need it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.” She winced, fanning herself with both hands.

“Just do as I do: Simply walk in there with a manner that says you’re not to be fucked with, and pay them no mind.” He punched her lightly on the shoulder and strode confidently through the council room doors.

A moment later, the posted guard informed her that she’d been summoned.

Inhaling a final steadying breath, Nova entered the room with her shoulders thrown back and her chin level, projecting an air of authority. While she might not match Lucan’s level of confidence in her, she would do her best to pretend until she did.

Nova circled the round table of black stone, the glossy surface reflecting the light of the moon, nearly full and poised in the sky beyond the glass ceiling.

Stopping behind the empty chair between Nox and his commander, she endeavored to act as if she was perfectly at ease with so many sets of eyes focused intently on her.

Nox rose from his seat and held a hand out at his side, palm up.

Nova took it, and his fingers closed gently around hers.

Her uncle shot her a quick sideways glance, and she nodded almost imperceptibly before he addressed the council.

They had agreed it was no use hiding what many likely already suspected.

Even so, Nova’s stomach twisted anxiously.

“I would like to formally introduce you all to my niece, Nova Elsever.”

Coolly, she scanned the faces of the nobles gathered around the table, gauging their reactions. If any were surprised by the revelation, they certainly hid it well.

“As my most trusted advisors, I expect you to closely guard the truth about Nova’s paternity when you are outside these walls. I welcome her to the Lunar Council as the official Emissary of Silvergard, responsible for cultivating and maintaining relations with the other territories of Aemoria.”

The district representatives seated around the table clapped politely, a few going so far as to nod approvingly. Nova dipped her head in a slight bow and took her seat, quietly releasing a sigh of relief.

“Now then,” Nox continued, bracing his arms on the smooth slab of onyx before him. “Let’s begin. As you all know, there is much to be done.”

Nova focused her attention on her uncle as he laid out plans for the future of the Lunar Court.

Their Court.

Several hours later, Nova returned to her chamber, grateful to be out from under the watchful eyes of her uncle’s council.

Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her forehead against its wooden surface, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath.

A faint scraping sound came from behind her, and her eyes flew open, her intuition flaring. Someone was in the room with her.

Slowly palming one of her daggers in her right hand, she rotated the small weapon until she pinched the tip of the blade between her thumb and forefinger.

Another scrape cut through the quiet, and Nova spun, flinging the dagger toward the source of the noise.

The blade landed with a thud, embedding itself in the frame of the terrace door and narrowly missing a mass of black as it escaped into the night.

Nova rushed across the room and peered out to see a raven ascending in the sky, past the glimmer of the shield Nox had recently woven around the Estate.

She’d seen the raven several times since returning from the Gloaming Sea.

Thought she’d seen it. Soaring above the training field as she ran drills alongside her uncle’s elite guards.

Perched atop one of the black stone spires that crowned the Estate when she returned from visiting the shops.

Always there and gone before she could turn her head for a second glance.

She’d begun to question whether it was real or a trick of her eyes.

Lowering her chin once the bird disappeared into the darkness, Nova caught sight of a bit of folded parchment lying at her feet.

Its seal of blood-red wax was stamped with the insignia of a raven.

Nova opened the letter to find nothing but a single black feather inside.

Picking it up, she twirled the quill between her fingers as she spied a flash of inky wings against the moon’s pale face.

Though nothing was written within, the message from her father was clear.

Omen knew she still lived.

He knew where to find her.

And he certainly wasn’t through with her yet.