Seven Courts of Love and Magic

Chapter 3

Nyx

The High Lords meeting is as boring as it is long, and I spend half of it dozing off. The other half, I spend trying to avoid the gaze of one specific person in question.

The future High Lords and Ladies of Prythian are deigned with the honor of attending the first half of each meeting—an attempt to train us into the leaders we might one day become. Zaria, insistent on scowling at me from across the table where she is seated beside her father, pays no attention either. Tamlin, himself, is avoiding looks towards my mother and father; no love lost there it seems, even after all these years.

At last, we are dismissed and I am the first to depart from the table, escaping the overly stuffed meeting room. I make towards the open expanse of the entryway, intending to fly away my thoughts, regardless of the ache growing beneath my wings that has been bothering me since the morning.

I am interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Zaria, peering at me with hateful green eyes that remind me so much of her fathers.

It has been months. A blur of golden hair and a glimpse of emerald eyes. Warm breath and soft lips. Will you do it? It's not true. The truth is, I'm afraid. Of all of it.

The top of her blonde head barely reaches my collar bones. I don't know how else to greet her besides saying her name.

"Nyx." Her voice—deep, yet feminine—stirs my stomach. A slight shake of her head lets loose, thick locks of golden hair astray across her brow. "Nice to see you here."

I am at unease. I don't know how to react when she's near. It unsettles me and I don't enjoy it. "Well, it is expected. This is my court."

She smiles. My stomach flips. "Well, not yet. It is your father's court. But, I am sure you are well on your way." She circles around me and I don't dare move. "How does one step into the shoes of the most powerful High Lord in history? It can't be easy—can it?"

She steps back into view. I clench my jaw, avoid her question. "And you? I can't imagine the High Lord of Spring ever conceding his court to a High Lady."

Just the two of us now—alone in the hallway. The end of the meeting drags on behind closed doors. I hear a scrape of chairs, expecting my father to file out of the room soon. Everyone else has either left or scattered to the foyer for refreshments.

A waved strand of long hair gets caught in Zaria's face and she moves to tuck it behind a pointed ear, her words pulling me back to focus. "My father, is not the brute your parents make him out to be," she sneers at me.

The stories of my mother's past boil to my thoughts and I can't stop myself. "No, I suppose not. I suppose he didn't trap your mother, or diminish her very existence, or—"

Zaria looks down quickly, tears in her eyes. I close my mouth before I can say more.

She brushes it off just as quickly as I said it, looking at me now with more concern than anger. Her voice softens, barely above a whisper. She says, "Have you thought more about what I asked you?"

There is a part of me that will never forgive Tamlin, knowing my father won't ever forget the days he spent prior to being united with his mate, my mother. My father may never forget that pain, though my mother has long forgiven Tamlin. I feel I more closely resemble my father's sentiments.

I don't have the chance to answer Zaria's question. Tamlin steps into the hall seeming tired and worn down—almost guilty. "Zaria." He doesn't look to her, instead staring past my shoulder. "Let's go."

I turn to see my father behind me, his violet eyes mirroring the darkest of Velaris' storms. He only says my name and clasps his hand on my shoulder. Zaria doesn't look to me before she turns to leave with the High Lord of the Spring Court. I watch her walk away, her hair shimmering, golden Velaris starlight in its own right. I barely hear Tamlin when he says, "Stay away from that family."

——————

I wake in the middle of the night, panting. I can't breathe—as if my chest is caving in. I fall out of bed, heaving, and pull on a pair of trousers before I stumble my way into the bathroom.

My palms rest on the cool surface of the sink, holding my weight, and I try to catch my breath. I can't. Words tumble through my head between forced breaths, relentless. It isn't true. Help me. Please, Nyx, help me. High lord. Not enough, never enough. Mate.

Mate.

I collapse against the last word, closing my eyes and letting my head rest against the cold bathroom floor.

Mate.

My parents are mates—the best I've ever known. My Uncle Cassian and Aunt Nesta are mates. Even my Uncle Azriel is mated. And now I am mated too.

I think about the sky, the wind, and the clouds. I recall the lights of Velaris—calming me during even the worst of my anxieties. My breathing slows and I open my eyes. I take one more composing breath before rising to rinse my face with ice water.

I force my gaze to my face in the mirror. Mates. My jaw clenches. I had come to terms with the unwelcome fact, but seeing her today—it opened a raw and festering wound that I had mentally worked so hard to close. I didn't want it. I didn't ask for it. No one would understand, no one. How could I look my father in the eye and tell him that I was mated to the daughter of the person he hates most in the world. Tamlin would kill me before I ever even had the chance. And my father, my mother, they would—

My thoughts are interrupted by a small scuffing echoing down the hallway. So small that I almost don't hear it—almost. I walk slowly to the door, angling my head against the frame in an attempt to hear the opposite side. "Cauldron boil me," a soft voice mutters.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes, recognizing the voice instantly. I tug the door open before she has a chance to escape and find her jade eyes—lit up even through the dimness of the darkness. "What in Cauldron's name are you doing out here?"