A Court of Storm and Legacy

Silver and Grey

Tate

My mind has been running a million miles an hour since Nyx returned from that tomb. I've barely seen in him in the past few weeks. The only times I've seen him have been when he visits my room to brings me trays of food so I can eat without stopping my research. 

He was already checking in on me an absurd amount before he realized that I'd gone two whole days without eating. Then he became an unbearable mother hen who threatened to shove food down my throat three times a day if I couldn't do it myself. Since that day, I see him at every meal time with a little tray of food and an adorable smile. 

Sometimes he stays, content to sit on my bed and pretends to read a book while in reality he watches me read. I pretend not to notice. 

I can't help but feel bad, he's the one recovering from an injury and I'm the one receiving special treatment. I can't help it though, I'm desperate to find an answer to what I saw on the walls of that tomb. 

I'd sent a letter to Diar shortly after we returned to Velaris with a long list of questions and a short explanation that our retrieval plan would be taking longer than originally intended. The reply I got was short and to the point: Make it happen. 

I'd torn the envelope apart, scanning both sides of the letter, hoping that he'd written another message, one with answers to my questions. But I got nothing. So, I was forced to find them on my own, searching through every piece of literature I could find. 

So far I'd gotten exactly nothing. 

The knock on my door was right on schedule and I waited for Nyx to let himself in. 

The second set of knocks a moment later dragged me away from my desk towards my door. 

"If you don't have a free hand to open the door Nyx, then you're holding way more food–" I swung the door open and paused suddenly. "Oh. Hullo." 

I tried tampering down my disappointment as I opened the door to find an absurdly tall Illyrian male with cool green eyes holding a small breakfast tray. 

It was Myer, one of Nyx' good friends. I'd met him a couple times on occasion, but we'd rarely had the chance to carry an entire conversation, only a brief word here and there. I'd noticed he was on the shyer side, whereas Idris and Elinor co-captained the conversations. He sat back, watching intently the latter more than the former. When I'd said as much to Nyx, he simply shook his head and attempted to hide his smile. 

Myer was incomprehensibly tall. He always seemed uncomfortable, like his height made every stance he put himself in seem wonky and uneven. This awkwardness was not missing in the least as he unceremoniously shoved the tray into my awaited hands. 

Myer kept his face neutral, lips pressed firmly together. "Nyx sends his apologies. He couldn't make your food delivery today, so he sent me instead," Myer's hands fidgeted by his side, like he didn't know what to do with them. 

It was charming. 

"Where is he?" 

"He's sick," Myer provided. 

"Sick?"

Myer began walking down the hall, leaving me in my doorway dumbfounded. 

"Wait! Myer–" I scrambled to put the tray on a chair by the entrance before rushing out into the hall. "What's wrong–"

Myer swirled suddenly and swiftly. I dug my heels into the ground so I wouldn't bump into his suddenly motionless body. 

"He's not your servant you know," was all he said, his face betraying nothing.