When The Last Petal Falls

12

The moon rose high in the autumn sky, its pale light bathing the courtyard in a cool blue glow. Bellona sat amidst the tranquillity of the Night Court's garden, surrounded by flowers that seemed to whisper in the gentle breeze. It was a sanctuary she sought out often, a respite from the tensions and expectations that weighed heavily on her shoulders. She traced her fingers along the ink on her collarbone, finding solace in the quietude of the night. Unbeknownst to her, Nyx watched from the shadows of the doorway, his expression unreadable as he observed her in silent contemplation. There was a complexity to Bellona that intrigued him—a blend of strength and vulnerability that resonated with his own inner turmoil. But tonight was not for introspection; duty called, and he knew he had to intervene.

Days had passed since Bellona's tense meeting with Rhysand, and each morning brought rigorous training sessions with Lysander. The training rings echoed with the clash of swords and the grunts of exertion as Bellona sparred relentlessly with the seasoned warrior. Her determination matched only by her frustration at the setbacks and the bruises that adorned her body. Sweat dripped from her brow as she pressed the attack against Lysander, her movements swift and calculated. She parried his strikes with deftness born of desperation, her focus unyielding despite the fatigue that threatened to slow her down. Hours passed in this dance of blades until finally, a well-placed blow from Lysander sent her sprawling to the ground. "I win," Lysander declared, his voice tinged with amusement as he offered a hand to help her up.

 Bellona's pride stung, but she accepted his assistance begrudgingly, using the opportunity to turn the tables on him with a swift manoeuvre that left him flat on his back, face pressed into the practice mats. "Actually, I win," she retorted, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she released him. Lysander grunted in acknowledgment, rubbing his neck where her grip had been firm. "Alright, that's enough for today," he conceded, a hint of respect in his tone despite the defeat. "Is it?" Bellona challenged, though she knew the answer already. Before Lysander could respond, Nyx's shadow fell over her, his presence casting a sudden chill over the training grounds. She straightened, pushing past the ache in her muscles to meet his gaze squarely.

"You seem a little tense, Prince," she remarked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips despite the exhaustion. "You seem a little tired," Nyx countered, his voice laced with sarcasm as he surveyed her bruised hands. Bellona huffed, the tension between them palpable. Nyx hesitated for a moment, his irritation evident before he spoke again. "I should've expected you wouldn't be able to keep up with real warriors. "The jab struck a nerve, and without further ado, Nyx moved into position, challenging her to prove herself. Bellona didn't hesitate; she launched herself into the fray, determination fuelling her every move. Their blades clashed with a metallic ring, each strike resonating with the intensity of their rivalry. Nyx held the upper hand, his experience evident as he countered her attacks with ease. Yet Bellona fought fiercely, refusing to back down. She managed to land a solid hit on his ribs, eliciting a grunt of pain from him. "Is that all you've got, pretty boy?" she taunted, a spark of defiance in her eyes. In response, Nyx's fist swung out faster than she could react. Pain exploded across her face as his knuckles connected with her nose, sending her reeling backward. The world spun, and before she could regain her bearings, she found herself tumbling over the boundary of the training ring, landing in an undignified heap on the ground. "Is that all you've got?" Nyx echoed mockingly as he loomed over her, his expression smug.

"Fucking hell," Bellona groaned, clutching her throbbing nose. Blood trickled through her fingers, her head pounding with each heartbeat. She tried to push herself up, but dizziness overwhelmed her, and she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Then, everything went black.

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Bellona awoke with a start, her head throbbing and her nose aching. She was lying on a soft bed, the scent of healing herbs and incense lingering in the air. Slowly, she sat up, wincing as pain shot through her head. "You're awake," a familiar voice said softly. She turned to see Nyx sitting in a chair beside the bed, his expression unusually serious. "You took quite a hit there," he remarked, his tone tinged with a mix of concern and something she couldn't quite place. Bellona touched her nose gingerly, relieved to find it bandaged. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly gentle," she muttered, attempting to sit up straighter despite the lingering dizziness. Nyx chuckled softly, though the tension between them remained. "You have spirit," he acknowledged, his gaze intense as he studied her.