The Heir of Night

20

When Theia woke up, it took her a long while to realize that she was on the floor. Her head spun as she sat up, blinking at her socked foot. Where'd the other one go? Her mouth was dry, her eyes burning. Palms rubbing her eyes, the stars in her vision brought back the spotty events from the night before. She remembered getting lost in the wine on the couch, glass shattering, and waking up nauseous at some point in the night at the end of the bed.

Climbing to her feet, the heavy gown fell around her legs. Struggling to plant steady footsteps, Theia made her way out of the bedroom and down the corridor to the bathing chamber. A hot bath was certainly the cure to the after effects of getting drunk, and Theia was more than happy as she stripped down and filled the tub with steaming water and floral soap.

She took her time cleaning herself, tying her hair up with a ribbon she found in a drawer. She only decided to get out when her stomach was growling and the water ran cold. Having nothing else to wear, Theia dressed herself in the gown from the night before and let her hair fall from the ribbon. She slathered the scented oils onto her legs and neck before slipping from the room. Not having found her other sock, Theia chose to go barefoot.

Thankfully, she didn't run into the shattered glass that she remembered in the corridor as she made her way down to the foyer. The estate was quiet, save for quiet conversation coming from the dining room. Anxiety prodding at her stomach, Theia followed the hum of female voices and the glorious smell. She rasped her knuckles against the threshold when the large table came into view.

The females she had met in the sitting room were gathered around the table, clad in sleeping clothes. A feast of breakfast foods were laid across the table. Feyre was the first to fully acknowledge Theia, which she was grateful for.

"Good morning, Theia! Come, sit beside me and eat." The High Lady patted the seat beside her and Theia dipped her chin as she rounded the table and sat beside her. She felt eyes on her as she reached forward to fill her glass with water and drank it down.

"Theia, right? We didn't have the chance to speak much yesterday," a kind voice had her lifting her head. Everyone's eyes were on her, but she sourced the voice to Gwyn, the red headed High Fae. Theia gave a nod and a smile as she gathered a variety of foods onto her plate.

"Right, I wasn't exactly conversational," Theia chuckled, a flush running up her cheeks. She sat again and slowly began eating.

"We can be an intimidating group," Nesta, the High Lady's sister, responded as she shifted in her seat. Theia breathed out a laugh, feeling her cheeks grow warmer at each stare.

"So, you live with Nyx?" Elain asked suddenly, lifting a brow.

"Elain!" Feyre scolded. Elain shrugged as she shot a wink at Theia.

"Uhm, I mean, I do, but only because he is having the High Lord repair my home. My mother and I both reside there for now," Theia spoke quickly in an attempt to show the innocence of the situation. A few females laughed at her quick response and she sat back in her seat, averting her eyes to the plate.

"We understand the situation, Elain was just playing with you," Feyre explained, tapping a hand on Theia's thigh. That only just made her cheeks burn hotter. She didn't like interrogation, especially by the most feared females in Prythian.

"The males should be back soon enough. They went to the cabin at sunrise for their annual snowball fight," Mor explained, leaning back in her chair. Theia glanced up at her with a raised brow, fighting a laugh.

"Snowball fight?" The thought of Nyx, the High Lord, or either of those fearsome warriors having a snowball fight had to be the most hilarious thing she had ever heard.