The Heir of Night

48

It was easier with a brush than her fingers. Using subtle pigments, Theia painted herself to become a creation of her own hand. She had chosen browns and golden tones, swiping them over her eyelids and cheeks. With a thin brush, she painted the pinkish oil over her lip. A bristled comb stained with black laid in a fabric bag beside a few jars of pigment.

Frowning, she pulled the brush out and studied her face to determine where it went. She'd seen how Mor had long and dark lashes even as a blonde; how Nesta and Feyre had that same trait. Theia unscrewed the jar and dipped the brush in, running it along the edge to remove excess. With a deep inhale, she pressed it to her eyelashes and blinked. Pigment threaded through her already dark lashes but also brought them length.

Finished, Theia cleaned the brushes and placed them back on the shelf. Before she could admire her work, she ran lotions and perfume over her skin. Feeling clean and wealthy, she gazed in the mirror. It wasn't a drastic change like she had hoped, but it was better than whatever she had looked like before.

Realizing she had taken up too much time, Theia quickly ran a brush through her hair and pulled on the lace-topped socks and underwear. She stepped into the dress and pulled it up, shimmying her arms through the fabric. It was snug, more so than she had expected. With one last unimpressed glance to the mirror, she gathered her clothes into her arm and marched from the bathing chamber.

She took a detour to her bedroom to drop her clothes and pull on her boots. Satisfied enough, Theia made her way to the sitting room. It would be her first outing in Velaris since the day Nyx walked her around. She didn't know how to act, or even think. Especially around Nesta, Azriel, Cassian, Mor, and Emerie. Normally, Theia spent her time with Feyre or alone. It was rare that she was around any of them. Their voices were loud as she neared the doorway. Wiping her palms on her skirt and steadying her breath, Theia marched in. Nyx had been watching the door, because he saw her the moment she stepped in.

"Hi, pretty," Nyx called, waving his fingers as indiciation for her to come to him. She blushed and went to his side, leaning into his body as he slid an arm beneath her wings. Cassian and Nesta were standing in a similar position, and Azriel was next to Nyx. Theia greeted them all with a forced smile and a nod, clutching the fabric of Nyx's shirt tightly. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her waist.

"Are we ready?" Azriel asked before finishing off the glass of whiskey he had in his hand. Cassian did the same as he nodded. Nesta took his hand from her waist and began leading him to the doorway, Azriel on his heels. Theia took a step forward but Nyx tugged her back, his breath hot on her ear.

"You look so fucking beautiful," he murmured, lips pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her ear. Theia dipped her head to hide the flush on her cheeks, but his free hand caught her, knuckles pressing into the skin. "Wear it proudly. I want everyone to see that beautiful face, and I want them to see when I'm the one to kiss it."

Her flush ran deeper as she nodded, breath heavy. He had a way with stealing her thoughts and air, every thread of sanity snipped away with his touch. Theia knew then just how much she'd loved to go insane at his hand. Nyx let out a satisfied hum and led Theia out the door. The group had stopped at the front door to wait, Nesta grinning when she noted Theia's red cheeks. She had the urge to hide her face in Nyx's chest, but at his word, she smiled back.

The orange-tinged sun was bright against the snow, clouds sparse. Theia felt the warmth of it against her, grinning at the lack of wind and chill. Even during summer months, the village never grew warm. As spring hinted it's arrival in the next few months, the sun let her heat warn the land. Theia bathed in it, savored it. She didn't know if she'd have to return to the village anytime soon, but she hadn't felt weather like this before, so she'd hold on as long as she could.