The Heir of Night

52

Theia didn't think that things would change when Rhysand or Feyre returned, but she could hardly breathe through the tension that built. Currently, they were all sat at the dining table for lunch, silence deafening. Theia stared down at her plate, Nyx beside her. He kept a hand on her thigh as he ate, the only one who seemed relaxed.

"So," Feyre began, clearing her throat. Theia stilled and lifted her head, shoulders stiff. The High Lady was glancing between the two of them, her brow raised. Rhysand was sat back in his chair, a twitching eye set on his son. "You two... are together now?"

"Is it that much of a shock? I've been pining after her for months," Nyx shrugged, shoving another mouthful of his sandwich in his mouth. Theia's ears ran hot, her eyes lowering to her plate again.

"We were gone for three days," Rhysand sighed, his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

"A lot can happen in three days," Nyx responded. Theia shot him a glare, which he responded with a wide, food-filled grin.

"I'm not shocked it happened, only that it happened so soon," Feyre argued, a pointed look directed at Theia. She wanted to turn her eyes away again, but she knew it would show guilt, which she didn't feel. She'd never regret choosing Nyx.

"I think it would be best to have conversations with the two of you, separately," Rhys chimed in. Nyx groaned, dropping the last few bites of his food on the plate.

"We are adults, we don't need a talk," he argued, raising a brow at his father. Rhys's jaw rippled as he leaned forward. Theia glanced between them, guessing that they were having a mental conversation.

"Rhys, let's speak to Theia first and then we can speak to Nyx," Feyre said softly, resting a hand on her mate's arm. Rhysand shot back in his seat, a glare still leveled on Nyx. "Are you finished eating?"

Theia glanced down at her half empty plate, opening her mouth to respond.

"No. She's not," Nyx interrupted. Theia shot him a nervous look, gritting her teeth.

"I'm finished. Thank you," she countered, pushing back her seat. Nyx squeezed her thigh, attempting to keep her in place. Instead, she pushed his hand off, stood, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll be back."

Feyre and Rhysand stood and led her out of the dining room. She couldn't fathom what would have them so upset, especially after they seemed to encourage the idea of Nyx and Theia. Wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, she followed them into the sitting room. They sat in the twin armchairs by the fireplace, Feyre tapping her fingers anxiously as she watched Rhysand. Theia inhaled deeply and dropped onto the couch, chewing on her lip as she glanced between them.

"Do you not approve of me anymore?" She couldn't hold the question back. Their discomfort was too obvious to believe that they didn't have a change of mind.

"No, that's not it at all. I-," Rhysand began, cutting himself off with a sigh. He looked over to Feyre, who gave a small nod. He sighed again. "I was under the assumption that you would be a fling. I had a talk with Nyx, told him not to take this too far to the point that you'd be left hurt. I didn't realize how deep your feelings ran. Now, my only concern is Nyx's future."

Theia frowned, tucking her legs up. "I don't want to hold him back. Is that what you expect?"

Rhysand opened his mouth to speak, but Feyre reached a hand to his thigh. She gave him a quick look before speaking.

"It's not that you will hold him back. Nyx has his future, he has known it since he was a child. Someday, he will become High Lord. Our concern is that you will not be ready for that. There is a certain expectation held for the female's around the High Lord. In Velaris, we are one, but in the Hewn City, there's a difference. We are seen as pets. We've tried to change that, putting myself in a place of authority, but that history does not change quickly. We are afraid you won't like the way things are."