A Court of Love and Devotion - Novellas

Wood Carvings

Hazel was a creative soul. She'd practiced every art form there was.

Dancing? She's learned since she was able to walk.

Painting? Her aunt Feyre had taught her from a young age as soon as the female had shown interest.

Theater? She'd had a role in every end–of-the-year school play since she was 12.

Music ? Hazel was no singer, but she did play the lyre and the flute very well.

Sculptures ? Yes. In most of its forms too. It started with pottery before she moved to marble, ice and even glass-blowing. Or food as well, with Elia. The two sisters would bake together and Hazel would have fun trying to make art out of cakes.

But there was one art form she'd yet to try. One that had much more meaning and would bring her closer to a man she'd never met.

Hazel was at her grandfather's tomb, repainting the letters on the stone in gold. The wooden figurine her mother had put there years ago had been damaged with the years and the weather. But it was still there, didn't look like much anymore but it stood by the stone, still.

Hazel blew lightly on the paint to speed up the drying before her family arrived. Aunt Elain got there first, winnowed by her mate, a bouquet of the flowers she grew from her garden in hand. Hazel stood and smiled softly as she went to greet her aunt and uncle. She didn't see them as often as the rest of her family, of course, as they lived in the Day Court.

Their children were there as well. Their sons.

Unlike her eldest sister who had always gotten pregnant easily and only ever had girls, Aunt Elain had struggled for a few years then only had boys.

Hazel walked to them with a smile. The eldest, Helius, was the portrait of his father, minus the scar. The second, Apollon, looked more like his mother. Same hair and eyes. The other boys were a mixture of the two. Hazel greeted each of them. First Florian, then Lirio, Solion, Tyran and Fox, who was barely two. A little boy with strawberry blond hair already long enough to cover his brown eyes. He raised his arms at his cousin when she reached him.

Her own sisters and parents got there a moment later. Then Aunt Feyre with her mate and children.

Today was her grandfather's birthday. So, like every year, the Archerons all gathered together in Velaris, first to visit the grave then they spent the whole day catching up. Hazel, like the social butterfly she was, always looked forward to that day. Luckily, it was in the heat of summer too.

The three Archeron sisters crouched to the stone and held each other while Aunt Elain said a prayer. It was the emotional part of the day, the rest was rather cheerful.

But when Hazel came back home, as she laid in her bed at night, all she could do was stare at the wood carving kit Elia had bought her months ago. When she fell asleep, she dreamed of a knife carving into wood, of swirls of oak floating around her. When she woke up, Hazel knew she was ready.

She went to the Rainbow and bought herself small blocks of wood, only to practice. It took her a day to get used to the tools and understand the technique. Within a week, she'd made a perfect rose. Within ten days, she'd made a bouquet. Then she bought a bigger plank and made a garden. Finally, she bought the biggest piece of wood she could find on the market.

A gorgeous plank of thick mahogany, the perfect warmth with very few swirls, that could be used to make a table long enough to fit eight people.

"Are you building something?" Her father asked her when she came home with the wood.

"Something like that," she panted. The flight home had been long and tedious. The plank was heavy so her father helped her carry it to the old playroom she had transformed into her own art studio.