The Dark Heir - Nyx

62. Theia

With Nyx being beat into the ground by his younger cousin, Theia was left to herself. She sat in Nyx's bedroom, repeatedly combing her hair as she tried to bring herself to go downstairs. If Zen had been brought home by Cassian for the wedding, then it was meant to happen soon. Theia had wanted it to be a private event, just the two of them and the Priestess, whispering vows and gentle promises. She didn't want a crowd witnessing their love for one another.

With a sigh, Theia dropped her hands into her lap. They ached from how long she had combed her hair. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she glanced to the door through the mirror. She needed to go down there and act civil, pretend what they had done never hurt her. Nyx believed she was brave and strong, and Theia wished so deeply that she was, but she felt like her heart would fly from her ribscage with how nervous she was.

Knowing that Zenova would want to go into the city, Theia had dressed in a green floral gown with small straps and a low back. It went to her knees and fanned out, keeping her cool on the summer day. It made her nervous to spend time with the young female that meant so much to Nyx. She was a warrior through and through, and Theia couldn't help but assume the girl would be aggressive with questions.

Running her hands over her face, Theia decided it was time to face them. She laid the comb down and stood. It had been bliss to hide away with Nyx and just be alone; the idea made her consider his offer of finding a separate home for them. She'd like to be able to go to the kitchen without running into someone that made her life difficult.

Theia left Nyx's bedroom, bare feet padding on the complexly designed running mats down the corridor. By the time she made it to the main floor, her fingers were twitching with nerves and her heart pounded heavily enough that she was shocked it wasn't echoing. Peering into the sitting room, she saw that it was empty. Gnawing on her lip, Theia went to the corridor that held the double doors to the back gardens. If anything, she'd watch Nyx and Zenova spar. A soft clatter of wood against wood perked her ears.

Theia glanced into the cracked doorway of Feyre's studio. The High Lady was kneeling on a small bench that looked like it was meant for a piano. Her paint covered fingers ran over her chin as she studied the canvas in front of her. Cautiously, Theia stepped in. Feyre's head turned, a smile lifting onto her face.

"Theia, I'm glad to see you. I believe I'm finished with Nyx's portrait, but I'd like your opinion. Come, take a seat."

Swallowing, Theia walked to the bench. She sat on the cushion with her fingers laced in her lap. The painting was incredible; Nyx's features as clear as his person. The colors blended perfectly to show his skin, cheeks pink as he laughed. His eyes still held the joy Theia had done her best to capture. Capturing her lip between her teeth, Theia leaned forward.

Feyre had gotten his damp curls perfect. They looked wet. Theia almost wanted to reach out and feel the strokes of paint just to see if it felt as real as it looked. His lips were spread wide with a laugh, his long teeth glinting with the white-grey paint. Even the position of his throat, mid-laugh and strained was beautifully recreated. Even his trimmed beard looked as rough and fluffy as it was in person.

"Feyre, it's amazing. Truly, it's him."

Feyre's hand laid over Theia's in a soft gesture. Theia turned her head to see her smiling over.

"You created this. I simply brought color to it. Not only did you create this piece, but this look on his face. I only ever saw him smile when he was drunk on whiskey and not himself. You made him this male after two centuries of Nyx being a stranger to us all. I believe this is my favorite of all of the art in this room. I want it hung everywhere, I always want to see the joy in my son when he looks at you. I can't thank you enough, Theia. You brought him back to life by loving him, and I believe that is the greatest gift a mother could have."