The mix of tonic and exhaustion had kept Nova asleep for a long time. She was curled up in a ball under her blanket when Mor stepped in and smiled.
"There's food on the table," she paused and waited for Feyre or Rhys to answer, "you'll have to leave her sometime," Mor finally added, in a gentle tone.
Feyre glanced up and nodded with a tight smile before looking back at Nova. They'd slept on and off all night, waking to ensure she was still there. Each time Feyre convinced herself it wasn't a dream, she'd fall back asleep to wake up an hour later and repeat the process.
"Come on," Rhys squeezed her thigh, "she's right. We need to take time for ourselves, too."
They still hadn't bathed.
"We'll babysit," Cas smirked as he stood and stretched from where he'd lounged on the couch opposite Az.
"She's not a baby."
Silence.
Perhaps her tone was a little too harsh, but she also didn't like her being referred to as such. Nova wasn't an infant. She was a teenager…
"I'm sorry," Cas nodded, swallowing harshly, "that was a bad joke."
Feyre pursed her lips and glanced at him. "I know. I'm sorry for snapping. I just…I'm dirty and hungry and…" She looked over at Nova, her face smooth of the scowl she'd worn since they'd first seen her. "And I got to hold her once, and now my baby isn't a baby."
Rhys threaded their fingers together as a heavy weight filled the room. The elation of finding their daughter now battled the loss they'd endured. He didn't say a word as he pulled her to his side and guided her away from the room.
It was to allow her to let the tears fall without eyes, and for that, she was grateful.
One long hot bath later, Feyre left the bedroom with wobbly legs. Only moments ago, Rhysand was buried deep inside her. They'd managed to keep a respectable amount of noise at least, but Mor grinned as they descended the stairs.
"Feel better?"
Feyre narrowed her eyes but smirked and shrugged as Rhys chuckled, but then they froze.
On the carpet in front of the fireplace, Nova was in a sitting position. Though, her injured leg looked a bit awkward, jutting out with the bandages. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around.
Everyone held their breath.
The scowl was back in place, and her sights were set on them—the people who had taken her from her home.
The home she'd known, at least.
"I'll bet she's thirsty." Mor left, and it wasn't long before she returned with a glass of water and slowly walked toward Nova.
Nova froze, her entire body stiffening as Mor set the glass at her side. It seemed to take hours for the seconds to pass as Mor retreated to allow Nova the space she needed.
Her eyes slowly slid to the glass of water, and her brow furrowed as she turned to stare at it. It occurred to them only then that she'd likely only drank from the river or the trees as she had that night by the fire when the rain poured.
Nova, ever curious, reached for the water. Her fingertips lightly touched the smooth glass before poking it. The glass fell, spilling out the contents with wide eyes and an opened mouth.
"Maybe she'd prefer a bowl?" Feyre asked, cringing. Giving their daughter a bowl to drink from sounded…vile.
Nova slapped her hand down on the soaked carpet, splattering it everywhere. Yet she did it again…and again.
What exactly is she doing?
"She's learning," Rhys responded with a small smile, "she'll learn this whole new world around her, and we'll need to give her room to explore and grow."
Mor smiled. "She'll still need to eat and drink. She's not in the forest anymore."
Pursing her lips into a tight line, Feyre nodded. "Nova?"
Nova didn't turn away from the glass she examined. She tipped it upside down and held it up to her eye to see inside.
"Nova." Rhys raised his voice just a little. It wasn't a yell, just a different tone, but Nova looked over and lowered the glass. She stared at him, confused and waiting.
Then he did what Feyre herself was terrified to do.
Rhysand walked to Nova, knelt, and offered her his hand. She stared at it, as she did with most things, but this seemed different. Feyre could watch the thoughts cross her face, unsure what to do with the token she'd been offered.
Feyre wasn't sure if it was the memory of being protected in the forest from those men, or the way Rhys had rocked her while she shook from her injuries the night before, or maybe some strange way of fate…but Nova took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.
Mor slipped a nightgown over Nova just after Madja started taping her wounds. The cloak itself had been a nasty gateway to infection, but now they could see the shape it had been hiding.
Nova was tall for fifteen; she had seemed much smaller before, but Feyre remembered she'd always been crouching. It was evident she hadn't gone hungry in her environment. She was built with lean muscle that hadn't been shy about protein and exercise.
The only thing that made Nova look any different than any other hardworking Illyrian was her stance. Granted, some may stand the way she did, and it wasn't easy to put into words, but the way she walked and held herself was almost like an animal.
A bear?
Or a wolf?
Sometimes a doe?
Feyre watched the way she moved with Rhys toward the dining hall in fascination. She supposed it was possible she'd gain characteristics of the animals she'd been exposed to, so what animal was she mimicking?
The image hit her suddenly.
"She walks like a fox. Timid- almost, but sly."
Az frowned as he watched. He said nothing, though he continued to observe her as they crossed into the dining room, where a massive array of breakfast items lay sprawled across the table.
Stepping to the side, Rhys let Nova's hand go, gestured to the table, and smiled.
"It's time to eat."
Nova turned her head to look at him. She tilted her head in confusion before looking back at the spread. She stood there with her eyes roaming the table but made no move to go forward.
"Maybe we lead by example?" Cas asked, raising a brow.
Everyone moved at the same time and sat at the table. Feyre sat in the middle on one side with Rhys beside her, leaving the seat to her left open to Nova. With everyone seated, Feyre patted the chair cushion as an invitation and smiled.
"Come sit."
Nova stared.
They stared back.
"Look," Mor held up a bowl of creamed oats; she dug in with her spoon and brought the spoon to her mouth, "Food."
Nova crinkled her nose but slowly ventured to the table. She stared down at the chair and managed to sit with some maneuvering. Sort of. Her bottom wasn't on the seat; she was half crouched, half-sitting, but Feyre wasn't about to correct that detail.
Sitting across from Nova, Azriel placed a piece of toast on her plate. It was something plain, something simple to start. It was a good idea, but Nova only stared at it with a scowl.
"Lead by example," Cas repeated himself.
Everyone, except Nova, dug into their food and began eating. Feyre had missed breakfasts like these. Cheese and grapes, oats, and…cinnamon rolls! Her tastebuds were dancing, but when she glanced at Nova, she couldn't help but frown.
Nova sat there, watching them eat. Her eyes roamed up and down the table, and slowly, her shoulders sagged, and her scowl softened to something different.
Sadness.
Nova's stomach growled, and everyone looked over, their utensils pausing in the air.
"Nova," Feyre frowned as she pointed to the food, "you can eat too. This food is for you too…"
Her eyes scanned the banquet again, and with a soft, defeated sigh, she lowered her head to rest on the table. She stared at the toast on her plate but took no action to taste it.
"Maybe the tonic has made her nauseous." Mor offered.
Feyre looked down at her leg, the wrappings didn't seem to bother her. Hesitantly, she reached forward and touched the back of her hand to her forehead, and to her surprise, Nova didn't pull away.
"She doesn't feel warm."
Meeting Rhys' eyes, he frowned and looked at the food half-eaten across the table. "Or we're not offering the right food." He mused and glanced up. "Imagine all you've ever known to eat is what the area around you provides."
"Like fish." Feyre started. "We caught plenty while we were there. She was probably living off it."
Azriel nodded. "Don't forget how she would have prepared it."
Nova's stomach growled again, and she sank lower in her chair.
"You're right; she wouldn't have cooked anything. She would have eaten everything…raw."
Cas made a face just as an uncooked trout flopped onto Nova's plate. She lifted her head immediately, brows raised in surprise, but a gleeful light filled her eyes before she snatched it off the plate. She sank her teeth in, crunching through the scales and bones, uncaring of the blood that gushed up and squirted out.
They all watched her devour the raw trout, and a bit of Feyre'as breakfast burned the back of her throat. She slowly looked over at Rhys with an arched brow, and his tight-lipped smile said it all.
"Fed first, manners later." Her mate finally managed.