"We're going to the library today, Nova," Rhys said with a quirked smile at the breakfast table. It was just Feyre, Nova, and Rhys this morning, leaving them to find something new for Nova to explore.
"Library?" Nova asked in question. "Why?"
It had been a week since the festivities in Velaris, and while Nova wasn't speaking in sentences, she was beginning to expand her vocabulary. Instead of only repeating the words she heard, she'd started asking her new favorite word. 'Why?'
While this was exciting, Nova still didn't have enough vocabulary to understand the answer. They doubted she understood what 'why?' meant. She'd started repeating it when she heard Feyre say it one night. While there has been a lot of progress since she first arrived, for now, she would still be learning best through imitation.
"Because libraries are an essential space. They hold knowledge, and knowledge is powerful," Rhysand answered with a patient smile. "There are rules in a library, though."
Nova took another blackberry, watching him.
"Rules like being quiet." Rhys continued.
"Quiet?" Nova asked in a voice that was the opposite of quiet.
Feyre smiled as Rhys lowered his head and whispered, "Quiet."
Nova, mimicking him, lowered her head too and whispered, "Quiet."
Chuckling, Rhys nodded. "Exactly. We'll go right after breakfast." He then quipped, "I'm sure Nesta will be there."
Feyre sighed and shook her head. "Nova is going to catch onto your tone one of these days."
"And she is going to learn something that is no secret to anyone."
"Rhys," Feyre pursed her lips, "I know better than anyone who my sister is, but I genuinely think she wants what's best for her."
Shaking his head, he sighed, "She wants what's best for herself. I don't trust what she wants of Nova."
"And what does she want of her? Tell me because I don't know what you're talking about."
Nova glanced between them, listening but not understanding. She frowned, sinking a little lower in her chair.
"I don't know."
"So you'll write off her help simply because you have a hunch? Nesta is a lot of things, but she went out of her way to get those books for her."
"We could have gotten her books, Feyre," Rhys' tone clipped a little short, "It doesn't make her a saint or sponge away the words she's used against you. I don't trust her intentions."
Feyre rubbed her temple and glanced at Nova, only to realize she was scowling at them. She was rigid, and it occurred to Feyre that they'd not argued in front of her before.
"I'm sorry, Nova," Feyre murmured, "Sometimes people have disagreements, and sometimes they need to talk about them to understand each other better."
Since the night of the celebration, everyone had more or less walked on eggshells around the sensitive subject of Nova's wings- or lack thereof. Ironically, Nova seemed the one most unbothered, but it had also brought up a lot of new talking points.
"I agree with Cassian," Feyre finally said, changing the subject, "I want her to be able to wield a weapon sooner rather than later."
Rhys nodded, "I had the same thought. We can save her magic skill for later, but we need her to learn how to handle a blade safely. I'll let Cas know."
Unable to stop herself from grinning, Feyre nodded. "He'll be thrilled."
Nova took off at a run through the library doors, and Rhys winnowed directly in front of her, keeping his balance as she slammed into him. Shaking the collision off, Nova looked up with daggers in her eyes.
Rhys spoke in a low, firm voice, "The Library is to be respected. You walk and remain quiet—not silent, but quiet. It's a great honor to be allowed in, and if it can't be respected, you won't be allowed to return."
"Quiet?" Nova asked, using a whisper for a voice as he'd shown her at the table.
Nodding, Rhys smiled, "Yes," he whispered in return, "Quiet."
Nova nodded with somewhat understanding, and as Rhys and Feyre led the way toward a selection of books Nova might find of interest, they paused and looked over their shoulders. In her attempt at being quiet, Nova was tip-toeing across the floor like a sneaky burglar.
Putting a hand to her mouth, Feyre refrained from laughing.
"Quiet," Nova whispered as she tip-toed behind them.
Rhys parted his lips to correct her but sighed and shook his head, "Good job, Nova."
The section they brought her to was not overflowing with picture books; a few were nestled in with longer children's chapter books. If anything, the illustrations might capture her attention for a time. It wasn't a children's section, but Nova still looked up at the floor-to-ceiling shelves in wonder.
"Books!" Nova shouted and then covered her mouth with both hands, eyes wide. She whispered through the slits in her fingers, "Quiet."
Rhys chuckled and took one of the books off the dusty shelf. "This was one my mother read to me. Your grandmother." He sat down on one of the dark leather winged-back chairs, letting Nova scoot in next to him. She'd been slowly letting herself show and receive more affection, and this was one of those times.
Rhys opened the book with an occasional illustration, but Nova was content with listening to her father's silky voice read. While they were occupied, Feyre began gathering books about teaching language. It stung a little to see the books were all geared toward infants and toddlers.
It took longer than she'd have thought, and Feyre returned with an armful as Rhys was almost finished reading the old fable to Nova. Sitting opposite them, she smiled as she listened to the ending.
"That's a beautiful story," Feyre murmured, calmly caressing his mind, and his response curled like smoke inside her. Maybe they'd need another moment to themselves later.
Nova tiredly lifted her head when Rhys stopped reading. He looked down at her with a soft chuckle and asked, "Are you ready to go home?"
"Home."
When they entered the training area, Nova usually ran as fast as her legs could carry her to her obstacle course. Today was different. When they arrived, they found Cassian and Azriel sparring. Using swords, they moved with lethal precision.
The day was warm, starkly contrasting to the temperature the day before. They trained shirtless, and their tattoos suddenly became of interest to Nova.
"Maybe seeing what blades do, she'll be more inclined to train with them," Feyre suggested. She glanced at Nova and found her frowning with a scowl as she watched her uncles fight.
"They're not really fighting, Nova," Rhys chuckled, "They're practicing." A moment later, he tossed his shirt to the side and walked to the center, sword already in hand.
Cas bellowed a laugh as Azriel and Rhys smirked and turned their bodies toward him. He stroked the sweat off his forehead. "Okay, bring it." He lowered his body into a stance. Together, two against one, they made Cassian practice handling two enemies simultaneously.
Feyre smiled, pursing her lips as she watched the muscles move beneath Rhys' taut skin. Shaking herself from the thought, she glanced at Nova and found she was now staring at her arms with the same angry twist of her brow. She observed her momentarily before letting her gaze drift back to Rhys and watched the pants hang a little lower on his hips the more he moved.
Oh, they'd be having a moment later.
"You'll learn to fight with baldes, too, Nova," Feyre said, looking over at the empty space at her side. Turning in a slow circle, she frowned. Where had she gone?
Nova had stared long enough at the swirling tattoos on their bodies. All of them, even when she looked at her mother, she'd noticed the ink that decorated her fair skin. She walked into the art room with purpose, eyes scanning the row of paints.
When she found what she was looking for, she held it up and poured it carefully into a cup. Then, picking up a paintbrush, she swirled the bristles in and dragged the bristles in a loop that trailed from her wrist to her shoulder.
Nova didn't stop there.
Peeling off her shirt, she was left only in her pants, and the bra Feyre had convinced her to wear. She continued painting until she was covered from her torso in swirls of black paint. Avoiding her face, she trailed up to her neck and behind her ear. Frustrated when she couldn't reach far enough of her back, she set the brush down and skipped over to stand in front of the mirror.
Nova grinned at herself and twirled in front of her reflection.
"Nova?" Feyre's voice drifted through the townhouse. When she entered the art room, her brows rose high on her forehead. "Oh…"
Turning, Nova grinned. She held her arms out and said, "Beautiful."
Tears stung Feyre's eyes as she smiled and walked to her. "You are always beautiful, Nova. You did a very nice job," Feyre looked the swirls over and smiled. You have a natural hand for a brush. How about the next time you want to decorate? " She laughed lightly. "I'll get you some paint of your own to use."
"Beautiful." Nova grinned.
"Would you like to show everyone?" Feyre asked, and when Nova tilted her head, she clarified, "Show your father, Azriel, and Cassian. I'm sure they'll be quite flattered."
"Rhys," Nova said, and Feyre's heart slammed through her chest.
"What did you say?" She whispered.
Nova smiled and said, "My Rhys."
Feyre's grin stretched from ear to ear, and she touched the paint on her shoulder. "It seems to be dry." She said, picking up her shirt and offering it to her. "Put your shirt on, and we can go show them."
It took only a moment for Nova to slip it back over her head and follow Feyre to the sun-soaked training arena. The boys were still working their blades, but Az was the target of attack this time.
"Nova has something she'd like to show everyone something," Feyre called to them.
Panting, they lowered their swords and turned. Azriel's eyebrows raised while Cassian's jaw dropped. Rhys grinned at the sight of Nova covered in what looked similar to his own tattoos.
Nova jumped out, eyes sparkling, "Beautiful!"
Sharing a grin, they approached Nova and Feyre with amusement in their eyes. "Hm," Feyre murmured, "I found her in the art room like this. It appears she wants to be just like her uncles and father."
Rhys laughed with delight, sweeping his dark hair back to examine the intricate designs. "I am forever honored," he smiled at Nova. "You are beautiful."
As Nova proudly showed the designs of her arms, Feyre said, "Nova," Nova looked up at her, and Feyre pointed at her mate, "Who is that?"
Nova looked at Rhysand and smiled, "My Rhys."
The smile he wore turned into an expression of awe. His throat bobbed, swallowing back the emotion that dared escape.
With a voice soft as down, he said, "My Nova."
Nova still had her tattoos at dinner.
"We'll need to get her more paint, "Feyre said between bites, "I imagine she'll want to redo them once they wash off ."
A light blush crested the ridge of Rhys' cheeks and chuckled, "I may have already put extra in there…"
Feyre smiled just as a letter appeared in the center of the table. Everyone looked up from their plates and frowned. Feyre and Rhys exchanged looks as the Inner Circle stared at the letter.
"If that's what I think it is," Rhy's voice came as a soft growl. After staring, he reached forward to retrieve the letter from the Spring Court. He silently read the piece over and clenched his jaw.
Nova looked up from stuffing lentils in her pocket- the tension at the table palpable.
"The High Lord of the Spring Court," Rhys restrained his voice with difficulty, "Is requesting that we attend another meeting."
"Another?" Mor asked. "You've just had one."
Rhys glanced up under a dark brow at Feyre. A muscle feathered his jaw. "He's requested all of us."
"All?" Cassian scoffed. "Who does he mean by all."
"He's listed the names of those they want in attendance."
"They," Feyre shook her head, "The other High Lords are requesting this?"
Rhys stroked his jaw with a calming sigh, "I imagine he's twisted a few arms in the process."
"Tell him we're busy." Cassian rolled his eyes.
"And raise more suspicion?" Amren asked.
Feyre shook her head, "They're already suspicious."
Azriel remained silent as he watched Nova stare at Rhys with apprehension.
Mor asked, "Whose names are listed?"
"All, including Nesta," a soft snarl curled Cassian's lip, "Lucien and Elain."
Azriel stiffened.
Feyre ran her fingers across her brows. "Meaning…we either take Nova with us or leave her here alone." She whispered. "He knows…"
"Dammit." Rhys shook his head, staring at the letter.
Cassian gritted his teeth, "That son of a bitch."
"Bitch." Nova repeated.
Cassian cringed and looked at Feyre, "Sorry."
Shaking her head, Feyre couldn't manage a smile as nausea rolled through her stomach. "She's right. Tamlin's a bitch."