The Heir of Night

2

"I'll wait, then. How about a cup of tea?" Theia gave a short nod and turned, pouring the already steeped herbal tea into a cup. She placed it in front of the male and pushed the jar of honey toward him. He gave a grateful hum and began spooning the honey into his steaming cup.

"What's your name?"

His question caught her off guard. It wasn't often any of the warriors cared to speak to a worker in the village, let alone learn about them.

"Theia."

His blue eyes shot to her, his smile softening. "I'm Nyx."

"Nice to meet you, Nyx. Feel free to take a seat over by the window while you wait," Theia suggested, sending him a quick grin before turning her eyes to the door. No one else walked in. She fought the urge to roll her eyes when Nyx did not go sit, nor did another customer walk in to steal her own attention.

"You don't train?" Another question, one she didn't want to answer. When his eyes stayed on her, even as he sipped the tea, she let out a sigh.

"No."

"Why?"

"Nyx, do you want the life story of every one you meet?" He grinned at her, a stunning view in the early morning. Theia may hate the training warriors, but she had eyes, she couldn't help but notice beauty in a world she found so ugly. She also couldn't help but notice how different this one seemed in comparison to the others she often saw. Theia wasn't like her love-stricken peers in the village; she didn't fall hopelessly in love with every handsome male that passed through the streets and declare that he was not like the other brutes. However, this male, Nyx, was different even from the camp lords.

They often were dressed in finer clothing, had cleaner skin, and had up-to-date haircuts, but Nyx was even more than that. On his day without training, he was dressed in a finely made coat made of a black fabric and stitched with silver. She didn't see below his waist behind the counter, but she was sure his pants and shoes held the same value. His skin was clear of dirt, his hair cleanly cut, and his jaw finely shaped with trimmed scruff. Her eyes narrowed at her discovery.

"Only the ones I find interesting," Nyx replied, lifting a brow as he sipped his tea. Theia nearly snorted.

"Interesting? I find you interesting, Nyx. Those clothes, they weren't made in Windhaven, were they?" Theia wasn't a thief of any sort, but she was sure his shoes alone would feed her and her mother for months. His smile dropped at that and he cleared his throat. Theia's smile grew.

"No, they weren't. I reside in another part of the Court," he spoke with a thick voice. Theia hummed, lips thinning as she grinned.

"And do you reside in the wealthy City that our High Lord likes to keep a secret?"

Nyx's eyes widened, his throat bobbing. Before he had the chance to answer, the door opened. Three more customers walked in, ordering, paying, and then slathering butter and honey onto their bread and pastries. When they finally left, Theia turned back to Nyx. She rose her brow in a question.

"I will say that I do live in a part of the Court that thrives more than Windhaven."

"That's not exactly an answer, is it?" Theia enjoyed this game, even if she was the only player. She wanted this wealthy male to realize just how wrong the High Lord was to leave people like her to feed a dying mother. This male looked like he ate well, even at the camps, so why could she not be given the same benefits?

"I'm guessing you are native to Windhaven?" Diversion.

"I am, Nyx. Do my torn clothes give that away? Or maybe the fact that I not only work here, but at the tavern you visited last night?" Maybe she was pointing out too much, but the flush on his neck and cheeks, as well as the way his eyes fell to his now empty cup, made her want to laugh.

"Pastries!" Calliope screamed from the kitchen, slamming her tray down on the counter repeatedly.

"Hell, Calli! I can hear you when you scream at me!" Theia may have shouted a bit too harshly, seeing how Nyx flinched at her tone, but she shot him a grin and skipped into the kitchen. She took the hot tray with a smile and returned to the storefront. Her brows furrowed when she realized that Nyx was no longer at the counter, nor was he at the tables. Instead, his empty cup along with far more money than a pastry or a cup of tea was worth were abandoned on the wooden counter.

Theia swallowed and placed the pastries on display. With slight hesitation, she reached forward and grabbed the coins, slipping them into the pocket of her apron. The amount Nyx left was enough to fill her and Maia's stomachs for months, with enough to spare for an entire new outfit. Theia felt the weight of his money in her pocket for the rest of her shift.

When the bakery closed and Theia replaced her apron on the hook and pulled on her coat. She pressed a kiss to Calli's head before leaving the bakery. The clouds cleared enough to let the apricot light of the sunset spread across the village. Theia basked in the warmth of its rays as she trudged through the back alleys to the tavern. She wasn't willing to walk along the main streets and be tempted by the market. The money clanking together in her pocket would be thrown back to Nyx as soon as she saw him.

Her spiel about the wealth he held was not to beg for money. She simply wanted him to realize that wherever he comes from, he was far more privileged than her or anyone local to these mountains. Being poor was not her favorite thing, but being pitied was far worse. Teeth grinding, Theia threw open the tavern door and ripped off her coat. She tucked the money into the pockets of her wool pants and slid behind a bush Elena to begin her work.

"Ale!"
"Whiskey, ma'am!"
"Are you deaf? Over here!"

Theia certainly wasn't in the mood to be screamed at by drunken warriors. As stupid as it was, she snapped right back. Her face was settled into a permanent grimace and she shot daggers at every male who told her to smile.

"If you want the damned ale, be fucking polite!" Theia retorted when a male slammed his fist on the counter and repeated his order for the fifth time. He called her a name under his breath and turned back to his comrade. Theia slammed his ale onto the counter, ensuring the foam splattered on him, and turned to the next customer.

She should've known, from the silent space beside that demanding male, that the most polite warrior she had ever met was waiting to place his order.

"Nyx," Theia grinned, reaching into her pocket and curling her fingers around the cool coins.

"Theia," he acknowledged her with a dip of his chin. She watched his large fingers scratch at the scruff on his jaw as he looked over the menu, pondering the two options. "I'd enjoy a glass of whiskey, please."

"Sure thing." She gathered the shattered ice into a glass and poured the amber liquid over top. When she placed it in front of him, Nyx began to dig into his finely embroidered pocket.

"You've already paid, here's your change." She pulled out the handful of coins and plucked a silver one from the center. With a wide grin, she dropped his money onto the counter, pocketed the silver coin, and turned to the next customer.