Nascha was unable to wipe the blush from her cheeks or slow the rapid beating of her heart as she and Fenrys approached the dining room. Voices already came from inside. At first, she had thought she wouldn't care what they all thought if they realized what had happened. Now, she found herself almost anxious over the matter.
What would they say? She knew most of them didn't like her. Would they be angry with Fenrys for what had happened? Would they dislike him on her behalf? Would they think she was trying to gain leverage over them through him? Would they think she was using him?
Nascha tugged on the end of her braid, starlight skittering across her skin. She didn't regret what had happened. She wished they'd had longer so they could have taken their time, but that was all. She had enjoyed every minute of it. It was just that...now she was confused. What did it mean for them? Would they go on as they had been? Was it just another fling they wouldn't speak of?
Fenrys squeezed her hand, catching her attention. "You look nervous. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just..." Nascha bit her lip, peering into the dining room. "Do you think they'll know?"
"There is not a doubt in my mind that Rowan figured it out," Fenrys huffed. Nascha swallowed hard. "Do you not want them to know?"
"I don't want them to treat us differently because of it. Most of them hate me. Will they dislike you because of me?"
Fenrys knit his brows. "They don't hate you." Voices approached from behind them. Nascha recognized Ren, Darrow, and Evangeline. Fenrys drew her into an alcove, hidden behind a set of curtains. He lowered his voice as he continued. "They don't hate you. I know we haven't been the most welcoming towards you, but consider the circumstances. And," he cocked his head, "consider how you were behaving up until a few weeks ago."
Nascha crossed her arms with a frown. "You know exactly why I was acting that way. I can do it again, if you like."
"I'd rather you didn't. I like this version of you much better than the one who said she hated me every five minutes." He tweaked her chin with a laugh.
"Sometimes I still hate you." Nascha sighed, glancing between the curtains. Ren, Darrow, and Evangeline had disappeared.
"They won't treat us any differently just because we've kissed each other a few times."
"We've done more than that." Nascha pursed her lips, thinking. "I don't want them to know yet, unless they figure it out on their own. Not until we know what all of this means."
"What all of this means," he echoed. "What do you want it to mean, Nascha?"
Her stomach flipped. "I don't know, and I don't have time to figure it out right now."
He gave a slow nod. "We'll discuss it later then. If the others ask any questions, we don't have to tell them anything."
"All right."
Fenrys smiled, taking her hand. "Now, let's go. I really will start getting cranky if I don't eat soon. You have left me starving."
The way his gaze lingered on her lips told her that he wasn't just starved for food. Nascha smirked and lifted her chin as they entered the dining room. Her confidence faltered, noticing the setup. There was a vacant seat at Aelin's left side, and another one between Vaughan and Lorcan. They were on opposite ends of the table.
Fenrys bristled, eyeing the seat that was obviously meant for her. "Sit between Lysandra and Aelin," he murmured. "You should be close to the Queen. You are Terrasen's guest and an Heir to a House, after all. Remind her of that." He broke away and took the seat between Vaughan and Lorcan before she could reply.
Nascha joined Aelin and Lysandra, as Fenrys had said. She didn't miss the look of surprise on Darrow's face. Ren and Vaughan seemed amused. Rowan, Lorcan, and Aedion all wore looks of suspicion. Lysandra and Evangeline smiled as Nascha sat down. Elide smiled too, sitting across from her.
Servants entered and began to fill their plates with food. Voices and the clatter of silverware soon filled the air. "I told Aelin you weren't that much taller than her," Lysandra said, gesturing to Nascha's outfit. "But she swore her clothes wouldn't fit you."
"I was wrong," Aelin answered, rolling her eyes.
"They fit well enough," Nascha said. "Thank you for letting me borrow them." Before Aelin could reply, she turned to Lysandra's ward. "How are you, Evangeline?"
"I'm fine," the young girl answered. "Darrow is teaching me how to ride a horse by myself."
"Maybe when you've mastered it, you can teach me."
Evangeline's citrine eyes widened. "You don't know how to ride? But you're so old!"
Fenrys snorted and a small smile crossed Vaughan's lips. Nascha narrowed her eyes, studying the male. "Now look who's old," he teased, holding her gaze.
She rolled her eyes and brought her attention back to Evangeline. "I'm only twenty-five, but no, I never learned to ride. Fenrys tried to show me, but he wasn't a very good teacher."
"You're not a good listener," Fenrys retorted.
Rowan, Lorcan, and Vaughan gave rough laughs. "You never could listen yourself," Vaughan pointed out.
"I didn't listen on purpose."
"Nascha is probably purposefully not listening to you," Aedion chuckled.
Fenrys caught her eye. "She's picky about when she wants to listen to me. I think she suffers from selective hearing."
"I think that must be what you're suffering from too, Fireheart." Rowan smirked at Aelin. She grunted in disgust, flinging a forkful of mashed potatoes at him. A gust of wind hurled the food into Lorcan's lap.
"Very funny," he muttered. Elide attempted to hide her laugh, to no avail.
Nascha smiled to herself. It had been a long time since she'd been around a group who acted this way. The Court hadn't been this at ease since she arrived. It was nice. Nascha sipped her wine and glanced out the window. Rain still poured from the sky and there were a few flashes of lightning, followed by claps of thunder.
"Do you like storms?" Aelin asked, noticing her gaze.
"Yes," Nascha replied, not looking at her. "I love the energy that surrounds them. You can tell if a storm will be violent or gentle just by the feel of the air. The air feels more electric when a storm is going to be bad, and staticky when the storm will be gentle."
"Were there a lot of storms in Arcelia?"
"During late spring and almost all summer." A smile tugged at her lips. "Van used to tell me that thunder was just the twang of Deanna's bowstring as she hunted."
"Deanna was a bitch," Aelin said plainly. "She possessed me once. She was going to use my power to destroy Skull's Bay and Rolfe's fleet. He's the..."
"Pirate Lord. I've heard the stories," Nascha interrupted. "But you said 'was'. Deanna was a bitch. What do you mean was?"
Aelin blinked in momentary confusion. "I suppose that part of the story never did make it beyond the ears of my Court and our allies." She dug her fork into a chunk of meat. "The gods are dead." Nascha tilted her head, waiting for the Queen to continue.
"The gods and goddesses promised to take Erawan, one of the Valg Kings, his armies, and all of his kind out of our world and back into the Valg realm, in exchange for being returned to their own world as well. Instead, they broke their promise, and Deanna destroyed the last of Elena Galathynius' spirit. I opened a Wyrdgate into a hellscape within the catacombs of Rifthold and let them meet their end. All of them."
"That's the very brief version of what happened," Rowan added.
Nascha glanced at Fenrys across the table. "I'll tell you later," he called. She nodded and faced Aelin once more.
"It would be best if you keep that knowledge to yourself once you know the whole story." Nascha arched an eyebrow. "The people need something to believe in," Aelin pointed out. "Even if that something happens to be dead gods who barely cared about them. If the gods bring them hope and comfort, who are we to take that from them? I doubt they would believe us anyway."
Nascha glanced out the window again as thunder rumbled overhead. "The old gods might be dead, but who's to say there aren't new gods or other gods out there? Ones who do care? Perhaps there is one sending this storm, refreshing the world with the rain and reminding us of their power with the thunder."
"Maybe," Aelin agreed, "but it will take more than rain and thunder to make me fall on my knees and worship them." Thunder boomed again, as if defying Aelin. Nascha resumed eating, letting herself relax while conversations carried on around her.
◦ ~ ❘ ☼ ❘ ~ ◦
The storm went on well into the evening and the rain and thunder were eventually accompanied by hail. Aelin finally insisted that everyone remain at the palace until the storm cleared. Fenrys had jokingly remarked that Nascha's storm god was angry with her and was making the storm worse to prove a point. Aelin merely rolled her eyes, but he'd caught her standing near a window later, studying the clouds intensely. Part of him wondered if perhaps his Queen missed having something to believe in herself.
Fenrys passed by the library, on his way upstairs to prepare for bed. He'd been giving Nascha some time alone to shower and think. He didn't trust himself not to give into his raging instincts and claim her again if he had the chance. He could tell Nascha was confused by what was happening. He was too, but he thought it made more sense to him than it did to her. He would give her as much space as he could, despite the way his instincts chafed at him.
Fenrys paused, hearing a sound from behind the partially closed library doors. He poked his head around the corner and spotted Aelin. She wore a plain tank top and a pair of shorts. Her blonde hair was disheveled and there was a hollow look in her eyes as she stared out the window.
Fenrys rapped his knuckles on the door before entering. Aelin barely glanced at him. He blinked three times. Are you all right?
She blinked twice. No.
Fenrys joined her on the window seat. Aelin tucked her legs beneath herself to make room for him. He blinked four times. I am with you.
"I was dreaming," she murmured. "It wasn't a nightmare, but...it wasn't a good dream. I didn't want to wake Rowan."
"What was it about?"
Her voice fell to a whisper. "Sam."
Fenrys' shoulders slumped, recognizing the look of pain that flooded her features. He'd shared that look when Seraphina died. Aelin had told him about Sam Cortland once. He was the first man Aelin had loved, back when she was an assassin and Arobynn Hamel's protégée. Aelin had bought freedom for both of them, and they were planning to leave Rifthold together. They agreed to take one last job before leaving, not knowing that the job would be their undoing.
Aelin had told Fenrys that Arobynn set them up. Sam had been caught by one of their targets, Rourke Farran. He'd been brutally tortured and killed, and Arobynn had used his death and Aelin's lust for revenge to lure her into a trap. That was how she wound up in the Salt Mines of Endovier.
Fenrys watched Aelin silently, then shifted into his wolf and rested his head in her lap. She gave him a small smile and stroked his fur. "I dreamed that he was lost. Trapped between life and death. Unable to pass on into the Afterlife because there was no god to guide him there. Now, I can't stop wondering if...if I destroyed the Afterlife when I destroyed the gods. If I destroyed what little might have been left of Sam. What might have been left of my family. My other lost friends. Yours too."
Fenrys shifted back into himself at once. "I don't believe that for a moment, and neither should you. Belief in the Afterlife existed long before the gods did. I think souls can find their own way there. Besides, we all have loved ones there to help guide us if we lose our way."
Aelin barely dipped her chin. "By the way, I invited Rayan and Eliora to the Midsummer's Eve ball. They haven't responded yet."
"So Nascha and I probably shouldn't attend?"
"No, I want you to come. You'll just have to be alert in case they arrive."
Fenrys nodded. "It's still a few weeks away. Tell me if they respond."
"I will." Aelin looked away, falling silent. Fenrys touched her shoulder gently before leaving the library. She remained in the window seat, watching the storm progress.