Nyx was entirely grateful that Theia didn't have regrets when they awoke the next morning. She had laid in his arms until the sun rose, her small body curled into his. He'd woken before her and took advantage of the silent hour, sitting up and watching her sleep. Her head was on his lower stomach, her leg thrown over his. She was so damn beautiful. Her hair that reminded him of the sweetest chocolate, the small dusting of freckles over her nose.
He still looked at her, even when they'd joined his parents for breakfast. Nyx's father nudged his knee, making his eyes snap to him. Rhysand rose a brow, a knowing smile on his lips. Nyx felt the heat climb up the back of his neck, but he held no shame staring at the female who'd soon be his wife. Theia spoke with Feyre, dressed in one of Nyx's soft shirts and a pair of shorts his mother had lent her. Her hair was a mess having dried while being in his fist the night before, but her face was bright and she looked so happy. Nyx bit down on his bottom lip as he dropped his eyes to his nearly empty plate.
He had things to do today, and Theia would be easily distracted with the painting in the studio. Thankfully, she ran off with Feyre after breakfast without anything more than a quick kiss to his cheek. Nyx went back up to his bedroom to change his clothes. He dressed in something he thought suitable for the events for the day; a closely tailored black jacket with silver threading, matching trousers, and a black buttoned shirt beneath. His shoes shined beneath the sunlight as he stood in front of the river house, anxiety tightening his chest slightly. He hadn't been dressed like this since the last time they'd gone to the Court of Nightmares.
He felt like his father when he wore things like this. It was suitable, though. He needed to show that he wasn't a careless heir. He was the future High Lord, and he would be marrying his High Lady soon enough. Nyx clenched his jaw as he began to walk. He could've winnowed, but he wanted to give himself time to think about what he was doing. With his chin lowered and a dead lilly in his fist.
He heard a few people call out his name, but he paid them no mind as he walked through the streets of Velaris. His eyes only lifted to the southernmost mountain. His throat felt tight as he neared the field at the base, the stem of the dead flower crushed in his fist. It'd been a while since he felt like he wanted to cry, scream, or shatter stone. He wanted to so badly now.
Soft grass whispered beneath his shoes as he made his way down the line. He'd only visited this place twice before. Once with Theia, and once the year after she had left. He'd cried in front of that grave on the year anniversary of Theia leaving him. He'd come back to Velaris just to do it. Now, that grace was covered in moss and weeds, the only one not cared for in this field.
Nyx ran his tongue over his teeth as he dropped to his knee. His eyes scanned the words that had been lost to the elements over the centuries. It was cracked and crumbling. His hand rose to grace a finger over the words 'beloved mother'. It was a lie. Nyx dropped the dead lilly in the tall grass and weeds and settled back on his heel. His eyes lifted to the line of willow trees that danced above the creek beneath the mountain. Danced where no breeze was found.
"Hello, Maia. It's been a while."
The trees stilled, all but one. It waved gently as though the spirit of Theia's mother gave him a warm welcome. His nostrils flared.
"You're still trapped in this land. You never made it to paradise," he murmured, watching a lower branch move. He'd never hated a female as much as he hated Maia for neglecting a child who did everything for her. Even when he thought Theia had abandoned him, he came to this grave to scream at her for not being there when Theia returned.
His elbow rested on his knee as he ran a thumb over the hairs below his bottom lip. The willow stilled; waiting, listening. His eyes fell to the dead flower, curled in on itself. Similar to how Theia had been after Maia died.
"Have you watched her? Have you seen who she has become?" Nyx asked as he glanced back to the willow. It didn't move, not for a long while. He scoffed. "Of course you haven't." She'd never want to see how Theia now thrived without her.
"She's wonderful now. She's strong, brave, the most beautiful female I've ever seen. Theia is the only good thing you have ever done with your life. She is the only reason I am grateful you ever existed. Without you, I wouldn't have my wife."
His eyes narrowed on the willow. It swayed gently, the branches seeming to lower. They stilled again, as though in shock. Nyx grinned, his heart fluttering at the idea of marrying Theia.
"Yeah, I'm going to marry Theia. I'm going to spoil her, take care of her, and love her. I'm going to do everything you never fucking did. She will be my High Lady one day, and you'll never get to see her like that. You'll never get to see her in a beautiful gown, sparkling jewelry, and with more power than you ever dreamed of. That sad and broken child is going to become the High Lady of the Night Court, and she won't think twice about you."
He watched the branches, but they didn't move. He wished it was raining so he could watch the tree weep. Watch Maia weep. Nyx wet his lips and stood, straightening his jacket.
"She mourned you when you didn't deserve it. She cried next to your dead fucking body, and I know you didn't appreciate it. She smiles so much now, and she has my mother. My mother cares for her, talks to her, appreciates her. Theia has so much more now that you're gone."
He cleared his throat, feeling tears prick at his eyes at the thought. Theia had a mother now, and she would be secured one when they marry. She had a father now, and she had Nyx. His eyes fell from the tree that didn't move, straightening the lapels of his jacket.
"Theia deserves so much more than she ever got from you. I'm going to give that to her, I'm going to marry her, and I'm going to show her that she didn't have to fend for herself as a child. She didn't have to, and she doesn't have to now. She is mine, and she was never yours. Theia had always been there for herself and for you, but she can relax now. She won't fight anymore because I will give her everything and more. I just wanted you to know that she will be my wife, and she will be happy. I hope the Mother isn't too kind to your soul. Goodbye, Maia."
His eyes lifted to the willow tree. It swayed slowly, branches drooping, leaves falling. He clenched his jaw and turned, keeping his eyes on the buildings of Velaris. A thought hit him, making his body turn and glare at the tree. The branches still hung low, shaking softly.
"One more thing," he spoke through gritted teeth. His eyes fell to those faded words again. "I'm going to make sure that Theia bears my children. I'm going to speak with the best of healers to heighten her fertility, and I'm going to make sure that she has the chance to be a better mother than you ever were. Together, we will give those children the best lives. They will be happy, they will be healthy, and they will be loved. They will have a childhood for as long as they wish. Theia will be a far better mother than you were to her, and I will make sure I never speak your name to them."
The willow tree stilled and the branches lifted. Nyx took it as a sign that Maia's soul no longer rested within the branches, so he turned and walked back into the city. His fists shook at his side, his teeth grinding. Nyx had wanted to tell Maia that Theia is now his and she will be cared for and loved, but he could never stop seeing her as a monster, not a mother. He couldn't even get the words out without fury lighting the fire behind them.
Nyx once again ignored the people that called to him as he passed the streets. He wanted to go home and hold his fiancé and breath in her scent. His fingers stretched and closed back into a fist. He wanted to kiss Theia, to have her body against his and show her that he will forever be there for her. He'd be her comfort because she deserved to have one. She was his comfort, too. Everything could be wrong in his life, but the moment her sweet hands ran over his hair or skin and her raspy voice spoke his name, everything was gone but her.
Nyx wiped at his eyes as he neared the estate, ridding himself of any evidence of what he had done. He pushed the doors open and walked in, straightening his jacket and aiming for the studio. Before he could, Rhysand walked from the sitting room.
"Nyx," his father called out. Nyx bit back a groan and turned, lifting a brow in question. He desperately wanted to be in Theia's arms. Rhysand was still in lounging clothes, which wasn't a shock. He'd grown fond of them after years of Feyre arguing that gowns were only for public outings when they were supposed to be proper.
"We will be going to the Court of Nightmares tonight. You're welcome to join us, but we will have the family here for dinner beforehand. I expect you and Theia to join us?"
Surprisingly, it was spoken as a question. Nyx had expected him to demand he join them. Dinner was fine, but he wasn't sure Theia would be too privy to going to the Hewn City. It had been their downfall the last time; she had been assaulted. It had changed dramatically since then, but she didn't know that.
"I'm not sure Theia would be fond of participating in the Court of Nightmares tonight, but I will ask," Nyx responded. Rhysand gave a nod but then his eyes dropped to Nyx's attire.
"Why are you dressed?" He asked, crossing his arms. Nyx wanted to cringe at what he had done this morning. Cursing at a dead female wasn't the most appropriate event to have on a calm morning.
"I had things to do this morning. I'll be changing soon."
Rhysand's lips tightened as he looked his son over again. Nyx's hands were sweating, he wanted Theia. More desperately than that, he wanted their future to be known. He wanted to go into the trove of the House of Wind and select the perfect ring for his future wife. Nyx's lips parted, his mind battling between asking the question or not. He wanted to present Theia with a ring sooner rather than later, but the wards would alert Rhysand that he had entered anyway. With a shuddering exhale, Nyx met his father's eyes.
"I'd like your permission to enter the trove. There is something I want to give to Theia."
Rhysand's eyes widened slightly, his thrumming fingers on his arm stilling. Nyx thought he'd vomit right here before his father even had the chance to speak. He had no reason to be afraid of him, but he was in this moment. It was certainly the biggest decision he has made in his life, and it depended on either Rhysand or Feyre's blessing.
"And what, pray tell me, do you wish to retrieve from the trove?"