Nadir’s gaze cut to Dorian. “Lovi Piathos,” he answered. “And you must be the little prince that the Venari King has declared to be worthy of the high crown.”
Aydra snorted, and she heard the same come from Lex behind her.
A flash of blue flame caught Aydra’s eye beside her, and her laughter ceased. She leaned closer to her brother, turning her head so that only he could hear. “You dare threaten our guests?” Aydra whispered.
“I should have all of you burned for mockery,” he hissed back.
“It is not a problem of ours if you’ve made yourself a laughing stock outside these walls,” she argued.
He opened his mouth to say more, but the doors opening once more made both their voices cease. Intense silence filled the room, and thunder clapped outside.
A woman of dark ebony skin pulled a navy hood off her head. Draven was stood beside her, and he untied the cloak around her neck and threw it into one of the Belwark’s hands.
The woman was small, more petite than Nyssa. She barely reached Draven’s pectoral muscles. Golden flecks danced in her tightly wound textured black curls. Aydra could see the streaks of gold embedded in her burnet skin like sparkling tattoos on dark flesh. She wore a black dress that Aydra strained to see, as though smoke shrouded around her skin, and it curled as she walked.
The Honest parted ways and took a step back as Draven escorted her forward.
This was the Nitesh. Haerland’s favored Martyr daughter of this Age. She was the only being with direct contact with their mother land, and as such was the most powerful sorceress in all of Haerland.
Aydra felt her stomach knot as the woman’s golden eyes met hers, and she suddenly felt a nervousness radiate through her body.
Draven released the Nitesh’s arm at the bottom of the steps, and as the woman strode up them, Aydra quickly bowed her head. She saw Nyssa and Dorian do the same from the corners of her eyes, but Rhaif did not.
She wanted to punch him.
Cold hands on her own diverted her attention. “Rise, Sun child,” came the thick foreign accent she hadn’t expected.
Her head rose, and she met the stark gaze of the Nitesh before her, causing her words to catch in her throat. A faint smile rose in the Nitesh’s eyes, and Aydra watched the woman’s full lips twist upwards.
“A number of great friends you have in the south,” the Nitesh continued. “Respect of one named such a Queen.”
Aydra’s chest swelled, and she looked past the Nitesh toward Draven, who was standing with his hands behind his back, and he gave her a quiet wink. Nadir stood at Draven’s side with a wide grin spread over his face.
“Nitesh, I wish to thank you for—”
Rhaif’s voice was cut short as the Nitesh turned so quickly that Aydra didn’t see her move. “Speak not unless you are spoken to, Fire child,” she hissed.
Rhaif’s nostrils flared, and for a swift moment, Aydra thought the flames might rise on his chest. But they didn’t, and instead, he did something she did not think he would ever do.
He bowed.
The doors once more opened, and behind them were Balandria and an older man Aydra recognized immediately.
Lovi Piathos.
His staff pressed into the stone as he walked, and the noise of it echoed in the still room. Balandria paused beside Draven and allowed Lovi to continue, where he met the Nitesh at the bottom of the steps.
“Beautiful as ever, my love,” Lovi said in his shaking voice. His eyes darted up towards Aydra then, and he grinned in her direction.
“I think that’s enough pompous grander for today,” Aydra said as she started to make her way down the steps. “Don’t you think, Grand?”
Lovi laughed his high-pitched chortle as she swept her arms around his feeble body and hugged him. “Yes, quite enough,” he told her. “We be frozen statues if lasted much longer.”
Aydra pulled back and held his hands a moment. “Belwarks,” she began, looking around the room. “You’ll show our guests to their chambers so they can take rest before the celebration tonight.”
“Have the Blackhands arrived?” Nadir asked.
Aydra nodded. “This morning.”
