All Things Wild and Beautiful

8. Undesirable Terms

The artwork above is not mine.

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A small amount of anxiety gripped Nascha's mind as they rode into Orynth, late the next afternoon. She was situated behind Lorcan, much to her dismay. Vaughan had left the party just outside the city. She'd seen Fenrys watch him go, a hint of concern in his onyx wolf eyes.

He and Lysandra were now in their usual forms. Fenrys rode the horse that Vaughan had left behind, while Lysandra sat behind Aedion. Their quiet laughter and whispered words had led Nascha to realize something she'd previously missed. They were lovers. Married, in fact, judging by the matching rings they wore.

She didn't know how she'd missed it. Nascha had spent at least ten minutes pondering that. She finally decided that it was because she hadn't witnessed them interacting very much, and their scents were mixed with their companions', making them a little less conspicuous.

Nascha attempted to stifle her anxiety as the Palace of Orynth came into view. It was just as beautiful as she remembered. The walls of the white marble structure were lined by stained glass windows, depicting many ancient stories, people of importance, and former kings and queens. Opal stones were embedded in the walls of the towers that rose above the palace, shimmering like fire in the afternoon sunlight.

An older man was waiting in the courtyard when they arrived, accompanied by a young girl. The girl was bouncing happily, and waved as soon as Aedion and Lysandra rode into view. Stable hands approached to tend to their horses. Rowan dismounted and rested a hand on the hilt of his sword as Nascha slid off Lorcan's horse.

Fenrys joined them shortly, while Lysandra and Aedion hurried over to the girl. Aedion picked her up and Lysandra tenderly adjusted a few of her coppery golden curls. "Who is that?" Nascha asked.

"Evangeline, Lysandra's adopted daughter and Lord Darrow's heir," Fenrys replied.

Darrow. Nascha studied the older man, now recognizing him. I wonder if Lord Murtaugh is still alive too. He must be ancient by now. He was old when my family still lived in Arcelia.

"Let's go," Rowan said, nudging Nascha forward. "If you have an ounce of sense in your head, you'll address the Queen with respect when you meet her," he added in a low whisper as they entered the palace.

"Not to worry, your Highness," she sneered. "Aelin Galathynius has my respect, but I'm sorry to say that you do not. It's a wonder the Queen has such a birdbrained male for a mate."

Someone snorted. Rowan's head whipped around and Nascha followed his gaze. Lorcan only had an air of anticipation and wariness around him. Fenrys however, was staring at the vaulted ceiling, looking a little too innocent. Nascha frowned. The last thing she wanted to do was amuse the male who'd given her a brutal scar and an occasional limp. She spotted Aedion, Lysandra, Evangeline, and Darrow following further behind.

They reached a vast set of intricately carved oak doors. Guards stood at attention on either side of it. A footman appeared and pushed the doors open, revealing the magnificent throne room. Nascha's gaze was instantly drawn to the Fae female upon the throne.

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius sat with her chin propped up in her hand. Her legs were crossed and she slouched to one side, a bored expression plastered on her face. She was dressed in a dark green tunic and a pair of pants. Her long blonde hair was loose and adorned by a crown. That was the only symbol of power she wore.

Lorcan and Fenrys fell in place beside Nascha when Rowan left to join his wife. Aelin's lips tilted up in a smile. She touched Rowan's hand as he leaned down, kissing her softly. She smoothed silver hair from the tattooed side of his face.