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Theia's hands were trembling in anticipation when Elena locked the tavern door. They shared a look before Elena began to walk toward the northern side of the village. Theia trailed behind, subconsciously checking behind them after each crossroad. Elena turned up a small dirt path, slowing for Theia to reach her side.

"They say the High Lord lived here with his mother, that she didn't want her son to live through the camp alone. She became a seamstress in the village while he trained. Some have heard that his General and Spymaster both lived with him and his mother at one time," Elena explained. Her words drew Theia's gaze to her friend.

Elena was stunning, a magnet for the male's eyes in the tavern. She was tall and well muscled, looking everything like a warrior. Theia was shocked to find out that Elena was never trained in the camps but occasionally trained by older brothers who didn't trust the males in the camps to do it instead. Theia was grateful to know there were males that didn't share the wide outlook on females.

"There's smoke in the chimney," Elena spoke, forcing Theia to look on the hill above them. A log home, similarly built to her own but double- maybe triple the size, sat atop a collection of boulders along the tree line. Indeed, smoke rolled from the chimney and blended into the thick clouds that promised snowfall. Firelight glowed in the largest window on the main floor, as well as a small window in the upper level.

"Mama," Theia breathed out. Her feet moved quicker at the thought of seeing her mother, ensuring she was safe with the heir.

"Do you want me to join you?" Elena asked as they climbed the steps on the porch. Theia turned, knuckles inches from the wooden door. She didn't want Elena to witness the state of her mother, but perhaps she didn't want to face Nyx alone. With a swallow, she parted her lips to speak.

Before Theia could form the words, the large door creaked open. "I was wondering when you'd come here."

The heir, clad in sleeping clothes that were still finer than anything Theia had ever touched, stood in the threshold. Her eyes trailed over him, words forgotten on her tongue. His hair was tousled, as though he had been running his fingers through it. The sheen of moonlight lit his tanned skin. Theia couldn't help but feel as though the night itself kissed upon him like a lost lover, beauty in every way. Heir of the Night, indeed.

"Heir," Elena spoke lowly, bending her knees in a half-curtsy, half-bow. Theia straightened, staring at her friend as though she had lost her head. Was she meant to do that?

"No need. I'm just Nyx here," he spoke, a grin teasing his lips. Theia turned her eyes to him again. "Please, come in. Both of you."

Theia stepped aside, willing Elena to enter the home first. She followed the female. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her coat as she observed the sitting room. A fire roared in the hearth, a leather couch with matching arm chairs sat before it. Fur blankets were thrown haphazardly over the backs of each of them. Theia was observing the rug when she noticed Elena was pulling off her boots. With a breath of frustration, Theia followed suit.

"Theia, your mother is up the stairs and to the left. Her room is beside the bathing chamber," Nyx explained as he padded in socked feet to the kitchen. Elena followed him, certainly comfortable in the casual presence of near royalty. Theia clenched her jaw and began climbing the staircase. There was a short corridor on the landing, a door to the center, and two on either side of the hall. She turned to the left, staring at the tall door.

She knocked once before stepping in, expecting the stench of urine and stale sweat. Instead, she was greeted by floral oils and freshly laundered sheets. "Mama?"

There she was, as still as death. Maia laid on her side in the bed, her arms extended over the edge as she continued to knit her long blanket. Perhaps a night of wealth didn't change a person completely. Theia rounded the four poster and kneeled beside her mother, fingers curling in the soft sheets.

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