62

875 32 2
                                    

Theia hadn't left her bedroom for the rest of the day. Nyx had left to speak with Feyre about the upcoming gathering of the entire family, learning that they wouldn't be there until the evening. Theia refused to run into Rhysand at any moment, so she stayed to her bedroom, besides slipping down the hall to the bathing chamber.

The sun was falling behind the mountain ridge, and Nyx had slipped from the bedroom to check on the arrival of his family. Theia had decided to take that time to bathe and ready herself. It was the night her fate would be decided; if she would be thrown to the wolves or persuade this family to decide if their loved one was only a facade.

She stood in the mirror, dressed in thick pants and a sweater in preparation for Rhysand demanding she leave the estate tonight. Theia had slept in the snow for years, she could do it again. She ran a brush through her hair, studying herself. If tonight she became who she had once been, it wouldn't feel the same.

Theia decided then that she would not feel like the quiet female that strode through the outskirts of the village to avoid confrontation, or work mindlessly for someone who didn't care for her. If she found herself on the streets tonight, her head would be held high, her heart full, her mind strong. She would be a female that has experienced love, a sliver of family, and a lifetime of hurt.

Her eyes focused on her face, rather than watching the brush move through strands of her hair. Theia hardly recognized herself anymore. She had lost count of the time she'd spent in Velaris, but a new female stared back. It was rare that she gave herself more than a glance, but it was nearly terrifying to truly look at herself.

Her once hollowed cheeks were fuller, the skin less gaunt. She didn't hold the shadows of her past beneath her eyes, instead crinkled skin along their edges that showed when she smiled. Those eyes... There was more life within them than she had ever seen before. No longer mute brown, but endless colors that bled into a golden hue. A flush was on her cheeks from the heat of the bath she had taken, and speckles of darker skin were scattered across the bridge of her nose.

Theia's full, no longer chapped lips lifted into a small smile as she watched herself. She was no longer the timid child that drug herself across the ground to care for her careless mother. She was a female, strong willed and beautiful, fighting for a better future for herself and others.

Her eyes fell back to the brush, now stilled in the hair at her collarbone. The hand that curled around the handle was no longer skeletal and haggard. Her eyes then fell to her shirt. Theia slowly sat the brush on the counter and lifted the hem of her shirt. The stomach beneath was well fed, beautiful. No longer the picture of starvation and desperation, but soft and loved. Her eyes stung with tears.

Theia had never loved her appearance; she never had the time to. Now, as she turned to the side and peered at the way her stomach pressed against the waist of her pants, rolled as she slouched, she fell in love. It wasn't the terrifying beauty of loving Nyx, but a calm and wonderful sensation. No, she was no longer the child that was dragged into this city months ago. Theia was a female that had more purpose than ever before.

She had been so focused on her new realization, Theia didn't notice Nyx walking into the room. Not until a hand laid over hers on her stomach and his lips pressed to her hair.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. Theia's eyes lifted to his in the reflection, tears brimming.

"I feel like it," she whispered back. Nyx grinned in a way that emanated pride. He kissed her head again before he spoke.

"They're waiting in the sitting room."

All joy she had felt moments before drained at those words. Theia sighed and turned to Nyx, frowning slightly as he pressed soft lips to the tip of her nose. He offered a gentle smile as he stepped back and turned, giving her room to walk past him. Theia brushed her hands over her pants and began her walk to the sitting room.

The Heir of NightWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu