In the effort to let some distance settle between herself and Hollis, Nova woke earlier, ate breakfast before anyone else, and arrived at the training arena as soon as she was finished. She didn't visit the stables nor did she search for him in the library or parlor. Instead, after she'd finished her morning session, she returned to her room and settled into the window seat and delved into the collection of books Helion had provided.
Though, she was sure Hollis had more hope than she did of finding something. If Helion hadn't, what hope was there for them to? He likely was just giving them something to stay productive. The poem, or was it a riddle? Either way, what Nova had read from the parchment in her vision had been written by her fathers hand and sent out to all the Courts.
None returned with a reply.
She didn't know if they were upset with them, for refusing their efforts, or if they, too, were lost.
A knock at the door pulled Nova from her page, where too many words had been scrunched into one paragraph. Blinking the blur from her vision, her mother stepped through and smiled.
"We missed you at breakfast."
Nova nodded, smiling tightly. "I wanted to get an early start."
As she took a seat on the chair opposite her, she nodded, "We discussed repairing the townhouse."
"Hm," Nova turned another leaf in her books, "what's the point of that? If there won't be any Courts soon, anyway?"
"Nova."
Swiftly looking up, Nova wasn't sure there'd been a time her mother had wielded a tone as severe as the one she'd just used. Perhaps when she was younger, when she'd done something reckless.
Feyre leaned forward and clasped her fingers on the table, "Something we will not do is lose our hope. No matter how bleak the situation or how helpless we feel, we must always look ahead. Even if it seems nothing awaits us on the other side. Moving forward is never a waste of time."
It took Nova a moment to regain her ability to speak, but she finally nodded and said, "Alright…"
Pursing her lips, Feyre nodded, "We'll be leaving soon if you'd like to join." Standing to her feet, she left.
With a soft thud, she closed the book and set it on the table. She supposed a little break wouldn't be terrible.
On the stairs, she couldn't help but smile as the sound of Eira's voice, which traveled happily down the hall. She gushed to Ana about the fox Nova had given her the night before. Some had already left for Velaris, but her parents stood in the foyer, waiting for her.
Smiling, Rhys arched a brow at her, "Ready?"
"Ready," she stepped up and took his extended hand. "There was a lot of debris when I went with Bran. Won't you be able to use magic for much of it?"
"All magic has its limits, even mine. Some we'll be able to reconstruct, so most of what we'll need to do today is clean everything out. A blank canvas to work with, so to speak."
Taking her mother's hand, a whirl of magic later, they arrived in the center foyer of the townhouse. Already at work with scraping walls and hauling full-armed loads of debris out of the building were Az and Cas, working from the rafters above, and all of Nova's friends, including Hollis.
Looking up from his push broom, Hollis beamed and parted his lips, but before he could greet her, she offered a polite smile and turned to the sound of Mor's voice.
"We could use some help over here!" Her aunt said as she and Amren carried bags of scorched wood down the stairs. "Feyre," she stopped just before them, "we didn't want to touch your gallery or your study…"
Nova didn't miss the sudden pang of hurt on her mother's face or the way her father squeezed her hip. Her gaze flitted to where her art room was, and she swallowed dryly.
"I suppose I should see what survived." She murmured.
"I can work on the study, it's just upstairs, isn't it?"
Smiling softly, Feyre took her wrist and lightly squeezed. "Turn left at the end of the hall and the last door on the right."
Without another word, Nova took to the stairs and picked her way down the hall to the study. Inside, much like the rest of the building, it was covered in blackened soot, with an acrid odor that strangely resembled the scent of rotten fish. The tarnished rugs on the floor were so damaged that Nova wasn't sure what design they once embellished. Rolling each rug into a cylinder, she set them against the wall near the door and walked to the couch, where she began removing crusty cushions.
"Hey," Hollis smiled as he stepped through the door frame.
Glancing over her shoulder, Nova nodded, "Hey." Then turned back to the cushions.
"Need any help?"
Looking back at him again, she reminded herself, politely distant. They were both on the same page; they'd discussed that, and they just had to remember what that page looked like.
"Sure, thanks," Nova nodded to the rolls of rugs, "those are ready to go downstairs if you wouldn't mind taking them."
Without hesitation, Hollis reached for the rugs and pulled them up onto his shoulder. Woah, they were heavier than he thought they'd be, but no way was he going to drop them. Not in front of her. Settling his eyes on her, he watched her stack cushions into piles before kneeling to break apart the bottom supports of the couch to carry the pieces down more easily.
"I missed you at breakfast." He offered, but Nova didn't look his way.
"Yeah," she said, lying down on her back to look under the couch, "I wanted to get an early start." She said, repeating herself from earlier.
Hollis nodded, watching her a moment longer, "I'll come back up to get the cushions…"
"Okay."
Turning to leave, he hesitated. Something felt…off. He couldn't quite place the feeling, nor did he have a reason for it, but he couldn't shake it. "They were talking about going to Rita's later if you wanted to go."
"Oh, that sounds good, I'll be there," Nova nodded approvingly, glanced at him, and went back to work.
Hollis forced a small smile and left the room. He was overthinking it. She was busy, and he was distracting her. She wasn't upset with him, of course not. Still, he anxiously tapped his fingers against the rugs as he descended the stairs to the broken pile of stuff that Rhysand was winnowing away.
"Everything okay?" Ansel asked, noting his worried expression as he put something warped and unrecognizable into the pile.
Hollis smiled and nodded, "Of course." He said, dropping his rugs in, and retreated up the stairs.
In the study, Nova had finished demolishing the couches and chairs. She pushed the debris into the hallway for Hollis to have easier access to take down in increments while she moved to the desk. She wished this piece of furniture could be revived, but while her father could probably make it look nice, it smelled foul. Jiggling the drawer, she pulled it open with a smile. At least some things had survived, like the metal box that resided inside the drawer.
Pulling the rectangle out, she set it on top of the desk, along with other items. The feathers to the quills were damaged, but not all of the ink wells had shattered. Would it still be a good idea to use it? She popped the cork, took a sniff, and wrinkled her nose. Setting the glass to the side, she pulled at the edges of the box and lifted with a soft hiss of release. Inside was a neat row of envelopes, and at first, she assumed they would contain information for the Night Court. Perhaps finance of some sort, as she'd been told her mother was well-adversed with handling the budget for Velaris.
Nova pulled one from the front of the row, but paused as she stared at the name neatly written on the front—her name. Furrowing her brow, she wanted nothing more than to open it and see what it held, but it wasn't something she could do in good conscience.
"Find something?" Hollis asked from the door, a cushion wedged under each arm.
Returning the envelope, Nova quickly closed the lid."No."
He raised his brows and nodded slowly, "Oh…sorry." Had he interrupted something?
"I'll be back," Nova said. She walked past him, box in hand, and arrived in her mother's art room.
Almost every canvas had been eaten by flames.
Feyre looked up with red eyes and smiled softly. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a cluttered array of ruined paintings like a graveyard of bones. "Hm, I shouldn't have put this off for so long." Her gaze drifted down to the box in her hand. "Have you found something?"
"Oh, no…no, it's not important." Nova took a step backward, not wanting to interrupt her moment.
Recognition lit her eyes, and Feyre, despite the tears that stained her cheeks, smiled. "Come," she said, patting a spot on the floor next to her, "I've been meaning to talk to you about those."
Still hesitant, Nova inched forward and lowered herself to sit with her legs criss-crossed. She rested her elbows on her knees as Feyre took the box from her lap.
"There are five hundred and twenty-one letters in here," she murmured, lifting the lid and letting her fingernail skim the edges from the back to the front. She glanced at Nova, "One for each week you were gone."
Heat gathered behind Nova's eyes as she stared at the envelopes. "Letters to me? About what?" She asked, bewildered.
With a light laugh, Feyre nodded, "Hm, really about anything I was feeling that week that I wanted you to know about. Things that I would have told you if you were there…" Swallowing the ball of emotion that settled in the back of her throat, she closed the lid and offered it back to her. "I was terrified to go into the study and find them destroyed. They are yours to keep. You may do with them what you wish. Read them or not, I won't pressure either decision."
Carefully, Nova cradled the box to her chest and nodded. She'd decide what to do later. Right now, all she could see was her mothers art artwork turned to ash.
"I'm sorry you lost your paintings." She murmured.
Feyre stroked her fingers across the charred surface where fireworks could be seen through the haze. Though Nova couldn't see the whole picture, she was certain it depicted herself and her father watching the fireworks in Velaris—a warm memory, now tainted with hate and fear.
"I'll keep this one." Feyre smiled softly.
Her brows knitted together as she glanced up to watch her face, "But it's ruined…"
"Yes, but," Feyre bit her lip and reached over, took her hand and squeezed, "it will always remind me of what I could have lost. What I painted on this canvas is nothing compared to what I got to keep."
Nova couldn't help but smile and return the squeeze.
The remaining task of purging the townhouse lasted a couple of hours more, and Finch and Kole had pushed each other down the stairs only once, which was a success all on its own. Now, on their way to Rita's, Nova walked alongside Bran and Hollis at the back of the group with the audible sound of stomachs grumbling.
"Are you planning to go to the stables tomorrow?" Hollis asked, hands in his pockets. It was nice being outside where the cold didn't take his breath away.
Glancing over at him, Nova shook her head, "Another time, probably. I'm working with Klaus on the high bar."
Hollis nodded and forced a tight smile, urging himself not to feel disappointed. Of course, she'd want to take advantage of the training site.
"I was actually thinking of staying in Velaris for a bit."
"Oh?" Hollis asked, his heart dropping to his stomach.
Nova nodded, "Now that I'm more active, I've been gaining my strength quicker. I like your training facility. The ice is a nice training method, but I think I'll spend some time working on courses here."
"That sounds like a great idea," Hollis said, met Bran's curious gaze, and quickly looked away. "We haven't finished our puzzle, you know."
Nova smiled as they entered Rita's, "Save it for me?"
"Of course…" His voice came out more as a whisper.
Despite moving toward the long center table together, Nova sat between Kyra and Bran as Hollis took a seat beside Finch on the far corner. While everyone talked excitedly about renovation designs, Hollis watched Nova. How her smile grew when Bran laughed and the way she shook her head at her uncle's antics of poking fun at each other.
Friends, that's what they were.
It was what she wanted, and he agreed to it.
He smiled softly, listening to her laugh at something Mor whispered in her ear, and he knew…he just knew. No matter his fate, so long as she was happy, he, too, could die with satisfaction.