Nectar of War: The Song of Verity and Serenity (The Nectar of War Series Book 1)

LAVEN HEPHAESTUS ARVENALDI, II

D AYS LATER AND IT is finally Summer Solstice. The first Solstice I am spending in my study raking through the mounds of papers to go through.

The sun is nearly setting, so the entire citadel will be bustling with excitement. Music, dancing, drunken minds, and possibly Blood Bond Rituals.

“Laven Hephaestus, I do not think so!” Levora waves a finger while walking in.

I smile at her as I see her beautiful dark orange gown.

“The world is alive like never before and you are in here going through paperwork!” She grips my arm, and I am shocked by her strength as she pulls me out of the chair. “Come! Get ready, there is Brovita sitting in a stemmed glass waiting for you in the Throne Room. Wear your nice vest and topcoat, and for goodness’ sake, wear something other than black!”

I erupt in laughter as I move down the hall from my study and to my chamber to change.

“Vora,” I call and she turns to me. “You look stunning.” I smile.

A grin pulls at her face. “I know, now go get dressed so you can look stunning with me!”

*  *  *

The Throne Room has been opened and decorated for our highest members on the citadel. The floor to ceiling balcony doors sit open, allowing in the music and chattering from below. Overhead you can see the sunset through the ceiling windows. The decorators have strung the candles and greenery, it hangs like moss from a tree on the ceiling, and a golden hue emits throughout the Throne Room.

I find Amias, Morano, Roaner, and Hua, who sits on the edge of the table. They are beaming with laughter as Morano tries to drink the Brovita in his glass without hands.

I would join them, but there is something nostalgic about this.

Will this be the last time all of us have moments like this?

Ever since Agivath spoke of the possibilities of losing a brother, it is nearly the only thing I can think of. Who? When? Why? Where?

Roaner looks over his shoulder.

“What is wrong?” He worries.

I smile and shake my head. “Nothing.”

After moving through the crowds of people, I reach the table and my glass of Brovita is immediately forced into my hand.

Brovita is a drink we only consume on holidays, it is strong, sweet, and only meant to be drunk with those you love. It is also the main drink at ceremonies of all kinds. It is known as the Nectar of Intimacy. Brovita truly holds up to its name.

“Now that he has decided to join us, we are getting shittily drunk tonight.” Amias holds his glass up in the middle of the table.

“To whatever the Gods bring us until next Solstice.” Hua grins.

Our glasses cheer in a clank before it touches our lips.

Levora shouts for Hua and she quickly hops down from the table and over to Levora and Phyv.

“I am guessing you will somehow disappear before the night comes and be in a certain someone’s bed?” Morano teases Roaner.

There is a smirk that appears on Roaner’s face. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“After a bottle of Brovita it is elated sex like no other.” Amias says with a grin.

“That is only because Brovita is a high, not a drunken state. It feels euphoric–” Morano’s words begin to trail off and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. His eyes are directed to the open doors of the balcony where the stone steps lead into this room.

Inch by inch she continues to appear up the stairs, there is a woman alongside her that I have never met, both are hand in hand. I could not have told you she was there if Morano was not instantaneously asking who she was.

I can see one woman and one woman only.

A presence like a thousand-piece orchestra.

Her skin glows in a smooth sheen of oil, catching the bits of golden light strung above us.

The sheer cream dress on her is long. It reveals her from hips to ankles, and in the middle, it drapes downward, covering the area just between her legs. Her shoes are rich gold, and they lift her multiple inches higher. Her breasts are revealed through the white material, showing the hint of her cinnamon-colored nipples that caress the fabric above them. There is a deep V cut in the dress from her neck, stopping right above her navel.

The hair I only knew as curly is now done in long, dark knotless braids that flow with every step. Every braid lays over one shoulder, grazing right above her hip.

Her entire back is revealed—the white dress cowls above her lower back before falling to the floor. Bits of tan and gold are laced throughout the creamy fabric igniting her skin.

As she approaches closer, I can see the seams of tan and gold along the edges of the fabric that lines the tops of her hips.

Each connect of her shoe against the stone floor raises me to life, bringing me more aware that she is here and vastly approaching.

Her body is plentiful and antagonizing. Across her hips, she is etched in soft lines signifying fine thickening.

Splendor as this is not quotidian.

Woman.

Ivella is a religion standing on its own, and I go to my knees to worship her every night.

“You blessed piece of shit,” Morano grumbles through the bond.

“How am I of the blessed? Regrettably, I cannot have a crumb of her.” I dreadfully remind him.

“You lie. You could have her. You make stupid decisions, that is all.”

The longer I look at her; the deeper my chest begins to wound.

“Ivella!” Hua calls and Levora is staring wide eyed at her.

I cannot bear to look at her again, but still, I can feel her approaching.

That same scent I smelled all over the letter from days ago rushes through me.

Fucking citrusy sweetness.

“Look at you!” Hua says. “Who is your friend?”

Suddenly, Morano is smoothly on his feet walking toward them to find out the name of her companion.

I finish chugging the Brovita in my stemmed glass before pouring more.

You will have to speak with her at some moment, you idiot.

“This is Lourdes, she has been my companion since birth.” Ivella’s smoothly deep voice speaks and my eyes flutter. “Lourdes, this is Hua, Amias, Morano, and Laven.”

Fuck.

I turn and quickly pass my gaze over Ivella and to Lourdes.

“Lovely to meet you,” I nod.

Morano attempts to intrigue Lourdes. She overlooks him with a soft smile. “You are charming, but I am here to accompany Ivy and nothing more. We must get back home to attend the Solstice Gala.”

Oh, Gods.

She has not a clue what she has just started. Morano will never give up after being denied.

“Laven,” Ivella calls.

I could fucking cry.

“Yes?” I answer as I pour more Brovita into my glass.

“A word?”

I nod and stand from the table.

By the Gods I will burst if I look at this woman.

I walk toward the balcony where we are far from everyone, but still in view.

“You wanted a map for the journey to Ethivon?”

Staring down at the crowds of people gathered and dancing seems to hold my attention now as I listen to her speak.

“I do, if you do not mind, would you be able to lead Levora to them?”

I do not even realize I brought the bottle of Brovita outside with us until I am bringing the glass spout to my lips.

She reaches outward and I see the form of her long and perfectly sculpted nails. They meet in a rounded point, just barely a natural shade of white.

Finally, I look down at her as she drinks from the bottle my lips were just over.

She hums. “Nadrexi’s is better.” She shrugs, handing it over. “Who is Levora?”

Looking down at her hand, the ring I bought her containing Blue Tigers Eye still sits on her forefinger. But upon her left hand, not a single jewel sits.

The harder I look; I see the faint tan of where a ring used to be.

Is the wedding ceremony truly off?

“Levora is my sister, I do not believe you two have met.” As I glance back at my sister she is still staring in amazement at Ivella.

Ivella waves, and in her daze, Levora finally waves back.

“I did not know you had a sister. I do not mind taking her there. Yet, allyship is not going to be their decision.” She explains. “Ethivon is now a Northern Court of Quamfasi, you will have to go through Vallehes and Penelope first.”

Our eyes meet this time and I lean against the stone of the balcony rail to playoff my weakening knees.

We stand here, her holding the bottle of Brovita low at her side as she observes the people below.

“I should visit Mrs. Patro.” A smile finally appears on her face.

“Why have you not answered any letters I have sent to you?” I cannot resist asking any longer. “Why answer that one letter but not the rest?” I try to avoid irritation but as she looks at me with perplexity, I cannot help but to wonder why she is about to form a lie.

“What letters?” Her tone rises.

“The letters I have been sending nearly every day the past month and a half.”

She glances away from me, her eyebrows furrow as she falls into thought.

I am no fool. It all aligns.

“Unless someone has been accepting those letters and forgetting to hand them over to you.” I scoff at the thought. “He is such an idiot.” I cannot keep the thought to myself.

“And why is that?” Her agitation clearly comes through.

Gaping at her, I carry on. “Because he has you. I do not. That is why he is an idiot.” I point.

“I did not come here to speak of this,” she turns to storm away. I catch her arm. Her head whips around as she stares directly through me.

“So, you admit it?” I smirk.

“Admit what?” She says through gritted teeth.

“You know what.” I let go of her arm and straighten.

That it was not as easy as you made it seem to walk away from me. Otherwise, your marriage to this fool would still be intact.

“I do not read minds,” she fixes her long hair that is flung over her shoulder. “I will not guess what it is you are trying to hint.”

Again, she walks away.

“There is a difference, Ivella.” She stills, turning, looking at me over her shoulder.

“And what difference is that?”

I laugh and all this does is agitate her further.

“A difference in what, Laven?” She says my name with a sharpness that transfers her anger to me as well.

I step closer to her and clench my jaw. “There is a crucial difference between someone who will show you the stars and someone who will take you to them.”

There is a challenge I can tell she is willing to put up, instead she walks back to the Throne Room to find her companion and to meet my sister who is itching to talk to her.

I do not follow her in, I head down the stairs of the balcony, letting my feet carry me toward a clearer mind.