True, he’d hated Nymiria for who he believed she became. But the world had done a phenomenal job at making him believe that very few people had good intentions.
Not her.
She believed that there was good in everyone—something worth saving.
"When we are free of this hell, Nymiria, I would like to help you with your powers." He said softly.
Nymiria nodded slowly, her smile growing tired. "I would love that." She replied.
They both fell silent in their exhaustion, still filled with thousands of questions that could not be answered in one night. Nymiria fell back into a deep sleep, her breathing shallow and her fingers now gripping at the fabric of his trousers. Aziel watched her, eyes trailing over every vine and flower that glowed upon her skin with sheer wonder. He looked at her with the love he was terrified to give, and held her close to a body that was sick with his shame.
Camalia ruined him. And she did so with a smile—watching him,laughingat him as if it had been her plan all along.
Chapter 31
Morning came with the tolling of the temple bell, signifying that all worshippers of the new gods would need to rouse from their comfortable beds, dress themselves in their best attire, and report to the Market Square with haste.
Nymiria rose with a start, her hand going to her bare chest and her eyes flickering around her room. She couldn’t fight the slight disappointment she felt in finding that the other side of her bed was now empty, but she was soon thankful for his absence when Dorid’s courier barged into her room. He was an old man with tiny eyes and tiny spectacles propped on a hooked nose. The wrinkle between his brow gave the impression that he was perpetually angry, his thin lips always in a hard line. He didn’t bother looking at her as he placed a sealed envelope onto her dresser, he only huffed and limped back out of the room.
She tucked her bed sheet under her arms and braved the walk to the dresser, popping the wax seal and slipping the letter out.
My dearest treasure,
We will be having guests tomorrow. Princess Fiernan of Shidosha and her parents will be making an appearance and there will be a soirée to honor them. I have had a dress made for you in honor of this event. Given their ties to the islands and their customs, we have chosen to go with a theme for the evening.
Sirens.
Do you know what sirens are known for? They lure men into the water and are said to bleed the life from their bodies, feeding off of their death.
It is by the power vested in me that I command you to kill Aziel Haze with a blade to the heart tomorrow evening. You will not flirt with my orders any longer. If it is not done by the midnight hour, you will face grave consequences.
Donotdisappoint me again.
Forever yours,
His Majesty Dorid Ciarnan Yaarborough of Yaar
As impersonal as always, his name was not signed, but stamped with large ornate lettering, his royal seal pressed into the corner of the page. Meaning that it was an official royal request and not just a spoken order. This meant that Aziel’s assassination was approved by Dorid’s advisors and the other members of the house court.
Nymiria’s hands were shaking as she curled the letter into her palm, her nails digging so deep into the parchment that they made crescent-shaped puncture marks.
Of course, she was not going to kill him. That much had been made clear weeks before. Still, she could feel the pressure on her, like a boot upon her shoulders that pressed her so deep into the dirt, she could see nothing but filth.It was as she always believed, if Dorid could not physically kill either of them, he would surely find a way to hurt both of them to the point that they wished they were dead or they would take their own lives. He was not above torture, both mental and physical. And he would do so in both ways until one of them broke. She was sure of it.
Unless she or Aziel could rid themselves of their runes completely, killing anyone in that palace—
Nymiria’s brow furrowed, her mind connecting pieces of a story, minuscule details, that Camalia probably never believed she’d realize. Months ago, whenCamalia came to Nymiria late in the night and they devised a plan to kill Dorid and Oran, she said nothing about the runes in her back.
Those runes were not for protecting the king and the prince at all. They were only for Camalia’s protection.
With the letter still crumpled in her hand and her heart thudding loudly in her ears, Nymiria threw on her robe and darted out of her room.
She didn’t know where her heart was trying to lead her, but the moment the iron bars of her garden came into view, she broke into a sprint.
Ever since that day that Aziel tried to snatch the key from around her neck, she’d left it unlocked. It wasn’t hers to keep, not when the bones of his mother rested under the bed of moonflower vines that now crawled along every inch of the garden. The gates were left open. And while it left the sacred resting grounds open to all those who roamed the lawn, it felt too precious to be kept a secret.
His mother deserved to be known. Owen deserved to be known. The people in the kingdom needed to know just how depraved their king truly was—that he could take someone so pure and twist them in ways that they became unrecognizable. Nymiria hadn’t recognized herself in years.The blood that stained her hands felt as if it had drenched her entirely, muddying her features until she no longer knew the person looking at her in the mirror.
It didn’t matter what Dorid threatened.She wasn’t going to kill anyone else for him—especially Aziel.
