Desi was staring at her feet, a deep wrinkle having appeared on her forehead that told Nymiria that she wanted to say more, but was unsure. Their silence was enough of an answer, but it was unbelievable. Nymiria hadn't seen a single ounce of her power in over ten years and she had never read anything about godlings sporadically losing their Graces.
She chortled, rolling her eyes. "You have nothing to worry about, then. I am absolutely, positivelynota godling. Therefore, I cannot kill him." She looked to Trio, noting the slight frown toying with the corner of his mouth. Desi, on the other hand, looked tired.
"Nym," Trio sighed. "Just follow your heart. That is all that I am asking. Aziel can either be an ally or an enemy and all of that depends on what you do with his kindness."
"He isn't kind." She smarted.
Trio shrugged. "Believe what you want." No sooner than the words left his mouth, Trio was disappearing into his shadows. The world around them turned from a blanket of darkness and back into her rooms, the sunlight almost blinding as it streamed in through the window. Nymiria winced at the onslaught of brightness, squinting her eyes as she turned to look at Nia.
"I like him." Nymiria confirmed. "Your brother, I mean."
Desi could only laugh with relief, pulling Nymiria into an embrace before guiding her back to where the dress was thrown across the end of her bed. "Perfect. Now let's get you looking murderous."
Nymiria scowled. "It's not funny."
It wasn't funny. She didn't like killing anyone and Desi knew that, but it was expected. The Duke of Fairnam had arrived and while she was only assigned to accompany him to tonight's revelry, she knew that it also meant she would potentially have to kill him. It was getting tiring, really. Constantly becomingattached to people who weren't ever truly evil, learning everything about them, only to bring a brutal end to their lives.
Brandt, The Duke of Fairnam, was a rather young man. During his last visit, she learned that he was only a few years her senior. He had devilish good looks—blond hair, tan skin, and deep brown eyes that were almost light enough to be considered golden in just the right lighting. He'd never been cruel towards her. In fact, he seemed to rather enjoy her company and had even spoken to her in her native Seelie tongue. That, alone, gave enough motive to kill someone in Dorid's twisted mind. He probably suspected Brandt to be a sympathizer.
After Desiree helped tie her into her dress and worked on the tangled mess that was her hair, she flew down the stairs. Other servants moved out of her way, their eyes wide as she darted through the halls. It was an odd sight to see, surely, but she was running late. After the whirlwind conversation she'd had with Desi and her brother, she had very little time to pull herself together.
Her mind was still reeling with the information given to her, but there was hardly an acceptable allotment of time for someone to adjust to their reality being skewed.
Aziel was a godling. And though the thought should have invoked a certain fear in her, it did the exact opposite.
Nymiria slowed her running to a quickened walk as she approached the doors to the sitting room nearest Dorid's personal chambers and upon seeing her drawing nearer, the gilded guards standing post at his door drew them open. They watched her as she entered the room, both of them muttering insults as she passed by. She paid them no attention, but there was a set of blue eyes on the far side of the room that narrowed in on the guards. He rose to his feet, twirling a dagger between his forefingers. Nymiria watched Aziel as he strode past her, but their eyes never met. He merely walked out of the room, leaving Nymiria breathless and gaping after him.
"You're late, darling."
Dorid's voice echoed through the vaulted parlor, the dark walks and crushed red velvet furniture setting a grim scene when she turned to see a disapproving look on his face. He was angry. Mustering the sweetest smile she could manage, Nymiria stooped to bow.
"My apologies, your majesty. Please, forgive me." She lifted her eyes to meet his, throwing him a sorrowful look that usually softened him. It did. She watched as his shoulders slumped, his look of ire quickly shifting to a look of pity as he turned to face the duke.
"Mystics often forget our customs. Nymiria and Aziel, both, are often not where they are needing to be and lose all track of time." His smart made the other men around him laugh. Even the duke grinned a little too hard for her liking.
Brushing off his comment, she followed the wave of his hand and took her place next to the duke. Brandt looked over her dress, his eyes lingering on the ornately bejeweled decolletage of her gown where the tiniest bit of her cleavage peaked out above the golden hem. His hand fell to her knee with unearned familiarity, rousing a feeling of nausea inside of her. Nymiria smiled.
Chapter 10
The receiving parlor had been decorated specifically for the duke. Fairnam flags were posted around the room, the crest hanging over the hearth like a prized kill.
In the last thirty years since the Yaarboroughs conquered Fairnam and claimed it for the humans, it's become quite the beacon of triumph. It's been the first successful siege of Mystic lands in Gaellagh under Dorid's reign. Before him, Jaegh Yaarborough was able to take control of at least five, making their portion of the continent on this side of the divide far larger than it had once been.
The divide was merely a chain of mountains that split their continent in half and while Dorid had been trying for years to have all of Mystic territory under his control, the forest that was notoriously called Yaar's Wander, was extremely hard to navigate. Which made it increasingly difficult for Dorid to make the first successful settlements.
He'd hadherkingdom at one point in time, but lost it all in a bet with some other Duke or Baron that she'd forgotten the name of. They had died tragically. And by tragically, she meant that she'd stabbed him directly in his heart while on top of him.
“You’re the closest to the border, Brandt. I can send some of my best men to survey the land beyond The Divide, but moving a whole platoon of my soldiers to Fairnam is risky. The beasts have eyes everywhere.” Dorid was trying to reason with the duke, preparing for another siege, but Brandt was reluctant. He keptmaking faces that did not please the king and though it was not direct opposition, it was enough to give Dorid a reason to believe that he was being betrayed.
Nymiria did her best to sit pretty, twirling her foot to stave off her desire to take her dagger—shit, her dagger.
Aziel still had it.
The kill orders placed on her mattress that morning were clear and precise: death by stab wound.
There was a servant that was supposed to be present that evening that was once one of Brandt’s trusted advisors, but was stripped of his titles upon the duke discovering him in bed with the duchess. It hadn’t ended well. Dorid was planning on framing the servant for the entire thing—had even gone so far as planting a dagger in the servant’s room for authorities to find.
As if he could hear her thoughts and feel the sweat on her palms, the doors opened in the parlor to reveal the bastard prince. He stalked into the room without once glancing in her direction, his eyes focused on the handkerchief he was using to clean blood off of a blade.
