Nymiria shook her head in disbelief, eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out the complexities of this man. He never ceased to surprise her. After a moment of laughter, she finally relaxed again, basking in the still silence. It nagged at her, though. She'd heard of people getting married and political unions, but she'd never heard much about mates. She didn't know what was expected of them—where any of this would lead. "What does that mean, then? We're mates, but… what does it entail?" She stammered.
"Whatever you want it to mean." He shrugged. She hadn't realized that they were holding hands until his thumb brushed over hers. She looked down at their interlocked fingers and nodded. "Obviously, by now, you should know that I am proud of it—our bond. But I'm not going to make you choose me out of some obligation to fate. As I said before, I'd take crumbs if that was all you were able to give." Nymiria moved into his lap at that moment, staring down at the fearful expression on his face. She'd never seen him look so vulnerable. Not even when they spoke of Camalia. "It hurts me when you say that you are nothing, Nymiria. Because, to me, you are everything."
She was prepared to close the distance between them, everything that had happened in Dorid's office, everything she read, and everything she learned becoming an afterthought. It was drowned out by the desire to bring him assurance, to soothe whatever wound inside of him that was aching, to let him know that he was…more.
They were broken apart by the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. Low whispers were being exchanged between what Nymiria believed to be two women. She and Aziel exchanged confused glances before scurrying off the bed and approaching the source. Aziel did not hesitate to open the door immediately,his sword already drawn and pointed in the direction of one of the women, the tip mere centimeters from a very vital vein.
Nymiria recognized her immediately, a possessive anger filling her chest when she realized it was the woman Aziel had sprawled across the billiards table. The anger only grew when Aziel released a sigh of relief and lowered his blade from Hilla's throat.
"What is it?" He asked lowly, looking between her and the frail blond woman that stood behind her.
The courtesan, Hilla, glanced at Nymiria shyly, like she needed to feel remorse for her presence. "We found the Rune Witch." She stammered. "She believes that she can reverse the magic, but she will need to see the runes first."
Chapter 29
Hilla was an herbal witch. They'd known one another from spending time together in the courtesan wing, but had never spoken beyond rudimentary subjects. Nymiria certainly never would have suspected that she would have done any type of magic at all. Even Lorelei, the woman who accompanied her, dabbled in the art of witchcraft. Nymiria was surprised.
According to Aziel, Hilla had been supplying him with salves for his scars for years and she'd even been the one to slip tonics into the drinks the other night. He still hadn't explained where the scars came from, but it was not her place to ask. Especially not at a time like this when they'd both worn their souls ragged with truths.
Although Hilla explained that the Rune Witch was within the palace, they were taking extra precautions to conceal her identity. She was young—a child, really, and Lorelie and Hilla had risked their own necks just to be able to speak to her.
"She's protected by an old woman who runs a pastry stall in the market." Lorelei explained. Nymiria's heart sank, Dieve's image filling her mind. Aziel looked over at her, seemingly already knowing exactly who they were talking about as well.
From Dieve's insinuations, she had a rather close relationship with Aziel. "Has she ever mentioned anything to you about a witch?" Nymiria asked.
Aziel ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head. "I knew she was a Mystic, but she'd never said anything about being a witch."
"She's a kitchen witch." Hilla amended.
Nymiria sighed, smirking. "That sneaky little devil."
Hilla looked between the two of them, fingers knotting in front of her. “The Rune Witch is an important witch to any coven, sometimes groomed to be Mistress depending on their skill level. Onlyoneis birthed every three hundred years.”
“Who was the last?” Nymiria asked.
Lorelei was the next to speak, trembling and nervous as she took to her friend’s side. “We are not certain. It seems that they—Dieve—does not want anyone to know. She won’t tell us.”
“And Dieve is that revered in your community?”
“She’s the eldest. She is what one would consider to be our record keep and our scribe, but also our greatest protector. Though she is but a kitchen witch, her capabilities are not limited to just that.” Lorelei explained. “She has studied every craft and has enough knowledge of them to help all of us perfect.”
Aziel released a sigh, fingers digging into the inner corners of his eyes. Nymiria tracked his movements as he walked to the large crushed velvet chair on the far side of the room and took a seat. The life seemed to deplete from him, his shoulders sagging.
“Are you alright?” Nymiria asked. He nodded silently.
“Is it your hands?” Hilla chimed. Nymiria’s gaze flickered between the two, her brow furrowing when she saw the look of intense worry on the witch’s face. Aziel still remained silent, but his eyes were now open and he was glaring in Hilla’s direction. “Forget I asked.” She grumbled.
The witches dismissed themselves not long after, leaving Nymiria and Aziel to themselves. She waited until footsteps could no longer be heard before turning to him, eyes trailing from his face to his hands as he thumbed through a book on the desk.
“So, the two of you are close?” She huffed.
Aziel frowned. “Not in the way you think. Aside from her helping me manage my… hands,” He grumbled. “We don’t do much else.”
Nymiria rolled her eyes before fixing him with them, arms folded perfectly across her chest. “You’ve bedded her.”
“A momentary lapse in judgment on my part, if we are being honest. I feel awful about it, truly.”
“You should.”
