She wondered if seeing them again would be as it was with Desi—full of emotion and warm embraces—or if they’d all ignore her. She wondered, and feared, that her last moments in Yaar would replay in her mind. That she’d be reminded ofthat womanthat she’d killed in the throne room.
She wondered about her father.
Her brother.
“Thorn and Raven?” She asked.
Desi shrugged, giving her a soft smile. “Raven will be here tonight, but I’m afraid your father is meeting with some people from Alvaros. They’ve been in contact since the Liberation and have been wanting to form an alliance against Yaar.”
Nymiria’s heart fluttered. “Alvaros?” She nearly exclaimed. “They survived?”
Her friend nodded. “Based upon what I’ve heard,yes.”
The last Nymiria had heard of Alvaros, one of the largest Mystic kingdoms on the continent of Gaellagh, Dorid was proclaiming that every last member of the Alvaros bloodline had perished in one of his raids. She hadn’t seen the Alvaros family in over a decade.
Inasha was not known to be a graceful and kind queen, especially when it came to politics. She’d been trying for years to obtain some of Alvaros’s forces. They were known for the strength of their army, each young man within the kingdom being forced to undergo years of brutal and harsh training, and then being required to serve as soldiers for two years. Battle was in their blood. They were vicious and strong and everything that Inasha believed she needed to ensure her kingdom’s safety. The Alvaros family, after many years of debating, finally agreed to join forces with Nym.
But it came at a rather steep price.
Desi and Nymiria were already approaching the dining room, forcing Nymiria’s thoughts to shift away from memories thatwere better left forgotten. There was no way to tell if anyone she knew from Alvaros had remembered her, if they had thought of her just as frequently as she’d thought of them since Dorid began ransacking Mystic kingdoms.
Nymiria let a deep breath of air fill her lungs, but it did nothing to quell the trembling of her fingers, nor did it cease the nagging feeling in her chest that she’d made a horrible mistake in coming back to this place.
Only when they approached the dining hall and Nymiria caught sight of Trio’s broad grin, did her heart seem to settle a fraction. Desi laced her fingers through Nymiria’s, both of them exchanging joyous glances before they darted through the hall to where Desi’s brother was now moving to his feet.
Chapter 4
Trio lifted Nymiria into his arms, twirling her around in a joyous dance as they embraced. His laughter was a balm to her weary soul, her eyes watering as she took in the many faces that sat around the large, food-filled tables.
Majority of the people around them had once worked in Dorid’s palace. She recognized the cobbler, the seamstress, a few servants, and ladies in waiting. All of them, once perceived to be human, were now in their Mystic forms. Even Philter, the man that’d trained her since she was a young woman, sat amongst them.
He was still a large and ominous man, but the subtle changes in his features made him all the more approachable.
Once with a dark beard and long, dark hair, he was now a man with skin the shade of mint leaves. His hair, a few shades darker than his skin, was braided back into the very intricate designs Nymiria remembered the men of Nym wearing when she was a child. Though the name of her kingdom had changed, it was acomfort to see that there were things that stayed the same. The customs, the culture, was still alive. His eyes found hers through the bodies weaving about the room in search of their seats. Trio placed her back onto the ground and Nymiria’s smile slipped to a calm reverence.
Philter gave her a nod, the fondness of his features much softer than any look he’d given her in all of the years she’d known him.
Like most Mystics, Nymiria could understand that his glamour had become an armor—a means of survival that accompanied an act so deceptive that even Nymiria had been blindsided by his true nature. She never would have expected for half of the individuals in that dining hall to have been Mystics.
It was with a quickened pulse that Nymiria scanned the dining hall, not realizing that she was squeezing Desi’s hand a tad too tight until her friend began tugging out of her grasp. “Are you alright?”
Nymiria’s eyes continued bouncing from face to face, her rib cage seemingly turning to stone inside of her, making it harder for her lungs to expand and shrink properly. “I… I think–” She swallowed against the rise of bile at the back of her throat upon seeing a face from her childhood step into view.
The woman hadn’t even looked at her. She was too busy herding children to a table at the far end of the room, smiling and laughing as the children ran around her excitedly. Nymiria’s eyes dropped to the children, each of them seemingly in good health—their hair combed and their cheeks pink and full of life.
But that woman was one she’d seen stripped bare in front of Dorid for her trial, a woman that once lived in a cabin in the woods outside of Nym. Her grandmother, an elderly witch Nymiria once called her Nan, had long-since succumbed to her body’s decline. The last time Nymiria had seen the witch’s granddaughter, the woman’s hair had been cut so closeto her scalp it’d been left bleeding in some places. Her body, now healthy and rounded with the subtle swell of life in her midsection, once deathly thin. Grey. Near death.
Finally, as if the woman could sense Nymiria’s impenetrable stare, she looked up at her. Nymiria quickly glanced away, nervously tugging at a damp strand of her hair as Desi and Trio led her closer to a table by the windows.
Sheer purple curtains hung in front of glass-less arches, making it easy for the night breeze to circulate through the grand space. Though the weather outside was still teetering on the edge of winter and spring, the chill of it felt more like a comfortable evening breeze at the beginning of summer. Magic, she assumed, just like everything else that existed in this place was due to some form of it.
Finally at their table, they took their seats. The food had already been placed, steaming and glistening under the aura lights.
She was foolish to feel disappointed that Aziel still hadn’t arrived. But, given what Hilla told her earlier, she presumed that it was normal. She didn’t want him changing his routine on her behalf. She didn’t expect him to, either. Nonetheless, she could not stop glancing around the dining hall in search of him.
Upon seeing Nymiria’s eyes flickering from face to face, Trio smiled beside her. “Looking for someone?” He hummed, smirking as he looked at her from over the curve of a silver goblet.
Stomach in knots, Nymiria glanced between Desi and Trio. “No,” she confessed. “No, I just… I haven’tknowinglybeen around this many Mystics in a very long time. It’s overwhelming to say the very least.” She toyed with the drawstring of her blouse, rolling the wooden bead at the tip of the string between her thumb and pointer finger. It wasn’t much of a lie, but she knew that indulging these two gabbing siblings would lead toembarrassment. She couldn’t possibly entertain the idea that she’d been looking for Aziel. Not when she didn’t have a single right to. She knew that he was busy. With war, alliances, and his godly duties all weighing on his shoulders, she was sure that he barely had a moment to think about her.
