She had no idea what possessed her to do what she did. But those scars on his back had just made hersoangry. And there was nothing she could have done to have stopped it from happening. When he caught her looking, the last thing she wanted him believing was that she pitied him or thought they were hideous. She wanted him to feel…
Good.
Aziel peeled himself away from her so suddenly, it felt as if he’d stolen the air from her lungs. Nymiria continued to lay there, staring up at the artwork painted onto his ceiling, trying to draw in even breaths. He was already on the other side of the room again, ripping on clothing with such force that she was surprised the fabric didn’t tear. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if his sudden urgency was because of her or if it was related to something else.
Guilt flooded her chest, her hand uncurling from the sheets to lay over her pounding heart. “Aziel—”
Before she could apologize, before she could say anything more than his name, the door to his sleeping chambers slammed closed and he was gone.
Chapter 11
Days had passed since she’d last seen him. When she awoke the morning after he vanished, there was a letter waiting for her on his desk, detailing exactly how Aziel and Trio wanted her to handle Everand. They didn’t want her to talk about the war or Eadyn at first. They wanted her to make her act as believable as possible—a friend who had missed a friend and was glad that they were alive.
It would be fairly easy for her to do that because while she wanted to believe Trio and Aziel weren’t just acting out of paranoia, Everand had also been someone she cherished once. They’d both been raised relatively the same and they had both been forced into an engagement that neither of them particularly wanted. As young teens, they had a lot in common. As adults, she was not so sure.
On the second day that Aziel was gone, Nymiria wandered out into the forest, hoping that the books she and Aziel left at the altar hadn’t been ruined by the weather. When she finally foundthe place, the altar was empty and silent, with not even the sounds of birds or bugs to be heard. The books were gone. She took one fleeting look back at the altar before she turned and left, spending the majority of the day browsing the shops in the market.
The third morning, Nymiria woke up and readied herself for her day with Everand, even going so far as to attempt to braid her hair in those beautifully intricate ways of her people. After several failed attempts, she decided to leave it down.
She dressed herself in something simple, yet elegant, one of the few dresses that was stored in the armoire in her washroom before she headed off to her father’s palace.
Thorn answered his own door, his hair unbound and sleep still weighing heavy at his eyes. She could see the line at the center of his brow, a sign that he’d been scowling or stressing more and more. She pulled him into an embrace, smiling as he crushed her against him.
“Do you know why I’m here?” She asked.
He nodded, glancing over his shoulder. “Trio informed me of their concerns. I just wish that they hadn’t included you.”
Nymiria gave a noncommittal laugh, rolling her eyes. “I suppose this is penance for my transgressions. I’ll be fine, though. It was my job once, you know? Convincing people to give me information. Just a bat of the eye here, a touch on the shoulder there, and they were like putty in my hands.”
He didn’t seem pleased with that response at all. In fact, that line between his brows deepened and his lips turned down at the corners. “Aziel is like a son to me and one of my most trusted advisors, but what I say takes precedence over any of his requests. One word, and we will call this off—don’t feel like you are forced to do this.”
Waving her hand at the offer, Nymiria strode into the palace. “Aziel already tried to convince me that I didn’t have to do it, but… I’m trying to make myself useful.”
“You should be focusing on your Grace.” He said, following close behind. “But I do appreciate your help.” She smiled and nodded, allowing him to guide her towards the veranda at the opposite end of the main foyer. Her father left her standing at the opening, a light squeeze delivered to her shoulder before he vanished.
Everand was waiting, the delicate teacup he was sipping from looking ridiculously tiny in his large, bejeweled hands. Years ago, Everand once told her that he could not stand how his father flaunted their riches. Perhaps it was due to his newfound freedom and a sense of intense patriotism, but Nymiria still frowned when she saw the gold on his fingers.
Drawing in a deep breath, she made her way towards him.
He looked at her as soon as her feet touched the slate stone of the veranda, lifting himself to his feet and offering her a polite bow. Nymiria’s stomach curled with unease. “There is no need to bow.” She chuckled. “I am beneath you now.”
Everand straightened, eyes glimmering with something that made her palms sweat. “No matter their station, I would always bow to a beautiful lady.”
She hesitated, entirely aware that her smile would seem forced. It was too twitchy and too unnatural, it didn’t reach her eyes. There was a moment when she believed that she’d made a horrible mistake, that the talents she’d used as an assassin for Dorid were lost to her now.
“Are you nervous?”
Those three words were enough for her to remember who she became during her assignments. Men of power were fiends for innocence and naivete, especially when it came wrapped in a pretty dress and wore a pretty face. Nymiria had captured themost cold of hearts with one simple, sweet, and bashful smile—playing into their delusions to give the impression that she was just as weak and hopeless and in need of guidance as they wanted her to be.
Are you nervous?They would ask, but it was not out of genuine concern. They asked it with hope, a twinkle in their eyes that made her skin crawl.
She played the part of a stammering fool fairly well.
Nymiria gave a slight nod. “When I heard that you wanted to meet with me, I was reluctant at first. I… I didn’t know what I would say to you when I saw you again. There’s just been so much change, I feared that you wouldn’t like the person I became.” She said it quickly, toying with her fingernails and glancing around the courtyard, giving the impression that she was too afraid to meet his gaze.
In response, Everand pulled a chair out from underneath the table. “Sit with me.” He said tenderly. “You have nothing to fear, Nymiria. I wanted to meet with you so that I could be introduced to this new version of yourself.”
She took a small step forward, glancing at the chair and then at him before she finally slid into the seat. Everand sat down beside her, sliding a plate of pastries and a cup of tea in her direction. It was silent at first, but then Everand took over. He told her about Alvaros, about the improvements they were making in the mines, the accommodations they were preparing for the workers, and how much gold they’d already been able to secure and export. He made no mention of his time in the camps and while Nymiria believed it to be suspicious, she figured that it was too sore of a topic for this sort of meeting.
