Men. Men. Men.Their hands, their faces, their anger, and all of their greed. It was a blur of faces she’d forced herself to forget, a series of moments she wished to extinguish from her memory forever. Those faces twisted and bled into the image of Dorid Yaarborough and all of his hateful pride—him hitting her, him berating her. Him forcing a blade into her hand and giving her a command.
Nymiria flinched at the impact of her blade breaking through muscle and bone, plunging into Owen’s heart. She shuddered as she watched him fall, as she held him in her arms as he died.None of it was real.
Memories. Hundreds, thousands, all of them leading up to the moment she discovered that her mother had been the one inflicting this torture. That her mother, the one she once thoughtto be the image of power, had been the guiding hand to all of her suffering.
Her mother. Hermother. Her mother’s eyes, her smile, the hatred in her eyes, and…
Blood.
The power inside of her felt like ice coursing through her veins. Touching it with her mind was the equivalent to a mother tending to the wound of a hurt child or a comforting kiss placed upon a forehead. The power inside of her was wounded. It hadn’t vanished. It had just been hiding. She was careful with it—tender.
Observing it closer, she watched the ball of light unfurl, spreading through her core and painting her soul silver. The flowers bloomed along her arms and legs, vines spilling from her fingers and wrapping around each limb, carefully caressing her skin as if to apologize.
Aziel stared at her, watching as those vines twisted and curled around her skin, as she blossomed into something that was so ethereal, the wordbeautycouldn’t even describe it. Moonflowers danced along her skin, releasing a silver dusting of pollen into the sky. They shimmered in the light, dancing around in the broken fractals of the sun’s rays like a million tiny stars. The white of the vines shifted to green the closer they came to her fingers, spilling out of her and weaving themselves through the dirt.
Her skin had always been pale but there was a specific glow to her now that he could not quite explain in words. She looked as if she’d been carved from the most beautiful gems that lived under the surface of the earth.
“Look at you,” Aziel whispered. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
A chill ran up her spine at the words, her heart stuttering when she felt Aziel’s fingers brush over the soft white petals sproutingfrom her skin. She pressed herself into him, letting his hand guide them both to the pedestal at the center of the labyrinth. Her mind felt detached from her body, the world seemingly spinning when she looked down at herself.
Her breathing quickened when Aziel’s hands ghosted over the flowers on her shoulder, her lips parting when his thumb traced along the curve of her jaw. She turned to him then, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. She didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to convince herself that this was not a good idea. There were so many emotions flooding her body, but the strongest one of all was the desire to be touched and to touch.
Nymiria pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes and threw her arms around Aziel’s neck. The vines retract immediately, pulling back into her skin as she hugged him. He stiffened at the sudden impact, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides before he finally, slowly pulled her closer to him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He shook his head, shivering at the hitch in her breathing when his fingers moved to the slope of her spine. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hands still lingering on his shoulders. “Always so stubborn. And for what?”
Nymiria spent the remainder of that day growing flowers from the palm of her hand. Even at night, as Aziel slept away in their bed, she let them grow. She dedicated each flower to each of her regrets, using all of the energy from her guilt to produce each beautifully delicate bloom.
When Aziel awoke the following morning, Nymiria was still sleeping soundly at his side and their room was filled with thousands of flowers.
Chapter 16
Everywhere Nymiria went for the next day and a half, petals were stuck to the soles of her shoes and the bottoms of her skirts. The cherry trees were in full bloom and with each breeze, a blizzard of pink and white blossoms coated the ground, every street, every store looking as if it had received a fresh blanket of colorful snow.
She hadn’t seen Everand since their exchange and received word that he was going to retrieve his parents in Alvaros. Thankfully, Aziel hadn’t demanded for her to attend any lessons, believing that she needed rest for what they were going to attempt next. He also had not returned to the palace the night before, leaving her to wonder if the unsolicited hug she’d given him in the forest had scared him off.
“There you are!” A deep voice called from behind her. Nymiria turned, a smile blooming across her face when she saw Trio jogging to catch up with her. She paused, waiting for him before they both continued walking at the same pace. “I’ve been lookingeverywhere for you—your father wanted me to invite you to his palace tonight for dinner.”
Nymiria nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Trio glanced around at the market. “There has been a dress delivered for you. It should be in your rooms when you return home for the day.” He flicked a cherry blossom off of his shoulder. “Aziel told me what happened with Everand. Are you alright?”
She considered this for a moment and then shrugged. “I must admit that I’m still slightly angry with Everand. I’ve become rather defensive over all of you, you know? I don’t like the fact that anyone would deem you unworthy based upon the shackles you all once wore.” She folded her arms around her waist, incisors scraping over her lower lip.
“You are quite the conundrum, Nymiria Celentas.” Trio chuckled.
She gasped, placing her hand to her chest. “Me?”
“Yes,you.” He jabbed, nudging her side. “Have you ever considered taking your own advice or simply showing yourself the same grace that you give others?”
“I’m learning to.” Over a month had passed since she arrived in Eadyn. When she first came to this place, she’d been so trapped in her self-hatred that she could hardly see beyond it. There were moments, many like these, where she saw glimpses of who she could become. “I was once terrified to show my face here.” She confessed. “I believed that people would see me and only remember the horrible things that happened to them, but… it seems as if they don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Trio looked down at her, wearing a small smile. “They don’t.” He began. “Theydon’tknow who you are anymore. They know what you did was not your fault and they have no reason to blame you. The people here trust your father and they know, despite everything that happened, that you were just a child.”
Nymiria remembered the day she’d been crowned as queen. She was awoken by her mother’s advisors in the dead of night, hauled out of her mother’s palace in nothing but her sleeping clothes, and carted to the courtyard. They did a fast ceremony, so speedy that they’d skipped over anointing her with Greia’s Nectar, and placed that crown upon her head.
