Nymiria
Aziel stared at those letters until they began to blur. He read them again and again, wondering what she could have meant, but when accompanied by the feeling of dread deep in his gut, he knew that there was somethingwrong.
He dropped the note back onto the dark stone table and walked towards the balcony. On the table by the opening, there was a silver disk that held white chalks of various sizes. Aziel grabbed one of them, and knelt down to the ground.
He began to draw the sigil that would open his portal, starting with three connected circles—one at the top, two at the bottom—before he started to draw the three connecting lines that would outline their shape. Around it, was another circle with two lines sticking out on either side, one with the point of an arrow and the other with the curve of a crescent moon, accompanied by another set of two small lines.
When he rose to his feet at the center of the sigil, his body transformed. His hair turned black as pitch, matching the two curved horns that stuck out on either side of his head. Darkened veins pulsed to life under his eyes, the blacks within them expanding until there was only a small ring of blue surrounding them. Aziel drew in a deep breath, muttering the chant that would spark life into the sigil and carry him to the Otherworld. He closed his eyes, knowing that the circle had already started to glow with a beautiful silver light.
The sound of his name being called broke his focus. The circle flickered and dimmed around him, his jaw going rigid as he stepped out of the sigil. He hadn’t even made it to the door before it flew open and Trio burst into the room.
“The shadows can’t get into the palace.” There was nothing but raw anger in Trio’s eyes, his usually friendly features were now as cold and harsh as stone. “Nymiria went there to discuss new terms of an alliance with the Alvarians. I can’t see what’s happening.”
The rage that flooded through Aziel was akin to what he’d felt that day in the throne room in Yaar—the desire for blood clouding his vision, dulling all sense of rationality. It seeped from his pores, his magic spilling out and touching everything in its path. The flowers on the balcony wilted, the fires in the hearths snuffed out like someone blowing out a candle. As he crossed the lawn and headed towards the city, every blade of grass and every tree shivered, browning and crumbling.
Everything decayed. Everything rotted.
Save for the palace in which Nymiria currently resided.
The ward that’d been set around Thorn’s palace was impenetrable, even byhim. Even by the sentient version of himself that he’d dispelled in hopes to break through. There was only one way something like this could happen—that someone was strong enough to overpower the might of a god.
Aziel turned to Trio, teeth dripping with the urge to kill. “There is another god in Eadyn.”
The world around them spun and shifted, all of the air leaving his lungs. It felt like a backwards fall, a plunge into icy nothing. The world went black.
Chapter 21
One Hour Earlier…
She was surprised to learn that King Alvaros had become so ill so suddenly that he couldn’t attend the meeting. Auritsa, Everand’s mother, had always been the kind of woman that turned her nose up to the people of Nym, always portraying herself as someone far more superior than anyone else.
Much like her son, Auritsa was doused from head to toe in finery and a display of riches, her face painted such a pale shade of white that she almost looked comical, like she belonged in a theatrical portrayal of a queen, rather than a real one. Her golden brown curls were tinted with blonde, curled and styled atop her head in a way that Nymiria had never seen before; her gown cinched so tight at the waist that Nymiria was confused as to how the woman managed to breathe, her bosoms nearly toppling out onto the table.
She’d never shown an ounce of kindness to Nymiria—perhaps had always viewed her as chattel rather than an actual person. Someone who her son could pump his seed into, a walking womb, and not a woman of importance.
Nymiria schooled her features as best she could, offering Everand and his mother kind smiles as they ate their breakfasts. Though she believed that she was perfectly capable of handling the two of them on her own, she was anxiously awaiting her father’s arrival. It was odd, she thought, considering that Thorn had always been very particular about time.
Raina explained to them that he was still sleeping. But that was odd, as well.
Even when Nymiria was a girl, her father typically woke earlier than anyone else. He would tend to his morning exercises, help the cooks and servants as much as he could with the breakfast meals, and work through paperwork. He believed that the morning hours were the most important hours of the day.
Auritsa lowered her tea back onto the table, eyeing Nymiria. She hadn’t said a word when Nymiria arrived, only pursed her lips and looked away when she bowed. Looking back at that moment, Nymiria realized that she probably never should have allowed herself to stoop to that level for this woman. But old habits did, indeed, die hard.
“I presume we’ll begin when my father arrives.” Nymiria sighed, countering Auritsa with an equally judgemental stare. “Unless you all have killed him and I’m next in line.” She turned to Everand. “Neither of you have said a word.”
Everand released a long puff of air, already visibly irritated. She hoped that he was—she hoped that shereekedof Aziel and that he couldn’t stand it. She hoped it erased every silly little thought in his head that she would ever choose to marry into a family like theirs.
“I don’t think that his presence is absolutely necessary for this conversation.” He began, the tone of his voice shifting just as quickly as the color of his eyes. She watched, perplexed, as that honey-brown quickly flickered to black. “You see, Nymiria, Imeant itwhen I said that I wanted you to be my wife. And I am not the kind of man who takes any version ofnofor an answer.” Nymiria’s brow lowered as he rose to his feet. Her fingers curled around the arm of her chair, teeth grinding, as she watched him take deliberate, languid steps in her direction. “Your father informed us just yesterday what you intended to offer us. And while I appreciate your willingness to offer us your Graces and blessings, I do believe that they are entirely unnecessary.”
Anger burned in the pit of her stomach. She felt the slow swell of that silver light inside of her, that vicious animal that was designed to protect, clawing its way to the surface. “Just get out with it.” She snarled. The prince merely laughed and shook his head. Across from her, Auritsa let out a high-pitched scoff that chafed Nymiria’s rage.
“I don’t need what you want to offer me, Nymiria. What I want, above all else, is for you to bemine.”
“You can’townpeople, Everand.” She snapped. “And you certainly cannot ownme. I don’t care what you threaten—”
Everand’s body was large. Nymiria hadn’t found it to be intimidating until he flew at her faster than she could blink. His fingers closed around her throat, her head colliding with the back of her chair so hard that she felt the collision rattle through her brain. “I’m not threatening anything,petal. I’m promising you that if you refuse my offer, I will have no other option than to takeverydrastic measures.”
Nymiria tried to swallow—tried to breathe. The fear in her stomach coiled around the anger, panic controlling her limbs as she reached up and attempted to claw his hand away from her throat.
