“Things are going well. I believe we are becoming familiar with one another.” She stated. It was not entirely a lie, which she decided was the best way to navigate conversation. Everand was the God of Deception. And while his lust had blinded him fromseeing through her lies the night before, she was not sure if she would be very believable now. Half truths and omissions were safe.
“I believe that we will be ready for the wedding within a few days.” Everand said loudly. “I believe it would be best for us to go ahead and get preparations in order.”
Auritsa nodded. “Yes, I do agree. The sooner, the better.”
Thorn smiled. “The sooner, the better.”
Nymiria dug her nails in her palm, the pain being a dull reminder to keep her wits about her until the time came. “Yes. The sooner, the better.” She gave a nod. “Who will we invite?”
Everand placed a hand on her shoulder, stroking the small path of silver-speckled skin there as if it were a threat. “I have already prepared a list.”
They continued the day mulling over plans for the engagement announcement and when Everand and Thorn disappeared to discuss more in terms of their alliance, Auritsa welcomed Nymiria on a walk through the courtyard, which was now void of children. They were all inside relaxing before dinner, the palace grounds now silent and filled with the sounds of chirping crickets and the trilling of evening bird songs.
“I didn’t want to marry Everand’s father.” Auritsa said, finally. Nymiria’s steps slowed, her brow crumpling as she looked at the woman. “I can understand the anger you had in the beginning, and I am overly joyed that you’ve decided to be a willing participant in this plan of ours. As much as I love my son, he can be a bit rough at times.” She chuckled nervously, running her hands along the pleated skirts of her dress. “His father was not above doing whatever it took in order to have what he wanted. Even when it came to me bearing him children, he did as he pleased. After time, I found that it was better for me to relax. To think of anything and anyone else. Eventually, I began to like it.” She offered a weak smile. “I love my son. I love my son, Nymiria,but he is so much like his father sometimes that it terrifies even me. I don’t know how this darkness corrupted our souls, but it has. And I am doing all that I can to right these wrongs.”
Nymiria’s mouth parted, preparing to begin questioning the woman, but Auritsa lifted her hand. “Nymiria, your mother worked with dark gods in order to achieve the things she wanted in life. She was a whore to the God of Blight, she brought her destruction into Alvaros, and she corrupted my son when he was just a wee babe—” Her voice broke off into a quiet sob, her trembling hand covering her ruined mouth. “I saw an Oracle once who believed that the only way to end the blight upon my son was to obtainyou. The Goddess of Life.”
“Auritsa.” Nymiria whispered. “I know that you don’t want to hear this, but what if Everand isn’t this way because of a blight? What if he is like this because of who sired him?”
The strike to her cheek was unexpected, but Nymiria took the blow. Apologies spilled from her lips immediately, her hand coming up to caress the red mark that was now blooming across her face. Auritsa left her there. Alone. And while Nymiria had every opportunity to run for that gate, she chose not to—knowing that she would need Everand completely unconscious before she continued her plan.
Hilla would be arriving in a few short hours. All Nymiria had to do was pretend to be enjoying the evening breeze, relishing in the fresh air. No one came out to retrieve her dinner and she took her meal on the veranda, thanking Raina as she went.
She ate. She plotted. She sat and waited until Everand appeared at the door, his eyes filled with concern that was too theatrical to be real.
“Petal, why didn’t you come to dinner?” He asked.
Nymiria looked out at the courtyard, at the glowing strip of orange that was slowly waning on the horizon. “This is my home, Everand. I was just thinking about how sad I will be to leave thisplace and I’ve already just returned.” She turned away from him, pretending to wipe away a tear. “My whole childhood is here.”
“So delicate.” He crooned, his hand closing over the back of her neck. She squeezed her eyes together as he massaged the flesh. She could presume that he was trying to be tender, but his hands were still too rough. “You will be permitted yearly visits. For your birthday. It was an agreement I made with your father.”
“That is so kind of you.” She said softly, slowly turning to face him. “You have very talented fingers. Do you think that you could continue this upstairs?”
Everand’s eyes glowed and Nymiria believed that hers were, as well. It was almost too easy. The thought had her riddled with fear as she led him up to their rooms, glancing over her shoulder as if he’d pull a knife on her at any moment. The moment never came. Even as she prepared the herbs from Hilla and poured it into two tea cups, he continued to watch her with that wildness in his eyes.
“Are you going to spit this in my mouth, too?” He asked as she handed him the cup.
Nymiria rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I was feeling very brave last night, I do admit. I have never done that before in my life.”
Everand clicked his tongue and smirked at her, rubbing at his thigh to beckon her forward. “Shame,” he said. “Why don’t you come sit with me?”
She shot him a playful look of suspicion, smirking as she strode forward. She faked a sip from her cup as she took a seat on his lap. “What sort of nefarious things do you have on your mind?” She hummed.
The prince’s hand moved up her spine, fingers splaying at full width until they reached her neck. “You wanted to feel how talented my fingers are, petal.” Relaxing into his touch, Nymiria grunted and groaned as he dug his fingers into the knotsalong her shoulders. She could feel his cock against her thigh, twitching with every arch of her spine.
They continued this for a good while until Everand finished his tea. Nymiria rose from his lap, reaching behind herself to undo the laces of her dress. She worked at them slowly, making a show of herself, before letting the dress slip off her arms and fall to the floor. It puddled around her ankles, revealing the red lace set she’d kept hidden underneath.
Everand’s fingers curled around the arms of the chair, practically salivating as he watched her move towards him again. She climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, letting her hands roam over his chest, his neck, and moving into his hair.
He watched her in a daze, his glassy eyes peering up at her as she stroked and caressed him, her hips rocking against his.
She was sick to her stomach. She could feel her dinner threatening to rise, every nerve-ending in her body rejecting the man underneath her. From his sickly odor to the look on his face… it all just made hersick.
But she performed. For minutes, for hours, foryears, she performed for survival. Nymiria could control her pulse, could control her facial features, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about the ache in her chest, the rage inside of her that wanted to demolish everything in that room.
The urge to send out her vines and drive them through his chest was growing harder to ignore.
Everand’s eyes began to flutter, his head lolling as she ground herself against him. His moans grew weaker, his hands losing grip on her sides. She knelt down and placed a kiss to his cheek. He smiled.
