Page 22 of The Nymph King

Her shadows divided, splitting down the middle. Thin strands worked along the perimeter, slipping through gaps where the ward met living wood, threading into the darkness beneath the tree roots until they found places the captain’s magic had not completely sealed. With a push, the resistance weakened.

One strand passed through.

Then another.

Sound rushed back into her ears in fragments.

“Whatever you learned out there, don’t underestimate the king,” the captain said. “Everyone we know who’s tried to kill him has failed.”

“So I learned,” the other man replied. “That doesn’t make him immortal.”

“I’ve never seen protection like his.”

“Neither have I. But I’ve heard of power capable of challenging it, and apparently some of that power just arrived in Vathis.”

Imani gripped the windowsill, wand between her teeth, while keeping one hand against the stone as she fed more shadow through the narrow weakness in the ward.

The King? Were they talking about Tanyl or Kiran?

Although the privacy spell swallowed anything her ordinary hearing might have caught, her shadows carried the conversation back through the breach in broken pieces, enough for her to follow if she concentrated.

Flicking her head slightly, wand still in her mouth, she widened the opening by another fraction.

The courtyard came alive in her head.

One was a high-ranking guard in full regalia, his armor polished to a muted sheen that caught the low light without reflecting it outright. He stood with practiced stillness, hands resting on the pommel of his sword, but the tension in his posture gave him away—the slight furrow between his brows, the way his gaze kept shifting as if measuring something unseen. The other man, cloaked and at least an inch or two broader, moved with a different ease. He secured his horse with efficient, unhurried motions, then pulled back his hood, revealing himself without hesitation.

He stepped forward as if he owned the space, a faint smirk pulling at his mouth. To Imani, he appeared more amused than concerned, which made her wonder what he knew.

“The king can die. Of that I am certain. I’m still determining the protection he keeps around him, because while it’s difficult to kill him… everyone has a deadly weakness.”

He cocked his head, and a lock of curled, pure silver hair fell across his brow. The Norn male brushed the strands off and ran two hands through his thick, short hair. His large, bright blue eyes practically glowed in the dark, tempered only by the long black lashes framing them. His nose was straight and perfect, with cheekbones sharper than knives.

The captain straightened when the other man approached. His shoulders pulled back, and the easy posture he’d held a moment earlier disappeared beneath something that looked suspiciously like deference.

It clicked then, fast and unmistakable.

Imani knew this Norn, and she sucked in a breath.

It had to be Ellisar. The High Sentinel. The man who held the Draswood and its people under his command with unyielding authority. And standing there, watching him speak as if the world would move the way he decided it should, she understood why.

Most people saw whatever a competent glamour told them to see. Powerful witches were harder to fool. They could sense the pressure of magic being maintained over a body, especially when emotion made the illusion ripple, even if they could not always see the exact truth beneath it. Ellisar would be one of those witches.

Ellisar pulled off one riding glove. Mud darkened the hem of his cloak and the leather of his boots. He had clearly come straight from the road.

“You had me summoned before I’d even made it inside,” he said. “What happened?”

The captain glanced toward the south wing, and Ellisar followed the movement.

When he looked back at his captain, a grin tugged at his mouth.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Something almost excited roughened his tone.

The lead guard nodded curtly. “She and her companion arrived yesterday. I saw her wearing the crown, and her magic signature is… intimidating. She’s small, even for a Norn, and though worn from her travels, her beauty is astounding. More than one man was sneaking a glance at her. But there was something in her eyes… a keen violence. We must not let her appearance blind us. She’s dangerous. I can feel it.”

Ellisar let out a small chuckle. “So, you believe she’s the queen.”

“I’ve never met a true monarch before, but if I did, I imagine she’d have close to the power this female did yesterday. And after our trip to the capital and meeting the impostor king… yes, I believe we have the queen of Essenheim here.”