Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
The words cut her. King Vernon, father of Prince Gwayne. Owain’s father, and the person who had sent Owain to kill her in the first place was now the ruler of her realm. Owain’s face was turning purple from her tightening vines. She released them a bit, and he took a deep inhale.
“What does that have to do with me?” She felt herself panicking as she paced back and forth in front of Owain’s prone form.
“Lord Patrin and Lord Calix said that you killed Mikki. You’ve been declared a traitor to the realm, and my fa—King Vernon, wants you brought back to Imsil to face his justice. It was Calix who attacked you in that garden. I don’t know how, but he survived and I saw his power for myself.”
This had to be a trick. Another ruse to get Orla to trust him so that he could kill her.
None of what Owain was saying made sense to her.
But if King Mikki was dead, and she had been declared a traitor, that would explain the looks and whispers that had followed her through the marketplace that day.
Oh Gods, if someone had told the new king where she was, how long did she have to get somewhere safe?
And where could she go? If this news had reached a small village like Benin, then surely, it would reach every corner of the kingdom.
Hells, maybe it had even reached the rest of the continent.
Orla felt nauseous. A cold sweat broke out over her.
“Why should I believe you?” She felt her mind spiraling, not sure what was true or what his angle was.
“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m alone and at your mercy. All I want is to help, Orla. To fix this.”
Orla scoffed at him. As if he actually wanted to help. When the vines loosened, Owain rolled onto his knees to look up at her. Orla saw so much pain there. Pain he didn’t have a right to feel. He had been the one to betray her.
“Why would you help me?” She shook her head, tears picking her eyes.
“Because it was real to me, Orla. It was all real.”
Some of the fight left Orla, though she was still furious.
She loosened the vines enough for Owain to untangle himself from them.
He rubbed at the angry red marks on his neck and wrists where he was bound.
They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.
Orla, angry and guarded. Owain, looking sullen and contrite.
“I know you don’t trust me, but I have a place that I can take you where you will be safe. But we have to leave tonight.”
She listened as Owain told her about his father’s orders to have her killed and the lie he told to try to throw them off her trail. He relayed how Chrys helped him escape the palace and how he killed Lord Calix, for good this time.
Orla was quiet for a long moment after he finished.
“And now you think you can take me somewhere safe where your father won’t find me?” He nodded. “He’s the king of these lands now, there is nowhere in Emmental where he won’t hunt me down.”
“You’re right, nowhere in Emmental is safe. But I want to take you to Iridaceae.”
Orla’s face scrunched in indignation. Iridaceae rarely allowed outsiders into their lands.
They were magical lands that had been cut off from the rest of the continent of Esrom for thousands of years.
Unlike Emmental and the other kingdoms were ruled by Elves, all magical creatures held power in Iridaceae.
It was said that magic ran wild there, and that creatures not thought to have magical gifts could practice magic with as much skill as someone who magic was innate in.
“Why would an Elven lord know anything about Iridaceae? How would you even be able to speak their language?” This had to be a trick. Orla lived on the border between Emmental and Iridaceae, and she knew next to nothing about the place.
“My mother was from Iridaceae. Well, her coven was. I’ve been there a few times, and she had a small cabin that would be a safe place to hide.”
“How do you know we won’t be followed?” Orla worried her lower lip between her teeth, thinking this over.
She felt stuck. If what Owain was saying were true, which seemed far-fetched to begin with, then she wasn’t safe in Emmental.
But going to a place she knew nothing about, only that her already unpredictable magic would be even more untamed, set off her nerves.
Owain continued, shifting his weight between his feet.
“My father never knew my mother was part witch, and he doesn’t know about the cabin. He doesn’t even know that I bear a rune spelled by my mother that allows me to enter the magic lands undetected.”
“And will I be detected?”
“Yes, but you’re a nymph, so the magic should respond to your blood and allow you passage,” he said, rubbing his hand along his bearded jaw.
“Should? That’s not reassuring from a male who wants me dead.”
Owain’s eyes looked pained. “I’ve never wanted you dead, Orla. Not really.” A small twinge of something like hope gripped her chest before she quickly squashed it. Bullshit, she thought. Though she refrained from saying it.
Orla thought about her options. She could stay here and hope he was lying; she could flee on her own, though she had only ever traveled as part of the king’s army and didn’t know where she could go.
Or… she could go with him. It was the most foolish option, but Orla valued her life, and if he was being honest with her, this was also her best option.
“Let me make one thing plain, Owain. I will go with you.” His face lit up for a fraction of a second.
“But I do not trust you. I am going because I value my own life, but if I so much as suspect you aren’t being truthful with me, this time, I will kill you.
” She glared at him for a moment before stomping towards the cottage.