Chapter 4 #2
It shouldn’t have mattered, but her mind drifted to the nagging thought of him sharing himself with someone else.
It didn’t matter. She’d all but told him to forget about her and whatever it was that they shared—he was free to do whatever he wanted with his nakedness.
In fact, she thought that it was probably for the best that he move on.
If you truly believe that, then why does your stomach hurt so much?
Desi nudged her elbow, drawing her from her thoughts. “What is wrong?” She asked as she glanced down at the poor goblet that was now dented and bent all to hell in Nymiria’s hand.
Nymiria let out something akin to a laugh, but the siblings seated on either side of her did not believe it at all.
Their features were now veiled with concern—almost solemn.
She did not like the way that it felt. She didn’t want their pity, as that was not the reason she returned.
“To answer your question,” Nymiria began.
“I mostly returned to learn more about what I am. I’ve been hearing things and seeing things that I do not understand, nor can I control them. Aziel offered to help me.”
Biting at the inside of her cheek, Desi nodded and lifted her fork. “Well, now’s as good a time as any. Especially with the wretched state the world is in currently.”
Nymiria nodded in agreement, frowning as she pushed carrots around on her nearly-empty plate. “It was hard finding a place in Yaar to sleep comfortably, what with all of the soldiers and footmen running about. I take it you all are giving Yaar absolute hell.”
“We are,” Desi confirmed. “It feels unfair at times, depending on the number of soldiers we are up against. Some of them dabble in magic, but not all. The smaller groups of powerless soldiers hardly stand a chance.” She shook her head. “But, alas, war is war.”
Perhaps it was the nature of her being, but Nymiria was inclined to agree.
It did feel unfair at times. She’d heard a multitude of prayers, shaking and quivering from the lips of Mystic and Yaar soldiers, alike.
And the only thing that was unfair about it was the fact that, majority of the time, she couldn’t differentiate between the two.
In the end, all of them begged for the same things.
Relief. Redemption. Forgiveness.
She shuddered at the thought, closing her eyes as if the action could put an end to the sounds of those hopeless cries.
War is war.
Just then, the chatter and laughter in the dining hall crescendoed into a piercing silence. Nymiria glanced around at the faces that were turned towards the direction of the entrance. Her stomach dipped, the hair on the back of her neck prickling upright.
“Three hells, he finally decided to show his face.” Trio laughed. Desi offered her brother a smirk before looking at Nymiria, who was suddenly looking quite wan.
But it wasn’t the mere fact that Aziel had entered the room that made Nymiria feel as if she would faint. No… it was the man standing beside him that had Nymiria’s breath lodging in her throat, her heart pounding in her ears.
The last time she’d seen him, she and Everand Alvaros had barely entered their fourteenth year of life.
And for nearly eleven years, Nymiria believed that her childhood friend had perished.
She never expected to see him as an adult.
She never imagined what he would’ve looked like as a man.
In her mind, he was still the same young man with long limbs and a mop of golden curls sitting atop his head, a head that she once joked about him never growing into.
But he had.
Nymiria slowly lifted to her feet, the ruined goblet in her hand clattering to the floor, finally drawing both Aziel and Everand’s attention in her direction.
Aziel’s brow twitched at the center, eyes moving between Nymiria and Everand, who was now staring at her in complete shock.
Though tears burned her eyes, she smiled as Aziel and Everand approached.
And once they were mere feet away from her, Nymiria closed the remaining distance in between, wrapping her arms around Everand’s waist.
The man did not hesitate to embrace her, his muscled arms closing around her like a shield.
It didn’t last long.
Though the hug was entirely innocent on Nymiria’s part, she was drawn away from her friend by the distinct odor of death and decay. She refused to acknowledge it, but still put distance between herself and the young prince.
“I thought you were dead.” She said through her tears.
Everand ruffled her hair playfully, his broad smile carving perfect dimples into his tanned skin. “I could have been. Had it not been for our friend, Aziel, I would have probably starved to death in the dungeons at the Gillian camp.”
Her eyes moved to Aziel and upon seeing the cold, hard look on his face, she shivered and refocused on the prince. “You were among those at the Gillian camp?”
He nodded.
Nymiria’s thoughts drifted back to that night—how she’d desperately wanted to put her life on the line to help Aziel and Trio, how Aziel had stated that he didn’t want her tormenting herself over the reality they were facing.
Everand, her dearest friend, had been one of those people that she helped save.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “For all that you endured, I’m sorry.”
“Why would you need to apologize for any of that? You weren’t my captor.” Everand chuckled as if it meant nothing to him, as if she hadn’t been a witness to what Dorid and the Wardens at the camp did to people. He suddenly turned to Aziel, his jaw fluttering around clenched teeth. “He was.”
Aziel and Nymiria’s eyes met, an unreadable look shadowing his face.