Chapter 23
Thorn was the first person out of the door when the carriage came to a stop outside of the palace.
His wide stride and enraged expression was enough to rattle even the surest of men, just the sight of it was enough to make Everand swear under his breath and glance around the carriage.
Nymiria still didn’t move. She waited patiently, her face void of emotion, until her father ripped the door off of the carriage and extended a finger in Everand’s direction.
“You have got some nerve, boy.” Thorn seethed. “To take her without so much as a word to any of us—”
“My apologies, your majesty. I was under the impression that you all knew. Nymiria came to me, I did not take her.” Everand said smoothly. “I believed she would have said something.”
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
She kept her head down, kept her lips sealed tight. Even with just the urge to spill that secret, she could feel something like a noose being tightened around her neck, pressing against her vocal chords. She just needed to get to Aziel.
Stealing a glance at her father, she could tell that he was torn—that he didn’t quite believe the story Everand was spinning.
Nonetheless, he let the young prince exit the carriage, Auritsa and her scarred face not far behind.
Nymiria looked down at her nails, at the blood that was now dried and crackling on the tips of her fingers.
She curled them into a fist and opened her own carriage door, refusing the exit on the same side as those traitors.
“I can assure you that we have been more than accommodating to her needs,” She heard Auritsa saying. “Everand has painstakingly obsessed over every detail of her care.”
Nymiria straightened as she came to a stop at Everand’s side, folding her hands together in front of her to hide the ring on her finger.
When her eyes locked with Thorn’s, she was sure that Everand had done something to deceive him.
Perhaps he’d made her appear happy. Perhaps he’d altered their reality just enough so that she seemed happy, that her hair wasn’t a tangled mess and that the ill-fitting dress was perfectly altered to her curves.
She just needed to get Aziel alone.
Thorn led them into the palace after a few more pleasant exchanges, leaving Raina to escort Nymiria to her rooms while the others turned towards the receiving parlor.
It became more than evident that Everand’s powers were at work here, because Raina, who’d always been kind and gentle with Nymiria, growled at her as she closed and locked the door—sealing her inside.
She released a sob the moment Raina’s footsteps disappeared, her breathing ragged as she tore through the room in search of shadows.
She cursed the sun, she cursed the large windows that lit every corner of the room.
Panicked, tears streaming down her face, and her stomach on the verge of emptying itself onto the floor, she rushed towards the armoire.
“Please, Trio.” She whispered into the darkness. “Trio, I need you. Please.”
Silence.
Nothing but pure, angry silence.
Her stomach gave another painful twist, bile rising to the back of her throat as she heaved. “Please, I know that you are probably mad at me, but I need you.” Her body shook, her fingers dipping into the darkness of the armoire as if she could reach into those shadows and retrieve her friend.
Still, there was silence.
She let out a soft whimper, one that turned to a small squeal when the door to her room slammed shut. Everand was there, glaring at her, his body an imposing force as it moved in her direction.
“I thought of this already.” He said simply. “Once I’d learned that your shadow friend could walk and communicate through shadows, I went through certain rooms in this palace and placed my own wards. You can’t reach him here.”
Just the urge to inflict pain upon him made the runes behind her ear burn, sending pulses of fire into her brain.
Nymiria’s knees buckled, her eyes going wide, her hand pressing against the spot.
The prince merely smiled and took a seat on the bed.
“We are sharing a room.” He said simply.
“I’ve heard that you don’t mind sharing rooms.”
“Only with people I feel safe with.” She gritted out, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
Everand surveyed her face, frowning. “Nymiria, the last thing I want to do is hurt you. My mother was correct—all you have to do is what I tell you to do. Just be agreeable and fuck me on occassion, and you will be treated well. And, I can assure you, I am not a horrible fuck. You might actually enjoy it if you are willing to set aside our differences.” His eyes were focused on his rings, watching how each of them gleamed in the light.
Nymiria scoffed, eyeing the ceiling as she shook her head. “You… do you not hear yourself when you speak?”
He stared at her for a moment and then chuckled.
“Of course I do.” He rose to his feet and moved towards her, getting so close that she had no other choice than to flatten herself against the wall at her back.
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Nymiria winced, fingers clutching at the skirt of her dress.
When he pulled away from her, he ran a large hand over her cheek, brushing away what dampness remained of her tears.
“I have business to tend to. Raina will be delivering your clothing and your meals for the day. I should be back by nightfall.” He said it so gently, so kindly that Nymiria felt ill.
He was demented. There was something far more wrong with him than him just being evil. He was sick.
Everand left her standing there. Nymiria couldn’t bring herself to move a single muscle, not until a knock on the door brought her from her thoughts. She looked up from the floor, watching as Raina entered with a dress slung over one arm and a tray of food in the other.
“Raina,” Nymiria started forward, nothing but sheer urgency in her tone. “Raina, can you do something for me?”
Her father’s friend looked at her, her eyes glossy with magic. “Within my limits, yes.”
Nymiria stared at the woman, assessing each careful detail that’d been laid out before her that day.
She knew that asking for Aziel or Trio would certainly be off the table.
Perhaps even Raven and Thorn. “Can you have a sage-scented soap delivered to the rooms? It’s one of my favorite scents for my baths and father doesn’t seem to have them.
” Raina nodded. “And… that tea you made me when I was a child, the one with lavender?” Another nod.
“And Hilla once made me a sleeping tonic. For nightmares. You see, after everything that has happened, I have a horrible time sleeping and I need to ensure that I am well-rested for this week. Could you possibly have her make one for me?” It was a lie, of course, but Nymiria trusted Hilla’s ability to concoct something for her. An herbal witch should know.
Raina seemed to catalogue the information. Eventually, she nodded. “I do believe that I can achieve all of that for you.” She said, her tone mechanical and precise, as if it’d been rehearsed.
Hours later, Raina returned with her requested items, all of them placed inside of a box that also held something made of delicate spider-silk lace.
The woman said that it was a gift from her betrothed, a knowing smile on her face that made Nymiria want to gag.
But while the thought of her wearing something so revealing for Everand was enough to make her physically ill, it also helped solidify the plan she’d worked together in her mind.
When Nymiria was tasked to kill for Dorid, there was a specific routine she’d curated in order to prepare.
While the rune on her forbade her from inflicting harm upon Everand, there was nothing harmful in putting the bastard to sleep.
Still, Nymiria followed the routine—washing every inch of herself, removing every strand of hair from the neck down, oiling her skin.
She dressed herself in that lacey piece he’d requested her to wear, even did her best to style her hair as she used to.
There was a trunk of gold jewelry that sat in the far corner of the room and though she cringed at the thought of wearing one of his pieces, she put on a golden choker and earrings that had matching tear-shaped pearls dangling from them.
She warmed the tea on the small grate over the fire in the hearth, filling the room with a soft lavender scent and then took a bottle of wine from the bar, placing it on the center of the dinette she’d arranged to look romantic.
By the time she’d completed everything and lit the candles on the table, the door to the room opened again.
“What is all of this?” Everand asked from behind her.
Nymiria turned, feigning shock as she glanced around the room. “I… well…”
His eyes dragged over her body, burning with a depraved hunger.
She knew that the lace did very little to conceal her breasts or any other part of her, for that matter.
She glanced down at herself, using the anger in her stomach to rouse a believable blush to her cheeks.
“Everand, I don’t want to be your enemy.
” She said in a whisper. “I’ll admit that I have been rather difficult to persuade, but I realized something. ”
He walked towards her slowly. And while she was sure that he was trying to look lustful, the only thing she could see was a predator circling its prey.
“And what is that, petal?” He hummed, taking that final step forward.
She did not fake the hitch in her breath when his fingers closed around her hips and jerked her forward.
She was terrified. Terrified that this plan would fail and all of this would be for nothing.