Page 16 of Keeping a Nymph’s Heart

They arrived at the port to find it full of large ships carrying an assortment of wares. It was early in the day, and the cool breeze intensified the smell of the sea as they approached the various ships and merchants.

There were ships carrying foods, exotic fruits, and vegetables that didn’t grow in Esrom. There were also ships that sold weapons, magically fortified by witches and crones. Smaller ships carried wares like clothing and magically fortified armor. Each ship had its own crew loading goods from the various ships and onto large horse-drawn wooden wagons to be taken into the city. The merchants who were selling weapons and foods would be the first who Owain and the lords would approach.

Owain spotted a gruff centaur that was the merchant for one of the ships that was delivering weapons, though these weapons were unique. They weren’t Elven made. The weapons had runes etched on them, making them imbued with magic beyond the magic of whoever wields the weapon.

It was rare to see weapons like these; only extremely wealthy or powerful beings would have the coin to purchase these weapons. And as most Elves held disdain for any magic that wasn’t their own, it was surprising to see these weapons in Emmental.

“Hello, Goodman,” Owain announced as he approached the centaur. He was an old male, with long dark hair streaked with grey. His upper body was thick and strong, and his lower half had clearly been honed through years of labor. The male looked Owain up and down once with suspicion etched across his face.

“M’lord,” he said, offering Owain no further pleasantries.

“These are fine weapons you have here. I’m surprised to see runed weapons in a place like Emmental.” Owain knew the subtext was clear. All creatures who lived or traded with the kingdoms on Esrom knew how closed-minded Elves could be.

“Someone purchased ’em, I supplied ’em. Simple as that, m’lord.”

“And if someone else was interested in purchasing them, and paying enough that you were disinclined to sell to your current buyer, would that still be so simple, my good man?” There were few who would be buying these weapons, and if Owain could get this supplier to sell to Edam instead of Emmental, that would go a long way in securing the alliances they needed while stopping Emmental from acquiring weapons that could be used against them.

The centaur was shrewd. He looked at Owain and the lords who had accompanied him; he held his gaze on the red griffin sigils they wore and knew they were Edamish.

“For the right price, m’lord, it can be as simple as you want it to be.”

Owain and the lords were able to secure tentative alliances in the form of a bargain with the centaur. If there was a change in the leadership of Emmental, the ship merchant would be paid handsomely to only supply to the new king. More tentative alliances were formed at the port with other merchants who sold food and goods to Emmental. It appeared that many of the merchants were happy to support whoever paid them best, and as Edam was the wealthiest kingdom on the continent, Owain was in a perfect position to do just that.

Once they returned to the palace, Owain was once again ushered into mind-numbingly dull meetings with the other lords. But at least now, they were making progress towards putting their plans into action.

* * *

The following day, Owain was sitting in the parlor of his rooms gazing out of the window. He was preparing to meet Orla for her to escort him to yet another meeting.

How many meetings could one male be expected to attend, Owain thought to himself.

He decided enough was enough. Feigning an important matter to attend to, he decided to send Chrys and Lord Patrin to the day’s meetings in his stead. He had told Chrys that he was going to use the day to get more information out of Orla, but really, he abhorred the idea of more court posturing. Though he loathed to admit it, Orla was right; in many ways he was playacting at being a lord, and he hated it.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said when he approached her outside of his rooms. “Take me somewhere interesting. I’ve had enough of seeing the insides of court offices to last a lifetime.” He made the proposal with a sheepish smile, hoping she wouldn’t ask why he wasn’t going to the meetings with the other nobles.

She eyed him warily. Though the two were cordial since their exchange in the rose garden, no one could say that either had warmed to the other, but they weren’t hostile to one another either.

“What do you mean by interesting?”

“Do you need a definition of the word?” He smirked. She narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing. “Sweet abyss, don’t look so skeptical. I’m bored, and I am asking you to entertain me,” he said, calling attention to the look on her face.

“My job isn’t to entertain you; my job is to guard and escort you. Or did the king change the demands he made of me?” she said, a hint of a smile playing on the corners of her lips.

“Ah, perfect, then I am asking you to escort me to the most interesting place in this palace.” Orla paused for a moment, glaring at Owain before she finally responded.

“Fine,” she huffed, “follow me.”

* * *

“This is the most interesting place in the palace?” Now it was his turn to look skeptical. His brow furrowed as he found himself standing in the entrance of the royal chapel. Stained glass adorned the windows, depicting images of the various impressive deeds of the Gods. The pews were made of a deep rosewood, and the room smelled of incense and pine, both commonly burned during religious rituals in Emmental.

As they walked along the stone floor, Owain eyed Orla.

“Why this place?” he asked.

“You said to take you somewhere interesting, what’s more interesting than the house of the Gods?”

They walked by a large painting that depicted Gaius’s original bargain with Jove. Unsurprising, it was a common favorite amongst Elven nobility. Such a self-important lot. It’s surprising all the depictions weren’t of Elves themselves.