Page 37 of Keeping a Nymph’s Heart

“We need to talk before our meeting with Lord Patrin and his lot.”

Speaking of the Edamish nobles, Owain saw Lord Allium and Lord Calix walking together towards the palace entrance. Curious that they should be out this early.

“Now? Now you want to talk?” Chrys entered the bedchamber, now fully dressed in his black leather armor. He crossed the room to sit on a small settee near the window. A side table held an opaque glass bottle full of a liquid that Owain was sure wasn’t water. Chrys took a long gulp from the bottle before turning back to Owain.

“You are my oldest friend, Owain.”

“I’m your only friend,” he retorted.

“Fine, my only friend. So please hear me when I say, this… fondness you have for her is going to get you killed.”

He took another long gulp as Owain stiffened at his words. This wasn’t the first time Chrys had expressed this sentiment, but this time, there wasn’t anger in his voice. If he didn’t know any better, Owain would say he heard fear in his friend’s voice.

“What have you heard?” Owain had feared that his show of affection for Orla had outed his feelings for her, but he had driven the fear from his mind over the past few days of spending time with her, hardly leaving her side.

“I don’t need to have heard anything. Nearly the whole palace saw how frantic you were, carrying her in here like she was precious to you.” He gave Owain a pointed look.

Orla was precious to him. More precious than anyone had ever been in his life. Chrys didn’t say it, but he knew it too. Chrys knew him better than anyone, and he knew Owain would never lose control like that, in front of so many enemies, unless it was for something, or someone, important.

“But,” Chrys continued. “As you know, I’ve been impersonating the messenger imp where I can, and I’ve all but confirmed what I think you already know. It was the Edamish nobles who orchestrated that attack on Orla. And for some reason, they are using runes to help them.” Owain had suspected as much. He was moving too slowly for their liking. And Calix had witnessed Owain’s affections for Orla in the hall the day she was attacked.

The use of runes was concerning. Runes were rarely used in any of the kingdoms except for older buildings like the palace, and even then, they were only used to heat water in the pipes or power certain types of complex magic. The only place where runes were used in abundance was along the border between Iridaceae and the other kingdoms on the continent to keep Elves out of the magic lands. Someone using them from Edam was curious.

“You think it was a test?” He could tell what Chrys was thinking. A day after Owain kissed Orla, and the same day that Calix saw them together, she was attacked. That would be a hell of a coincidence.

“One that you failed miserably,” he said dryly, offering the bottle to Owain. Owain took a long swig, his mind reeling.

Fuck. This was worse than he thought. Owain looked back at Chrys who was averting his gaze.

“There’s something else you’re not telling me.” Chrys didn’t respond but pinched the bridge of his nose before running his hand through his hair.

“I told you this was a dangerous game, Owain.” He sighed deeply before finally looking at him.

“Word of your… affection for your brother’s killer has reached your father’s ears. The other lords are now whispering that you may have turned traitor to the kingdom and that you are working with her to exact revenge on those who hold you in low esteem.”

Owain ran his hands through his hair. This went beyond bad; this had become catastrophic. Chrys continued. “You know there is no love lost between me and Edam. I’ve never given a shit about Elven politics. I am loyal to you as my best friend. But I need to know: Is she worth dying for? Because that’s what’s at stake now if we can’t convince the lords that you aren’t engaging in treason.”

“Say what you’re really thinking.”

“Honestly, Owain, I’m thinking that only a fool would fall for a nymph and expect that love to be returned. And I’m afraid that you will wind up dead over a female who could never care for you as deeply as you care for her. So, I ask, is she worth it?”

Love. Chrys had insinuated that Owain was falling in love with Orla. It wasn’t an idea that he had let himself stew on for long. He knew the reputation of nymphs, knew that Orla herself had expressed worries about her capacity to love. But when he thought about Chrys’s question, the answer was simple.

Yes. He didn’t even have to think about the question. Being with Orla felt like taking his first breath after being held under water. He felt like a different person when he was with her. And he wouldn’t use her in their plans, regardless of the consequences.

“Yes,” he breathed. “She is worth everything I have to give.”

“Then you and I need to come up with a new plan.”

* * *

Three stern-faced Elven males looked at Owain with varying degrees of contempt etched on their faces. It was several hours after Chrys and Owain had spoken, and Owain found himself in yet another palace meeting room. This time, he convened with Chrys and the Edamish lords. It would have been smarter, safer even, to have them meet in his rooms. But over the past several days, those rooms had become a sanctuary from the games of court. His own little hideout with Orla where he could truly be himself.

The mood in the room was tense, to say the least. Lord Patrin and Lord Allium were sneering at Owain, while Lord Calix eyed him, assessing. Calix was the one he really had to worry about. Like King Mikki, Lord Calix was gifted with a kind of mind work. He couldn’t control another’s body like Mikki could, but he could read into an individual’s wants and desires. Even ones they hadn’t fully admitted to themselves yet. Having grown up around the male, Owain was usually good about keeping his mind guarded from that kind of power, but he imagined in his panic to save Orla’s life, things might have slipped.

“Gentleman.” Owain inclined his head in greeting, but none of the lords spoke, clearly assessing him. “As you know, I have been indisposed the last few days, and I wanted to give a few updates that will help us finalize our plans.” No one spoke, so Owain went on. He told them what he learned when observing the king’s army. Making note of the general size and experience level of the army and outlining areas of weakness that their own forces could exploit. This garnered interested murmurs from the lords, though they all looked at Owain with hostility.

Lord Patrin was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak. “And what of Lady Orla? We have heard no updates and that is still a key aspect of our plans.” Owain knew that whatever he said next had the possibility of damning him.