Page 32 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

Trio looked at her with something akin to pride, the small nod of his head and the kindness in his eyes making her want to smile back at him.

"Something along those lines. But when a child is born with a blessing from the gods, that god also gifts them with a plethora of abilities to help ensure their survival; one of those being the ability to withstand being killed by anyone who doesn't have a certain degree of magic.

" Trio looked at her thoughtfully, his head tilting to one side as if deep in thought.

"I once watched Aziel get stabbed seventeen times—one went directly through his heart.

And while it did slow him down, he was up within the next five minutes and was able to kill the asshole. "

Nymiria eyed the man in front of her. He spoke of Aziel fondly. Almost like one would a friend. "I assume that the two of you are close."

"He's my best friend." Trio shrugged.

"And you?" She swiveled her head in Desi's direction, eyes narrowing.

"Are you friends with him too?" Desi gave her a solemn look before nodding her head.

"Well, that's just perfect. Here I was, thinking that you loathed him as much as I did!

You said you were thrilled that I punched him in the throat!

" She threw her hands up in exasperation, wishing that there was a hard object she could bang her head against.

"To be fair, I still want to see you do it again."

"You punched Aziel in the throat?" Trio chuckled, his dark eyes practically glowing with amusement.

Nymiria nodded. "I believe he forgot to divulge that bit of your interactions with me.

Thank you, Nymiria." He spoke as if cataloging the information to use at a later time.

Nymiria certainly wanted him to. She would love to see Aziel's face when the moment was brought up in conversation.

Their friendship made sense, though. Desi had lived in the palace for years. And given the fact that Desi and Trio were both Mystics, it only seemed natural that Aziel would confide in them and befriend them. This place was hell if you had to navigate it alone.

"So, I can't kill him?" Nymiria asked. "If I wanted to, I mean—"

Trio's smile fell, his brow furrowing before he looked to his sister. "She's planning to kill him?"

"It was theoretical." Nymiria added quickly, her feet carrying her forward to grab his hand.

She gave him a pleading look, her fear more than evident.

When Trio looked down at where they were touching, she jerked her hand away and took a small step back.

"Listen, I have many people asking me to do many things and I am just trying to find answers—I'm trying to figure out what's going on here.

" She placed a hand over her pounding heart for emphasis.

"I don't know what I want or what I believe, but I'm trying to figure it out. "

"I'll give you some advice, Nym—can I call you Nym?" Trio arched a brow at his question, to which Nymiria only nodded. "If anyone in this world understands what it's like to be in your position, it would be Aziel. Desi and I would be the first people that can attest to the fact that Aziel can be…"

"An asshole?"

Trio smirked. "Yes, but he means well. Most of the time.

" He moved towards her slowly, taking her hand into his with the gentleness of someone who understood the pain and confusion, with the care of a friend.

Nymiria went rigid, eyes darting to Nia.

"Trust him, Nym. Listen to your heart. It will rarely lead you astray.

What Phyona told you is true. Aziel is leading the rebellion against the Yaarboroughs.

He has been working towards this for the last ten years and now that we finally have a place to house all of those misplaced and imprisoned, we cannot let the leader of this operation die.

So, I beg of you, think twice before you lift another blade in his direction. "

"But I'm not a godling." Nymiria insisted, pressing a hand to her chest. Trio made no moves to object to the statement, but there was a look in his eyes that said otherwise. "Am I a godling?" The sentence was more of a whisper to herself than to the others in the room.

Desi was staring at her feet, a deep wrinkle having appeared on her forehead that told Nymiria that she wanted to say more, but was unsure.

Their silence was enough of an answer, but it was unbelievable.

Nymiria hadn't seen a single ounce of her power in over ten years and she had never read anything about godlings sporadically losing their Graces.

She chortled, rolling her eyes. "You have nothing to worry about, then. I am absolutely, positively not a godling. Therefore, I cannot kill him." She looked to Trio, noting the slight frown toying with the corner of his mouth. Desi, on the other hand, looked tired.

"Nym," Trio sighed. "Just follow your heart. That is all that I am asking. Aziel can either be an ally or an enemy and all of that depends on what you do with his kindness."

"He isn't kind." She smarted.

Trio shrugged. "Believe what you want." No sooner than the words left his mouth, Trio was disappearing into his shadows.

The world around them turned from a blanket of darkness and back into her rooms, the sunlight almost blinding as it streamed in through the window.

Nymiria winced at the onslaught of brightness, squinting her eyes as she turned to look at Nia.

"I like him." Nymiria confirmed. "Your brother, I mean."

Desi could only laugh with relief, pulling Nymiria into an embrace before guiding her back to where the dress was thrown across the end of her bed. "Perfect. Now let's get you looking murderous."

Nymiria scowled. "It's not funny."

It wasn't funny. She didn't like killing anyone and Desi knew that, but it was expected.

The Duke of Fairnam had arrived and while she was only assigned to accompany him to tonight's revelry, she knew that it also meant she would potentially have to kill him.

It was getting tiring, really. Constantly becoming attached to people who weren't ever truly evil, learning everything about them, only to bring a brutal end to their lives.

Brandt, The Duke of Fairnam, was a rather young man.

During his last visit, she learned that he was only a few years her senior.

He had devilish good looks—blond hair, tan skin, and deep brown eyes that were almost light enough to be considered golden in just the right lighting.

He'd never been cruel towards her. In fact, he seemed to rather enjoy her company and had even spoken to her in her native Seelie tongue.

That, alone, gave enough motive to kill someone in Dorid's twisted mind.

He probably suspected Brandt to be a sympathizer.

After Desiree helped tie her into her dress and worked on the tangled mess that was her hair, she flew down the stairs.

Other servants moved out of her way, their eyes wide as she darted through the halls.

It was an odd sight to see, surely, but she was running late.

After the whirlwind conversation she'd had with Desi and her brother, she had very little time to pull herself together.

Her mind was still reeling with the information given to her, but there was hardly an acceptable allotment of time for someone to adjust to their reality being skewed.

Aziel was a godling. And though the thought should have invoked a certain fear in her, it did the exact opposite.

Nymiria slowed her running to a quickened walk as she approached the doors to the sitting room nearest Dorid's personal chambers and upon seeing her drawing nearer, the gilded guards standing post at his door drew them open.

They watched her as she entered the room, both of them muttering insults as she passed by.

She paid them no attention, but there was a set of blue eyes on the far side of the room that narrowed in on the guards.

He rose to his feet, twirling a dagger between his forefingers.

Nymiria watched Aziel as he strode past her, but their eyes never met.

He merely walked out of the room, leaving Nymiria breathless and gaping after him.

"You're late, darling."

Dorid's voice echoed through the vaulted parlor, the dark walks and crushed red velvet furniture setting a grim scene when she turned to see a disapproving look on his face. He was angry. Mustering the sweetest smile she could manage, Nymiria stooped to bow.

"My apologies, your majesty. Please, forgive me." She lifted her eyes to meet his, throwing him a sorrowful look that usually softened him. It did. She watched as his shoulders slumped, his look of ire quickly shifting to a look of pity as he turned to face the duke.

"Mystics often forget our customs. Nymiria and Aziel, both, are often not where they are needing to be and lose all track of time." His smart made the other men around him laugh. Even the duke grinned a little too hard for her liking.

Brushing off his comment, she followed the wave of his hand and took her place next to the duke.

Brandt looked over her dress, his eyes lingering on the ornately bejeweled decolletage of her gown where the tiniest bit of her cleavage peaked out above the golden hem.

His hand fell to her knee with unearned familiarity, rousing a feeling of nausea inside of her. Nymiria smiled.