Page 46 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

For days, he would sneak into the dungeon to check on her. Each time, he’d masked himself and changed the color of his eyes. He told himself that it was better that way—that she didn’t know it was him.

He made sure that she was fed and had Desi escort her to the baths each day to make sure she was clean. Camalia had even held true to their bargain, ensuring that the guards that were posted by her cell were ones that wouldn’t be interested in a woman, much less a young girl.

Five days passed with him sneaking in while she was sleeping, slipping various pieces of food through the bars before he finally saw her awake.

The moon shone in through the small, circular window on the back wall of her cell, illuminating her hair to the point that it was woven with moonbeams. She blinked at him, seemingly stunned by his appearance.

He’d glamoured himself to look different to her once again, his hair a ruddy brown and his eyes the same deep purple of the dress he’d brought for her to stand trial in.

Aziel received word, just earlier that day, that she was to be prosecuted in the morning.

“You’re the one who has been coming every day.” Not a question. A statement. He didn’t cower at her assessment of him, only held out the dress to her. “You smell like cherry blossoms.”

“Is it bad?”

Nymiria shook her head and took the dress from him, clutching it to her chest like it was the finest piece of fabric she’d ever seen. “Not at all.” She smiled.

He was glad. After spending the last several days in Camalia’s bed, he’d prayed he didn’t reek of her stench. He’d scrubbed himself raw before coming here, using a soap Desi had gifted him for his birthday. She said the cherry blossom scent was supposed to make people happy.

He left her in the dungeon, bidding her good fortune on the outcome of her trial. She thanked him with another small smile, her face brightening more when Desi came down to escort her to the washrooms.