Page 19 of Keeping a Nymph’s Heart

“It is mind-numbingly dull,” Owain agreed. He had never thought much about what it would entail to be his father’s heir—or heir presumptive—but had he thought about it, he wouldn’t have imagined this. Owain had been used to a certain level of freedom as a warrior. As long as he showed up for battle and training, his life was his to do as he pleased. But in this role, he felt small and reigned in. Though he refused to acknowledge it, he wasn’t sure the role suited him.

“So, Chrys, you’ll be pleased to hear that I am promoting you. Now you are my top advisor. Consider yourself Lord Chancellor to the heir presumptive of the Kingdom of Edam.” Grinning, he made a mock bow at Chrys.

“I am your only advisor and that sounds like more work. No, thank you,” he said, raising his middle finger at Owain.

“Not more work, just attend those dreadful meetings in my stead.”

“And what will you be doing? Wait, let me guess, spending time with the chit?” said Chrys.

“Don’t call her that.” Owain looked pointedly at Chrys. “We need information, and she may have it. Besides, Lord Patrin and the others have yet to secure allies at court. It would be a moot point for me to—to put anything in motion until we know we will succeed.” He stumbled over the words and hoped Chrys didn’t notice.

“Fine, I’ll do it. Tell me, my lord, am I attending these meetings as me, or am I attending them as you?”

“As me, of course,” Owain retorted. “What’s the point of you being a changeling if we don’t put that power to use?” He grinned at his friend. “Now get out of here before Orla sees you and this plan falls apart before it’s begun.” He shooed Chrys out of his rooms.

“Oh, one last thing,” Owain added. “This stays between us. No reason for the Edamish nobles to know what you and I are up to.” Chrys responded by miming zipping his lips.

With a simple wave of his hand, Chrys changed before Owain’s eyes. His legs and torso elongated, his hair shrank back into his head while lightening from dark brown to Owain’s reddish brown hue. His eyes lightened to the palest of blue while his nose became more prominent. Chrys stood, the exact double of Owain, right down to the bump in his nose from all the times Gwayne had broken it. He winked at Owain before he slipped out of Owain’s room.

Orla appeared a few minutes after Chrys’s departure, and for a moment, Owain was momentarily stunned. She looked like herself, but she was dressed differently. It shouldn’t have been such a stark change, but it was. Gone was the shapeless leather armor. She stood in front of him wearing tight-fitting tan trousers displaying every curve of her thick thighs, a billowy white top, and sinful leather stays that accentuated her bountiful breasts. He tried to get his mouth to move, but he failed miserably.

“You’re staring.” She cocked her head to one side, her lips curved into a smile. If it wasn’t for her picking her cuticles, he would say she almost looked relaxed.

Clearing his throat, he finally found his voice. “I am. Aren’t you meant to be guarding me? I don’t see how that’s possible with no armor or sword,” he teased.

“You’re a warrior; I’m sure you won’t let yourself get killed simply because I am unarmed. Or are you not as skilled as you pretend to be?” She chuckled as he let out a bark of a laugh.

After the events of the previous day, he had expected her to be sullen and withdrawn, but she seemed content. He liked this version of her.

“Besides, I don’t particularly feel like sitting in the palace all day playing guard. So today I will be playing escort. There are a few things I need to do on the grounds after I drop you off at the king’s office.”

She said it so matter-of-factly. He couldn’t help but notice her use of the word playing guard. He wondered if that’s how she saw herself. Just like she noticed him playing at being a noble, did she feel she was playing at being a warrior? The more he learned about her the more curious he became.

“Mind if I join you?” Chrys was already set up to attend the day’s meetings as Owain, so there was no reason for him to sit in more mindless meetings. Curiosity also niggled at him. What might this version of Orla be like? She looked a far cry from the famed Hero of Fontina.

Orla looked him over, her gaze assessing in a way that made him feel exposed before she responded.

“You can come, but you have to help.”

“Okay, where are you taking me?”

* * *

Leaves rustled under foot, as Owain walked along the soft earth deep on the palace grounds beneath a canopy of trees. It was cool here, the leaves of the trees so dense that little light touched the forest floor. Evergreens surrounded them, their pine scent permeating the air, mixing with the sweet wildflower scent of Orla. This journey had been sweet torture. They had ridden in on horseback, traveling to the outer reaches of the palace grounds, and were now hiking up a small hill looking for particular herbs Orla hoped to find.

Normally sure-footed, Owain kept stumbling over rocks and tree roots as he was captivated by the view of Orla’s full ass in front of him. The flare of her round hips made him ache. He was constantly readjusting his trousers, hoping she didn’t notice the bulge at the front of them.

“And what exactly are we looking for?” He wasn’t opposed to walking around the forest with her, but it seemed an odd activity for the two of them in the middle of autumn when many of the plants were no longer in bloom. A small part of him thought he should take this opportunity to move closer to completing his goals at the palace. But that part was silenced by the much louder part that was excited to be alone with her.

“A few things I’ve run out of,” she replied. “I need some lavender and tulsi. There should be a few bushes up ahead. And I could use some more chamomile. I would love to find some stinging nettle, but I didn’t bring any gloves, so I’ll have to come back if I want to collect some of those.”

“I thought you were a nymph?” he asked. She turned to look at him.

“So,” she said defensively as though he had insulted her.

“It’s just, these are witch’s herbs. Are you collecting them for that witch you ran from yesterday?” His curiosity peaked. Most nymphs had some dominion over plants. They could make them grow when out of season or could increase the quantity to fresh plants that they already had. It was even rumored that more powerful nymphs could grow plants at will from nothing at all. It was rare for a nymph to need these kinds of plants for any kind of magical use. And he hadn’t sensed that Orla was part witch. Though it wouldn’t be surprising if she hid any witch origin. Witches were not viewed kindly in large parts of Esrom.

“Oh, it’s not for magic,” she said quietly, and turned to continue her journey up the hill.