Page 8 of Keeping a Nymph’s Heart

“Come, come. Let’s gather in the throne room and wait for the arrival of the king,” said Lord Kennedum as he led them in through the large gilded doors.

The throne room was a testament to King Mikki’s power. The room was awash in cobalts and golds. Large golden pillars etched with depictions of birds and flowers flanked the walkway of the room. A large chandelier lit with hundreds of mage lights adorned the center of the ceiling. The room ended at a large dais with the king’s throne atop it. A smaller chair was set next to the large plush throne, for the queen, though Orla knew that the queen rarely attended court functions and was almost never seen.

The group, made up of Orla, Owain, Lord Kennedum, and the king’s advisors were joined shortly by a group of four men who were clearly from the Kingdom of Edam. All men wore black leather armor. A shorter male with long chestnut-brown hair and a tufted tail stood next to Owain. The other males all varied in appearance; the one similarity being that they were all much older than Owain. All the newcomers looked at Orla with disdain. Clearly, they held the same views as their supposed heir when it came to her.

Orla hated the feel of their gazes on her. The anger she had felt outside the throne room was beginning to ebb into a jittery feeling of nerves. She hadn’t questioned the king’s motives in ordering her to the palace, but now, with so many enemies nearby, she wondered what he was playing at. Was she to be some sort of offering to smooth over the relationship with Edam?

Here, have the Hero of Fontina, the female who killed your true heir in exchange for peace.

Unlikely, as the king had always shown her favor, but the thought still made her nauseous. Orla forced herself to take deep, steading breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She wished she had some lavender to calm her nerves.

Better yet, she wished she wasn’t in this godsforsaken palace playing at court politics again.

She took another deep breath, but as she looked up, she saw Owain gazing at her. His face was set in a mask of utter indifference, unlike the males beside him, who still looked at Orla as if she were a pile of manticore dung. Only his eyes gave him away. His pale blue eyes, almost gray in this light, stared at her intensely, giving away his scorn. Orla forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to back down, no matter how small this whole ordeal was making her feel.

The court herald arrived at the throne room doors, announcing the king’s imminent arrival. As King Mikki walked into the throne room, everyone bowed. The king climbed the steps of the dais to sit on his throne. Seconds that felt much longer passed before the king spoke.

“Arise,” he said in a commanding voice. As one, the king’s advisors, the Edamish convoy, and Orla all rose.

King Mikki was old, even by Elven standards. His long hair resembled wisps of cotton, and deep lines framed his eyes and mouth. His formidable dark wings, the largest on record, lacked the usual shine of Elven wings. If she had to guess, she would say the king was well into his 700s. Orla, at the age of thirty-two would have been nothing but a babe to him. He had often treated her as such at any rate.

Though he was old, it would be foolish to assume King Mikki was weak. He was still powerful. His ability to manipulate the minds of others made him feared with few willing to challenge him. With nothing more than the flick of his wrist, King Mikki could make a person bend to his will. Only those with years of practice at shielding their minds could withstand his power. The threat alone made most people unwilling to try. The Kingdom of Edam had been the only kingdom to challenge him in centuries.

Wearing a placid smile that didn’t reach his eyes, King Mikki welcomed Orla and the Edamish nobles to his court.

“It is my pleasure to have you all here today. It is past time that we put old personal grievances aside and allow our two kingdoms to move forward in a more peaceful manner,” he announced, gaze sweeping from Owain and the other lords over to Orla and his advisors.

“Lord Owain Acer, my condolences for the death of your brother. Prince Aengus was a good male. But I am pleased to see that by all appearances you are stepping into the role of presumptive heir most comfortably. I am sure your mother would be proud.”

Orla watched as Owain’s cool gaze faltered for a moment at the mention of his mother. But otherwise, he remained calm and collected, not as though he was meeting with the king who his father had waged a war against only a few short years prior.

“My brother’s death was most unfortunate, Your Highness, but I am honored to serve my kingdom.” He bowed at the waist as he said the words.

King Mikki nodded before returning his attention to Orla. “It is a particularly esteemed honor to welcome you, Lady Orla Afeani, Commander of the King’s Forces, Hero of Fontina, back into my court.” Orla stiffened at the praise and the eyes all falling on her. She bowed low.

“The honor is mine, my king.”

She said the words and knew the dance, but honored was the last thing she felt.

Back into court. That sounded like the king planned for Orla to be here much longer than a few days. Much longer than the king insinuated in their meeting. To stop herself from fidgeting under the king’s gaze, Orla placed her hands behind her back and bit the inside of her cheek. The pain of the bite gave her something to focus on as the nerves she felt threatened to upend her.

“Lord Owain, my goals for your time in my court are simple. I wish to resume the long standing allyship that Emmental and Edam had for centuries before our recent unpleasantness.” Orla fought a frown at the king’s words. No one in their right mind would have ever called Edam and Emmental allies, though maybe King Mikki thought that if he said it, others would go along with it. After all, who would contradict a king?

King Mikki continued. “Not only would resuming our alliance strengthen the security of both of our Kingdoms but I know my subjects along the border of Edam and Emmental would rest easy knowing they are safe from any additional casualties. And, of course, I am sure that King Vernon has his own goals for these meetings.”

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur with talks of improving relations between their kingdoms. Discussions of ending tariffs and trade embargoes. All things Orla would have found mind-numbingly dull on a good day but today it was excruciating. Only when the king addressed her again did she snap back into attention.

“And that is where you will come in, Lady Orla. I want to rebuild trust between our two kingdoms. I think you being the Lord Owain’s personal escort and guard will move towards easing those relations. In order to squash further… conflicts.”

King Mikki said that last word with palpable distaste.

“The Kingdom of Edam must know that the Kingdom of Emmental is genuine in its desire for peace and shared strength. And what better way to show that than to have their new heir presumptive guarded by the fiercest and most loyal warrior in Emmental.”

The king finished his remark with a look that told her there would be no negotiations. This was not a suggestion or something she could get out of, this was the king’s law, and she was duty bound to honor it even though this new role went well past their agreement that she would act as a figurehead and nothing more.

She nodded, worried her voice would crack under the sheer weight of her nerves. Bile clawed at her throat as she stood there as understanding dawned; she would not be going home anytime soon. She would be forced to be around not just the court and their idolization of her but she would be surrounded by Edamish lords who thought her a murderer. She would be wearing this armor, these blades, this… mask for Gods knew how long, constantly being reminded of Fontina, of the death and destruction she caused. And most of all, of Rhyan and how he died in her arms, a mark of her failure. Looking from the king to Owain, she saw his eyes narrow. The slight furrowed brow and downturn of his lips told her he was looking forward to this pairing as little as she was.

Before the king dismissed them all, he informed them that to celebrate the renewed relationship with Edam, there would be a ball during the next turn of the moon. Between now and the ball, the king expected Orla to act as guard and escort for Lord Owain and his personal advisors, starting with a tour of the palace and the grounds. The king expected Orla to show him around Imsil before venturing at some point to the port where Owain and his fellow lords would meet with merchants about trade. Orla gritted her teeth at the orders. She wanted nothing more than to rip off her armor and march back to the stables, get on her horse, and ride as far away from this city as possible. Not live in it for Gods knew how long and pretend to be the thing everyone in this kingdom so desperately wished she was.