“I heard there was a violent battle in the gardens the night I last saw you. The ni’meres.” I watched him slide another blade from his other hip. “A few of the guards were killed.”
“Their loss was unfortunate. A damn shame that shouldn’t have happened,” he said, and he sounded genuine. “But I was not harmed.” A pause. “And I would not call that a battle, na’laa.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“An inconvenience.”
I blinked, thinking that something which resulted in scattered body pieces could not be considered just an inconvenience. But what I thought didn’t matter. I focused on him, opening my senses. I pictured that string connecting us as I asked, “Why . . . why did they come? Was it because of the other two Hyhborn?”
Nothing.
Nothing but the hum of the white wall.
He eyed me for a moment. “What do you know about the ni’meres, na’laa?”
His nickname severed the connection. The only knowledge that I gained was that he seemed unaware of what I’d been trying to do. “Not much. To be honest, I didn’t know there were any in Primvera. I only knew that they tend to leave people alone as long as we don’t go near where they are nesting.”
“That’s true, but they can also serve as guards of Hyhborn, even become loyal to some, which appears to have been the case for either Nathaniel or Muriel.”
“Did the ni’meres travel with them or . . .”
“Both were from Primvera,” he answered, brows knitting.
My stomach tumbled a bit. Lord Thorne had killed two Hyhborn and likely many ni’meres from the Court that could be seen from some parts of the property. “I imagine Prince Rainer will be displeased.”
“Actually, I imagine he’ll be quite the opposite.” He continued before I could ask why that would be. “So, your baron didn’t advise you of whose chamber you’d be entering?”
His change of subject not only failed to pass me by, but also frustrated me as my senses were currently proving to be of no help. “No.” I was momentarily distracted as he pulled free another dagger that had been strapped along his waist. My lips parted as he reached back, sliding a . . . a silver-hilted steel sword, the kind with the slight curve to the blade and often carried by the lawmen who patrolled the Bone Road that traveled all five territories.
“You’re lucky, you know.” Lord Thorne bent, his long fingers reaching for straps I hadn’t seen along the shafts of his boots. He unhooked another dagger, tossing it onto the table. It landed with a thump, rattling the other weapons.
“I . . . I am?”
“Yes.” He moved to the other boot, and yet another sheathed dagger came free. “You’re lucky that my men weren’t here when you entered. You would’ve never reached this space.”
I glanced into the antechamber.
“They’re not here. They arrived roughly around the time I had you pinned to the wall,” he said, and my gaze darted back to him. They had? “They’re gone now. We’re alone.”
“Oh.” That was all I could say as I watched him shove up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing yet another sheath along the top of his forearm. “How many weapons do you have on you?”
“Just enough,” he remarked, placing that smaller, sheathed blade on the table.
“But why? You’re a lord. You can— ” I stopped myself from pointing out what he obviously already knew. “Why would you need so many weapons?”
He laughed softly.
“What?” I asked. “What’s funny?”
“A better question to ask was how I was foolish enough to not realize I’d been drugged and impaled to a table in a dirty barn.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
A wry grin appeared as he moved to the bed, sitting on its edge. “No being is so powerful that they cannot become weak. Not even a lord, a prince, or a king.”
“Okay.” I thought over what he said. “Could you not just do the whole fire thing with your hand again?” I asked, and immediately recognized that was a question I never thought I’d ever ask.
“The whole fire thing with my hand?” He chuckled, watching me as he reached for his boot. He’d watched me this entire time. Not once had his gaze strayed from me as he unloaded his small arsenal. “I could summon the element of fire, but that takes divus.”
“Divus?” My nose wrinkled. “That is . . . Enochian? What does it mean?”