The Kept

The Disruption

Trygve was gone when Nerys woke late the next afternoon. A honey-cake was waiting on the table next to a stone bowl full of nearly extinguished embers and a mug capped by an overturned saucer. The note beside it read:

Mari says it works for hangovers, too.

Nerys removed the saucer, releasing the familiar earthy aroma, and took the warm mug in both hands. She smiled as she looked around her. Even gone, Trygve's presence filled the space; his neatly folded blankets setting atop a chest in the corner of the room, his cloak hanging on a peg by the door, the books he kept stacked beside the couch where he slept every night— every night but the last.

This was where she wanted to be. And he was who she wanted to be with. If her guard could never hold her or kiss her again, she would make him more than that; kings and kingdoms, and her fratricidal half-brother be damned. She was willing to accept whatever the risk to be Trygve's wife. Her parents had done it, left everything behind and lived a happy, quiet life together for fourteen years.

Until she destroyed it.

Nerys paced the house, the tea growing tepid as she warred with herself.

She had been the reason her parents had gone into hiding in the first place. They had built that life around her, and it had all been undone because of her. Even if she and Trygve managed to elude the pursuit of Ithaam, Cerebes, and Tiarmn for years, it might all come crashing down one day. What if they had children by then? What if they were caught before their life together could even begin? Would it still be worth it?

There was only one way to find out. 

Aside from a hollow, rinsed out feeling, Nerys hadn't noticed any ill-effects of her previous night's overindulgence— until she stepped into the late-afternoon light determined to find Trygve. She shrank back into the safety of her home and cursed. Her fingers brushed something soft. Trygve's cloak. It was much too big, but the massive hood would provide some relief from the brightness of the day, so she threw it on and hurried to the council house.

The area was oddly vacant when she arrived. An official-looking letter hung on the door informing visitors that the prince was indisposed and would hear requests the next day. As she tried to figure out where else she may find Trygve, she heard voices on the other side of the door.  Although muffled, she could tell one of the voices was his.

She began to open the door and the words became clear, halting her before it was more than slightly ajar.

"...one responsibility," Vayk hissed. "To make sure she becomes Queen."

"And she will, in due time," Trygve responded. "But she needs to go into this marriage of her own accord for it to hold any legitimacy in Cerebes. Forcing her to wed Dadien before she is ready will risk everything we have worked—" 
"No. You and your feelings for the princess are what put everything at risk. Have you forgotten who you ans— Who's there?"

Nerys tensed. Vayk must have seen that the door was open. The turn of their conversation made her think it better not to answer. She fled up the pathway, being careful to keep the hood close around her face as she ducked between houses toward the main village. A glance back reassured her that she hadn't been pursued. She slowed, but did not relax until she was back in her own cottage.

She lay down on the couch and pulled the cloak tighter around her, trying to make sense of what she had heard through the agonizing headache that had that her exertion had exacerbated. Clearly, from Vayk's perspective, her dinner with Dadien had gone well and he saw no reason for them to postpone the wedding any longer. And, true to his nature- his love- Trygve was trying to protect her.