Page 33 of Boundless
Conspirers Be Conspirin'
DAEGA
THEY MADEit three weeks at the austere elvish castle without incident, things around the palace tense and uncomfortable but mercifully quiet. Daega was missing her family terribly, practically vibrating with excitement for the month to end and for her and Len to be free to head to the camps. She hated that part of the terms of the treaty were that they would split their time between the horde camp and the elvish castle in Llyvelli, but they weren't trapped there forever, at least.
It hadn’t been all bad, though. Maleom was proving to be quite the ally, playing to the prejudices of his colleagues to further their aims. He’d managed to convince them to pass Len’s resolution for the cultural exchange program, as well as stave off several tax bills that would have bled her people dry, over time.
It was early, already hot and muggy despite the sun having barely risen, and Sevren was there mindlessly tidying their room as an excuse to pester Daega with questions about Tesse—a habit he’d committed to with increasing fervor the closer it got to when they’d make their journey back to the Istarii Drakan horde.
"What's her favorite kind of flower?"
Daega groaned, rolling over onto her stomach and slapping as much of Len's ass as she could reach. If she had to go through this again, then by the gods, she wasn't doing it alone.
"Sev, my dear friend, I am going to tear each of your limbs off and use them to beat you to death. How many times must I tell you to justwrite herif you've such a burning desire to get to know her?" she snapped, Len chuckling and patting her back between her topmost wings.
Sevren, undeterred, grabbed a clean cup and helped himself to a glass of water from the pitcher that had been set out last night. "Salerah's fires, it's hot today," he groaned. "Anyway, do you know, Dae? I'd like to gather them and present a bouquet as a gift when we get there."
Daega growled, flopping back onto her back. "Fucking hell, Sev,just write to her!What's the problem? She likes you, you like her…what is this madness overflowers?"
Sevren's expression was unexpectedly pained, his eyes darting to Len before he swallowed, drinking more water.
"I—I have a secret," he blurted, his freckled face paling and looking oddly clammy. "I don't know if she'd like me...after finding out."
Her brow wrinkled. "How would knowing Tesse's favorite flower help anything, then?"
Sevren shook his head, sitting heavily in one of the armchairs. Daega sat up, then slid off the bed and sat across from Sevren in another of the chairs. "What's going on, Sev?"
"It's..." he gulped, looking uncharacteristically nervous and uncertain. "I'm—I'm a man."
"Aye..." Was she missing something, or was this whole thing really not making any sense?
"But I wasn't—" he leaned closer, lowering his voice dramatically. "I wasn't born one."
She nodded, still confused what this had to do with flowers. "Aye, you're a changer. So what do the flowers help?" She leaned forward, grabbing his upper arms and squeezing. "What do the cuntingflowersdo, Sev?"
"I told you," Len trilled, sliding from the bed himself and shuffling over. He clambered onto the back of the chair behind her, leaning forward to drape himself around her shoulders. She turned her head to kiss him when he leaned forward, then turned her attention back to Sev.
Sev was looking rather clammy and pale, but his face had grown less tense at least. "The flowers are to earn her favor. To—I don't know, to convince her to overlook my...differences.”
Daega was still confused. Len chuckled softly in her ear, kissing her cheek and propping his chin on her shoulder. "Elves consider being changer to b-be bad," he explained, his arms tightening around her. "It's kind of... sacrilegious. The c-creator made us the way w-we were intended, so to t-try and change his plan is heresy, et cetera."
She scoffed. "But you don'tbelievethat, surely? I hear you use the old gods’ names all the time andtheyembrace changers, who walk the path of discovery."
"No, I-I don’t. In my m-mind if a person is a ch-changer, then that just means the creatorm-madethem a changer, I'd think."
Sevren nodded, still looking ill. "King Haedelon believes in the one god, as did the king before him, so most of the nobility has followed suit. But not Len. He learned about the old gods from me and Mum and hasn't looked back. Eh, Lenny?"
"Stuff it, Sev," Len grumbled. "You know I h-hate that nickname."
Sevren laughed, downing the rest of his water and going to put the empty glass on a side table. Only—he missed, leaving it to tumble off the edge and shatter on the floor. Daega shot upright, surprising both the men. But Sevren's color was only getting worse, and when he looked up at her his gray eyes were hazy and distant. "Dae?" he slurred, his sweaty brow furrowing.
"Sev?" Len asked quietly, inching down the chair to clamber off of it. "Are you?..."
"Len, dearest, go get a healer. I think he's ill. I'd go, but I don't know where they are."
He nodded, clearly shaken, but threw on a robe and slippers and rushed out into the hall. Distantly, she registered his asking a guard to fetch someone, but Daega was busy trying to make sense of the situation. She crouched to pick up the shards of glass, a faint sweet odor clinging to the air and making her tense. She sniffed at Sev, now slouched back against the chair, and while shecoulddetect it, it was much fainter on him. She sniffed the shard she held more closely and picked up a stronger waft of that sickly-sweet scent.
Dread turned her belly to lead. She hurriedly finished cleaning up and bent over Sevren, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her. "Sev, my dear friend, tell me now: did the water taste funny? Different at all?"
