Chapter 42
The Wilting Silence
“Usurper Xavian Steele and his inkweed sister are murderers! It is said that he unleashed his vile Blackhearted twin upon the Flora Court nobility! She has spilled blood upon the sacred stone of the House of Sterling. She is darkness itself, wicked and without remorse!"
— Kolson Strange, Minister of Spirit
Knock, knock, knock.
Groggy and mentally exhausted, my eyes fluttered open. It was dark, the sky just barely purpling before dawn. Rubbing my face, I forced myself to sit up in bed.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Yes?” I called out, tense.
“Princess Elorengail, you have a guest. He’s taking coffee in the parlor now,” Maya, one of the housekeepers, said through the door.
I relaxed back onto my pillow. It was likely Riven, as he’d promised after the meeting that he would find and deliver my message to Beck and Amzee. The rest of the council didn’t want to chance another Prince Payn situation with me venturing out into the city.
The decision had been fine with me. The time it would have taken to find them could be used to catch up on reading, since Lady Jocelynn agreed to resume our tea lessons until my departure in a week.
It was impressive, but not surprising, how fast Riven must’ve found Beck and Amzee. I appreciated his efforts, but would’ve appreciated it more if he’d waited until a reasonable hour to tell me.
In my lilac nightgown, I practically dragged myself through the dim hallway and down the stairs.
Sat in a dark armchair across the room was Lord Ansel. He placed his cup down and locked his angular eyes on me.
“Oh, absolutely not,” I said, taking a step back. Having coffee with Lord Ansel at this hour, or in general, was comical.
“We need to talk.”
I scoffed. “No, we don’t. You had plenty of time to talk to me in the Waywards.
You could’ve told me who you were. Or you could’ve told me who I am, but instead, you played pretend.
You forced me to compete for my life at Orb Hazy, then made me feel grateful for your little gifts.
I will do my duty and marry you, but I have no interest in speaking with you, especially before sunrise. ”
Lord Ansel let the wilting silence linger between us for only a moment.
“I didn’t realize you sleep in now, Blackheart.”
I stilled.
The terrible wintry nights of the Waywards and my dark lonely mornings flooded back to me. I never slept later than dawn while within the obsidian walls.
He didn’t attempt to stop me when I turned away and returned upstairs.
I grabbed Singer off of the nightstand, laced on a pair of boots, and stormed back out, still wearing my nightgown.
It was strange to not have the orb clipped at my waist, but worse to know he’d been using it to spy on me all along.
The heavy front door to the house slammed shut behind me. I wanted Ansel to know I was leaving.
Slivers of burnt orange peeked over the horizon. A Blademan stood in front of a grey and silver horse-drawn carriage at the end of the yard, lantern in hand.
“Princess?” he called out.
I politely grinned, gesturing to the carriage with Singer. “Lord Ansel requested I take his carriage to the House of Sterling, as he’ll be inside taking coffee with the king for some time.”
“Lord Ansel is leaving himself without transport?”
“Yes. Is that not something you’d do for your betrothed?”
He shifted awkwardly, but opened the door for me. “I suppose.”
The ride to the House of Sterling was swift, and I relished the whole way that Ansel would have to walk.
Once at the stone fortress, I didn’t bother going to the terrace. Lady Jocelynn wouldn’t be there for hours. Instead, I threaded through the halls and out the side door, sneaking off to the barracks down the street.
Several Blademen were already up for the day, walking around outside their quarters, carrying weapons and lugging out trash. I approached a larger blond man with bags under his eyes.
“Where’s Sir Riven?”
He eyed me cautiously, then nodded his head back. “Over by the stables.”
Riven stood next to Kostini in the stall, brushing his coat. His eyes softened at the sight of me, concern peeking through.
“You’re up early.”
I crossed my arms. “Lord Ansel was in my living room.”
“Ah.”
I approached Kostini, petting his mane. “Can we go somewhere? Just for a few hours? I don’t want to worry about war and expectations, just for a little while.”
“If that’s what you want,” Riven said softly.
“I need to be back by lunch,” I added, handing off Singer briefly as I mounted. Missing midday tea with Lady Jocelynn might warrant a grudge she’d never let go of.
Riven held back a smile before hopping up behind me. His tan hands reached for the reins in my lap, his mouth brushing my ear. “Hold on.”
Kostini bolted.
Through the capital’s streets, the brotherhood’s presence was much more noticeable than before Prince Payn’s infiltration.
I kept my head low, not wanting to catch any attention, especially not that of someone who might report back to Lord Ansel’s father.
Whether I liked Lord Ansel or not, the betrothal was important.
After expressing my concerns to Riven, he cut right, ensuring we’d take a more discreet route. I didn’t care where we were going. Anywhere I wouldn’t be reminded of my responsibilities to wed and breed would be fine by me.
Riding along the outskirts of the waking city, we veered down a rocky path, where thick, grassy patches led to the sea.
We were so far from the port, I had to squint to make out the ships in Bastard’s Bay.
The coast was just ahead. Blue, green, and grey, simmering waves rolled onto the sandy shore in a song of endless repetition.
I squinted. Further down the beach, a boulder rested in the sand, carving its way out into the sea. It blocked the view of the shores beyond, as if protecting the land itself.
Kostini came to a stop where the grass turned into shell-scattered sand. Riven had chosen a perfect location, secluded and serene. The sun had just barely entered the sky, reflecting shades of pink and yellow on the water.
There was nothing even close to this beautiful in the Waywards.
A bitter ache dwelled in my chest thinking of the years wasted while beauty like this waited on the outside. There were still people stuck inside those walls.
It wouldn’t be that way forever. I was certain of it. We’d start with the Southern Waywards, and eventually, we’d get everyone out. I had to believe in us, because the moment I started doubting, destiny might follow suit.
Riven planted his feet on the ground first, then offered me a hand. I gladly took it, letting him guide me down. I unlaced my boots, leaving them on the wispy grass before embracing the cool sand between my toes. It was freeing—standing on the beach in a flowing nightgown.
Riven did not appear free at all. He’d dressed himself for a full day of training.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re keeping your boots on,” I complained.
He sighed. “Fuck it.”
He removed them along with his black uniform and dropped his weapons to the ground.
I turned away in an attempt to be polite, hiding my flushed cheeks.
His muscular build was on full display, save for his grey shorts. I wanted so badly to know what the tattoo said on the bottom of his abdomen, but couldn’t bring myself to look long enough to find out.
Instead, I walked towards the water, Riven following. The thin material of my dress blew against my legs in the wind, but I didn’t care.
I watched curiously as cold water ran over my feet for all but a moment before the wave returned to the ocean.
Riven approached, and we stood quietly while another calm wave crashed and simmered out, water running past our ankles.
His hand brushed against mine. An accident, but powerful enough to ignite a flame from the ashes inside of me. I didn’t pull away, and despite his brief hesitation, he laced our fingers together.
“There’s a cove in there,” he said, pointing to the boulder in the distance.
Truthfully, I would go anywhere with him. If he wanted to show me the inside of a huge rock, I’d do it.
I nodded, and he guided us down the beach, walking hand in hand.
As we approached the boulder, Riven assessed it silently, as if he might change his mind.
I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
He scanned our surroundings, considering his options. “It requires a short swim to get inside the cove. I don’t want you having to get your dress wet.”
“It will dry. I’ll be fine.”
Releasing his hand, I walked straight into the ocean.
He didn’t argue, but hurried ahead protectively, guiding us around the rock.
Following its edge, the water came up to my chest. The ocean was cold, but not unbearable.
I’d had plenty of baths that were worse.
It wasn’t until we were on the far side where the boulder’s cave opened up that I needed to truly swim.
Following Riven’s lead, we entered, passing around a corner, where it became an enclosed cove. Light poured in from above, illuminating the space. Stone platforms surrounded the edges of the water, flat rocks wide enough to walk on.
Riven climbed out first, then helped me.
My nightgown clung to me, but it was worth it. It felt as if I’d entered a secret room, where mermaids would gossip and brush each other's hair. The water was clearer—more blue, and without waves, completely calm.
“Look,” Riven said, pointing up.
Along the round opening in the ceiling, thousands of violet and blue crystals were embedded in the stone. I sighed in awe.
“How did you find this place?”
Riven sat with his back against the rock wall, while I kept on the edge, my feet dangling in the water.
He shuffled uncomfortably. “My mother showed it to me when I was a child. It was my reward for learning to swim.”
He’d never talked about his family before. I’d figured he had one somewhere, just never thought to ask about them. “Your mom sounds nice.”
His head hung low. “She was.”
My lips pressed together.
“What happened to her?”
“Um,” he said, voice wavering, “I don’t want you to think of me differently.”
“I won’t.”
Our eyes met. He wanted to confide in me, but something was stopping him. I’d never given up on him before, and I wouldn’t now.
“I promise, Riven.”
He was silent for a while, rubbing a hand over his mouth, before he exhaled in surrender.
“She got sick, but not a plague or cold. It was her mind,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “She started saying the most unusual things, sometimes screaming for no apparent reason. She needed to be watched, because she couldn’t be trusted by herself anymore. My father, he—”
His jaw flexed, eyes darkening.
I sat patiently. There was no need to push him. I was there to listen, nothing more.
He rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat. “My father waited until I was out processing goat meat, because he knew I’d be busy for hours. My mother loved goat stew, and I wanted to do what I could for her. When I came home, she… she wasn’t there. I found my father burying her out back.”
My face fell. “Did she hurt herself?”
Riven’s knuckles went white, the words erupting from him. “No. My father slit her throat. Said he couldn’t handle being married to a mad woman.”
What a disgusting piece of shit. I’d heard similar stories in the Waywards, of families turning on each other.
If one got the winter sickness, they’d go ahead and kill them, hoping to contain it and not waste food on someone bound to die.
Riven though, he grew up here. It just went to show there were terrible people all over the world.
“I hope you never spoke to him again.”
Riven frowned. “I killed him, Elora.”
My blood turned cold, not because I judged Riven, but because of the weight his decision clearly had on him.
“One might say that would have been the noble thing to do, for your mother.”
He looked so defeated and ashamed—his dimple entirely absent and brows knitting together. “There was nothing noble about it. I murdered him with my bare hands, like an animal.”
While unfortunate, it was nothing I hadn’t already been hardened to. Far worse happened in the Waywards all the time. Hell, I’d killed a man with my crotch, and would do it again in a heartbeat.
Pulling myself up, I scooted closer to him, snuggling my head onto his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his bicep.
“He deserved it,” I said, smiling. I was proud of Riven for sending him to an early grave.
Riven tilted my chin up with a finger. When he met my eyes, all I felt was warmth and security.
“I stand by you, no matter what,” I assured him.
He brought his lips to mine. Chills erupted the moment we made contact, and he held the back of my neck, kissing me deeper.
I pulled him closer, throwing our weight off balance. He pushed against me, lowering my back to the ground. His mouth trailed to my neck as he hovered above me, in between my legs—his hand traveled up my thigh. With my head against the flat stone, I gazed upward.
There was only him, the crystal cove, and soft light.
“I can take you back,” he murmured in my ear.
“Not yet,” I said quietly.
A warm kiss met my collarbone as his hand braced on my rib cage. “Tell me what you want.”
Wasn’t it obvious?
“Everything.”
I’d be a married woman soon enough, but at this moment, I was just a girl falling for Riven without a way to stop it.
I’d tried to stop it. For Luna’s sake, I’d avoided looking his way for years, even when tempted.
Even lately, I’d tried convincing myself I was better off sticking to duty and nothing more.
But it was impossible to push him away. There was nothing I could tell myself to stop the torrent of feelings.
My body begged for him somehow even louder than my heart did, my pulse racing as his hand navigated through the flowing slits of my dress, finding my center.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice unsteady.
As soon as I nodded, he slipped a finger inside me.
“I want to hear you,” he growled. A soft moan escaped my lips, and he grinned.
As he teased me, I tugged at his shorts, making my wants, my needs, known. More.
He’d wanted to be honorable, but we were far past that.
As he slowly removed his shorts, I finally had a full view of not only the thick muscles trailing down his abdomen, but also his tattoo. There, displayed above his pelvis, read:
Show Time.
He leaned down, kissing me softly before entering me.
I’d had sex before, plenty of times, but I’d never felt my entire body ignite the way it did when Riven moved inside of me, maintaining eye contact, lips parted and pupils dilating.
Marriage be damned, there would be no separating Riven from me.
I’d fight for it, hide it, protect it in any way I could. The gossips could judge it. Ansel could hate it. I didn’t care.
From the moment Riven’s body connected with mine, I was done for, and he was my unraveling.