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My eyes narrowed. “Then why do you?”

“Because I don’t think my duty is only to the residents of theFaelinth. As long as there are Halflings in chains, then I will fight the Crown. Kill them all if needed.” Riven’s voice was harsh and venomous. I loosened my blade a fraction.

Riven dropped the sword in his hand, its hilt reverberated off the floor.

“Why not justrescueHalflings?” I asked. “Many will die if the king goes to war.”

“Who do think brought all the Halflings here? Or the others in the rest of theFaelinth? I have been saving families one by one for decades. It’s not enough.”

He was right. There were always more mouths to feed, more people to protect. And those were only the Halflings with enough Mortal blood to allow them to hide. Those easily identified spent their lives in service to the Crown. Laying their lives down at the king’s leisure.

Just like the Shades.

The Arsenal.

Just like me.

“There’s no way you have an army large enough to launch an assault against Elverath,” I whispered, tilting my head down at him.

“Not yet,” Riven choked against the steel.

I pressed my blade, angling it slightly, so I did not cut him but pushed against his trachea. “You’re not in a position to hide anything,” I reminded him.

“I will not spill my secrets to the king’s Blade. My death isn’t worth it,” he said.

“So dramatic.” I rolled my eyes. “The way I see it, you only have two options. Stay silent and let me kill you. Then, there’s no one to protect your dear Nikolai or anyone else I discover has helped you.” I felt his shoulders tense. I’d hit a nerve.

“Oryou can tell me everything and Imightkill you,” I finished.

Riven choked in disbelief. “Might?”

“You doubt me?” I said in a mocking tone of concern. I liked toying with him while he was on his knees, my blade against his throat. It almost made up for his rudeness at Sil’abar.

“I doubt the king’s Blade has any use for me alive.” He paused. “I reckon the king may kill you if you return to Elverath without my head.”

“Probably,” I admitted.

“You don’t seem concerned?” Riven’s voice was ragged and dark. He was growing tired of my ruse.

Good.

I shrugged. “Are you planning to kill the king?”

Riven made a show of clenching his jaw. Stubborn violet eyes stared up at me.

“I’m not asking for details,” I said. “I just want to know, is that the goal of all of this—ending the king?”

Riven didn’t respond. I held his gaze, his heavy breaths mixed with my staggering heartbeat. I’d hoped for this more than I’d let myself admit.

“No,” Riven finally spoke. “We’re not just going to end the king. We’re going to end the Crown.”

I let go of his hair and pulled my dagger from its holster. I stepped in front of him, my sword still pressed against his throat before bringing the dagger to his chest.

“Then to answer your question,” I said slowly, “I’m not concerned with the king killing me.”

I dropped the sword and let it clatter to the floor. I pulled at Riven’s arm until he stood, the threat of my dagger still pressed against his chest.

“Why not?” Riven asked, looking down at the red steel pricking his leathers