Page 103 of Blackheart

A few short hours later, Riven returned as promised. Silence lingered between us as he ushered me out of the manor. Other than my room, the stone hall, and the stairs leading right down to the entrance, I hadn’t managed to see much.

We rode on horseback to the House of Sterling. Riven led us inside and up a wide, stone staircase. At the end of the hall was the council room, recognizable from my dreams. The sizable rock of a round table sat in the center of muted stone floors. A stunning view of the ocean and the city of Eiden was visible from every angle of the room.

We were the first to arrive. A cool sea breeze brushed the loose silver fabric of my gown across my thighs as I stood unsure of where to sit. I knew Xavian sat at the far side, facing the entrance, and Draven and Avan always sat to either side of him.

The top half of my hair was braided into a bun, courtesy of Lady Jocelynn. Two silver pins in the shape of wings were placed into the bun to represent the Castivian crest.

Lady Jocelynn kept everything else plain. No makeup. No jewelry beyond the necklace from Sitara. The simple gown had soft, sheer sleeves that ran down my arm, and a dainty zipper in the back.

Representing the Dark Natured or not, I was proud like never before.

I feltpretty.

Not in the way men back in the Waywards stared on summer nights if I had a bit of cleavage showing, but pretty in the way that I could bear to look at myself in the mirror.

I shouldn’t need a dress to feel beautiful, but was it so bad if it made me feel that way?

Riven pulled out two chairs, both on the left side of the table. “The chairs don’t bite.” He gestured for me to sit next to him.

Cute of him to think I'd be sitting next to him after leaving me with Lady Jocelynn. Instead, I sat on the opposite side, making my disdain clear. He poorly attempted to match it, leaning back in his chair and lifting his brow. Taunting me.

Our silent war was interrupted by Xavian and the rest of his council pouring in, only pausing their conversation to acknowledge my presence with subtle nods before taking their seats. Arthur Pos, the oldest of them, sat next to Riven. Though we had never met, I knew enough from my dreams to not like him.

The redhead, Avan, took the seat between me and Xavian.

Across from Avan, Draven wore an airy, maroon tunic, with his long hair falling to the sides of his shoulders.

Draven was the first to speak, his voice rich and smoky. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Elorengail.”

“Princess Elora,” Xavian corrected him. My twin sat at the end of the table, the view of the stormy grey ocean behind his head of thick, inky curls.

“You’re not king yet,” Draven argued coolly.

My brother must have had some semblance of respect for Draven, as no daggers were drawn at the dispute. “I’ll be enacting the deed by nightfall.”

“The plan was to meet with the rest of the lords before claiming your title,” Arthur Pos reminded.

Riven had told me the meeting wasn’t until next week. Why wait?

Avan glanced between Xavian and Draven while spinning a silver coin on his thumb. Riven focused on me, but I tried my best to not pay him any mind.

“That was before my brother died,” Xavian tossed a scroll on the table. “And before the cunt queen sent this.”

The rest of the table jumped up, scrambling to grab it first. Riven was the champion, and quietly read it before tossing it to Avan, whose words fumbled out of his mouth the second he touched the parchment.

Xavian Steele,

Per Queen Delaina Lyonaire, heiress to Jadehill, Ruler of Drakington and the Castivian Territory, it is hereby declared that all creatures born with Dark Natured blood be sent by ship to Drakington, where they will be a pivotal part of the war efforts.

The Queen expects a swift response and diligence in clearing the lands of such kinds. If you prove yourself to be inadequate, a new Keeper of Castivian will be assigned.

Drakington also requests this quarter's tax payments as early as possible, as war does not pay for itself, and the Sapphires are a constant threat at our borders.

My stomach curled. Clarke wasn’t even cold in the ground, yet she’d wasted no time. I should have found her while I was within the walls of Lyonsreach and slit her throat myself.

Avan read on about further expectations and threats before finishing, setting the missive down and staring back at the rest of the council.

Arthur Pos adjusted his spectacles. “I agree with you,Your Grace.The sooner you declare these lands independent, the better.”